Chapter Forty Three.In which Smallbones changes from a King’s Man into a Smuggler, and also changes his Sex.If we adhered to the usual plans of historical novel writers, we should, in this instance, leave Smallbones to what must appear to have been his inevitable fate, and then bring him on the stage again with acoup de théâtre, when least expected by the reader. But that is not our intention; we consider that the interest of this our narration of by-gone events is quite sufficient, without condescending to what is called clap-trap; and there are so many people in our narrative continually labouring under deception of one kind or another, that we need not add to it by attempting to mystify our readers; who, on the contrary, we shall take with us familiarly by the hand, and, like a faithful historian, lead them through the events in the order in which they occurred, and point out to them how they all lead to one common end. With this intention in view, we shall now follow the fortunes of Smallbones, whom we left floundering in about seven fathoms water.The weather was warm, even sultry, as we said before; but notwithstanding which, and notwithstanding he was a very tolerable swimmer, considering that he was so thin, Smallbones did not like it. To be awoke out of a profound sleep, and all of a sudden to find yourself floundering out of your depth about half a mile from the nearest land, is anything but agreeable; the transition is too rapid. Smallbones descended a few feet before he could divest himself of the folds of the Flustring coat which he had wrapped himself up in. It belonged to Coble; he had purchased it at a sale-shop on the Point for seventeen shillings and sixpence, and, moreover, it was as good as new. In consequence of this delay below watermark Smallbones had very little breath left in his body when he rose to the surface, and he could not inflate his lungs so as to call loud, until the cutter had walked away from him at least one hundred yards, for she was slipping fast through the water, and another minute plainly proved to Smallbones that he was left to his own resources.At first, the lad had imagined that it was an accident, and that the rope had given way with his weight; but when he found that no attention was paid to his cries, he then was convinced that it was the work of Mr Vanslyperken.“Bygum, he’s a-done for me at last. Well, I don’t care, I can die but once, that’s sartin sure; and he’ll go to the devil, that’s sartin sure.”And Smallbones, with this comfortable assurance, continued to strike out for the land, which, indeed, he had but little prospect of ever making.“A shame for to come for to go to murder a poor lad three or four times over,” sputtered Smallbones, after a time, feeling his strength fail him. He then turned on his back, to ease his arms.“I can’t do it no how, I sees that,” said Smallbones, “so I may just as well go down like a dipsey lead.”But as he muttered this, and was making up his mind to discontinue further exertions—not a very easy thing to do, when you are about to go into another world—still floating on his back, with his eyes fixed on the starry heavens, thinking, as Smallbones afterwards narrated himself, that there wa’n’t much to live for in this here world, and considering what there could be in that ’ere, his head struck against something hard. Smallbones immediately turned round in the water to see what it was, and found that it was one of the large corks which supported a heavy net laid out across the tide for the taking of shoal-fish. The cork was barely sufficient to support his weight, but gave him a certain relief, and time to look about him, as the saying is. The lad ran under the net and cork with his hands until he arrived at the nearest shoal, for it was three or four hundred yards long. When he arrived there, he contrived to bring some of the corks together, until he had quite sufficient for his support, and then Smallbones voted himself pretty comfortable after all, for the water was very warm, and now quite smooth.Smallbones, as the reader may have observed during the narration, was a lad of most indisputable courage and of good principles. Had it been his fortune to have been born among the higher classes, and to have had all the advantages of education, he might have turned out a hero; as it was, he did his duty well in that state of life to which he had been called, and as he said in his speech to the men on the forecastle, he feared God, honoured the king, and was the natural enemy to the devil.The Chevalier Bayard was nothing more, only he had a wider field for his exertions and his talents; but the armed and accoutred Bayard did not show more courage and conduct when leading armies to victory, than did the unarmed Smallbones against Vanslyperken and his dog. We consider that,in his way, Smallbones was quite as great a hero as the Chevalier, for no man can do more than his best: indeed, it is unreasonable to expect it.While Smallbones hung on to the corks, he was calculating his chances of being saved.“If so be as how they comes to take up the nets in the morning, why then I think I may hold on; but if so be they waits, why they’ll then find me dead as a fish,” said Smallbones, who seldom ventured above a monosyllable, and whose language if not considered as pure English, was certainly amazingly Saxon; and then Smallbones began to reflect, whether it was not necessary that he should forgive Mr Vanslyperken before he died, and his pros and cons ended with his thinking he could, for it was his duty; however he would not be in a hurry about it, he thought that was the last thing that he need do; but as for the dog, he wa’n’t obliged to forgive him, that was certain—as certain as that his tail was off; and Smallbones, up to his chin in the water, grinned so at the remembrance, that he took in more salt water than was pleasant.He spit it out again, and then looked up to the stars, which were twinkling above him.I wonder what o’clock it is, thought Smallbones, when he thought he heard a distant sound. Smallbones pricked up his care and listened;—yes, it was in regular cadence, and became louder and louder. It was a boat pulling.“Well, I am sure,” thought Smallbones, “they’ll think they have caught a queer fish anyhow;” and he waited very patiently for the fisherman to come up. At last he perceived the boat, which was very long, and pulled many oars. “They be the smugglers,” thought Smallbones.“I wonder whether they’ll pick up a poor lad. Boat ahoy!”The boat continued to pass towards the coast, impelled at the speed of seven or eight miles an hour, and was now nearly abreast of Smallbones, and not fifty yards from him.“I say, boat ahoy!” screamed Smallbones, to the extent of his voice.He was heard this time, and there was a pause in the pulling, the boat still driving through the water with the impulse which had been given her, as if she required no propelling power.“I say, you ain’t a going for to come for to leave a poor lad here to be drowned, are you?”“That’s Smallbones, I’ll swear,” cried Jemmy Ducks, who was steering the boat, and who immediately shifted the helm.But Sir Robert Barclay paused; there was too much at stake to run any risk, even to save the life of a fellow-creature.“You takes time for to think on it, anyhow,” cried Smallbones. “You are going for to leave a fellow-Christian stuck like a herring in a fishing-net, are you? You would not like it yourself, anyhow.”“It is Smallbones, sir,” repeated Jemmy Ducks, “and I’ll vouch for him as a lad that’s good and true.”Sir Robert no longer hesitated: “Give way, my lads, and pick him up.”In a few minutes Smallbones was hauled in over the gunwale, and was seated on the stern-sheets opposite to Sir Robert.“It’s a great deal colder out of the water than in, that’s sartain,” observed Smallbones, shivering.“Give way, my lads, we’ve no time to stay,” cried Sir Robert.“Take this, Smallbones,” said Jemmy.“Why, so it is, Jemmy Ducks!” replied Smallbones, with astonishment—“why, how did you come here?”“Sarcumstances,” replied Jemmy; “how did you come there?”“Sarcumstances too, Jemmy,” replied Smallbones.“Keep silence,” said Sir Robert, and nothing more was said until the lugger dashed into the cave.The cargo was landed, and Smallbones, who was very cold, was not sorry to assist. He carried up his load with the rest, and as usual the women came half-way down to receive it.“Why, who have we here?” said one of the women to whom Smallbones was delivering his load, “why it’s Smallbones.”“Yes,” replied Smallbones, “it is me; but how came you here, Nancy?”“That’s tellings; but how came you, my lad?” replied Nancy.“I came by water, any how.”“Well, you are one of us now, you know there’s no going back.”“I’m sure I don’t want to go back, Nancy; but what is to be done? nothing unchristian-like, I hope.”“We’re all good Christians here, Smallbones; we don’t bow down to idols and pay duty to them as other people do.”“Do you fear God, and honour the king?”“We do; the first as much as the other people, and as for the king, we love him and serve him faithfully.”“Well, then, I suppose that’s all right,” replied Smallbones; “but where do you live?”“Come with me, take your load up, and I will show you, for the sooner you are there the better; the boat will be off again in half an hour if I mistake not.”“Off, where?”“To France, with a message to the king.”“Why, the king’s in Holland! we left him there when we sailed!”“Pooh! nonsense! come along.”When Sir Robert arrived at the cave, he found an old friend anxiously awaiting his arrival; it was Graham, who had been dispatched by the Jacobites to the court of St. Germain, with intelligence of great importance, which was the death of the young Duke of Gloucester, the only surviving son of King William. He had, it was said, died of a malignant fever; but if the reader will call to mind the address of one of the Jesuits on the meeting at Cherbourg, he may have some surmises as to the cause of the duke’s decease. As this event rendered the succession uncertain, the hopes of the Jacobites were raised to the highest pitch; the more so as the country was in a state of anxiety and confusion, and King William was absent at the Hague. Graham had, therefore, been dispatched to the exiled James, with the propositions from his friends in England, and to press the necessity of an invasion of the country. As Nancy had supposed, Sir Robert decided upon immediately crossing over to Cherbourg, the crew were allowed a short time to repose and refresh themselves, and once more returned to their laborious employment; Jemmy Ducks satisfied Sir Robert that Smallbones might be trusted and be useful, and Nancy corroborated his assertions. He was, therefore, allowed to remain in the cave with the women, and Sir Robert and his crew, long before Smallbones’ garments were dry, were again crossing the English Channel.Now it must be observed, that Smallbones was never well off for clothes, and, on this occasion, when he fell overboard, he had nothing on but an old pair of thin linen trousers and a shirt, which, from dint of long washing, from check had turned to a light cerulean blue: what with his struggles at the net and the force used to pull him into the boat, the shirt had more than one-half disappeared—that is to say, one sleeve and the back were wholly gone, and the other sleeve was well prepared to follow its fellow, on the first capful of wind. His trousers also were in almost as bad a state. In hauling him in, when his head was over the gunwale, one of the men had seized him by the seat of his trousers to lift him into the boat, and the consequence was, that the seat of his trousers having been too long sat upon, was also left in his muscular gripe. All these items put together, the reader may infer, that, although Smallbones might appear merely ragged in front, that in his rear he could not be considered as decent, especially as he was the only one of the masculine sex among a body of females. No notice was taken of this by others, nor did Smallbones observe it himself, during the confusion and bustle previous to the departure of the smugglers; but now they were gone, Smallbones perceived his deficiencies, and was very much at a loss what to do, as he was aware that daylight would discover them to others as well as to himself: so he fixed his back up against one of the rocks, and remained idle while the women were busily employed storing away the cargo in the various compartments of the cave.Nancy, who had not forgotten that he was with them, came up to him.“Why do you stay there, Smallbones? you must be hungry and cold; come in with me, and I will find you something to eat.”“I can’t, Mistress Nancy, I want your advice first. Has any of the men left any of their duds in this here cavern?”“Duds! men! No, they keep them all on the other side. We have nothing but petticoats here and shimmeys.”“Then what must I do?” exclaimed Smallbones.“Oh, I see, your shirt is torn off your back. Well, never mind, I’ll lend you a shimmey.”“Yes, Mistress Nancy, but it be more worse than that; I an’t got no behind to my trousers, they pulled it out when they pulled me into the boat. I sticks to this here rock for decency’s sake. What must I do?”Nancy burst into a laugh. “Do? why, if you can’t have men’s clothes, you must put on the women’s, and then you’ll be in the regular uniform of the cave.”“I do suppose that I must, but I can’t say that I like the idea much, anyhow,” replied Smallbones.“Why, you don’t mean to stick to that rock like a limpet all your life, do you? there’s plenty of work for you.”“If so be, I must, I must,” replied Smallbones.“You can’t appear before Mistress Alice in that state,” replied Nancy. “She’s a lady bred and born, and very particular too, and then there’s Miss Lilly, you will turn her as red as a rose if she sees you.”“Well, then, I suppose I must, Mistress Nancy, for I shall catch my death of cold here. I’m all wet and shivery, from being so long in the water, and my back, against the rock, feels just as ice.”“No wonder; I’ll run and fetch you something,” replied Nancy, who was delighted at the idea of dressing up Smallbones as a woman.Nancy soon returned with a chemise, a short flannel pet—and a shawl, which she gave to Smallbones, desiring him to take off his wet clothes, and substitute them. She would return to him as soon as he had put them on, and see that they were put tidy and right.Smallbones retired behind one of the rocks, and soon shifted his clothes; he put everything on the hind part before, and had to alter them when she came. She adjusted the shawl, and then led him into the cave where he found Mistress Alice, and some of the women who were not busy with the cargo.“Here’s the poor lad who was thrown overboard, madam,” said Nancy, retaining her gravity. “All his clothes were torn off his back, and I have been obliged to give him these to put on.”Lady Ramsay could hardly repress a smile. Smallbones’ appearance was that of a tall gaunt creature, pale enough, and smooth enough to be a woman certainly, but cutting a most ridiculous figure. His long thin arms were bare, his neck was like a crane’s, and the petticoats were so short as to reach almost above his knees. Shoes and stockings he had none. His long hair was platted and matted with the salt water, and one side of his head was shaved, and exhibited a monstrous, half-healed scar.Lady Ramsay asked him a few questions, and then desired Nancy to give him some refreshment, and find him something to lie down upon in the division of the cave which was used as a kitchen.But we must now leave Smallbones to entertain the inhabitants of the cave with the history of his adventures, which he did at intervals, during his stay there. He retained his women’s clothes, for Nancy would not let him wear any other, and was a source of great amusement not only to the smugglers’ wives, but also to little Lilly, who would listen to his conversation and remarks, which were almost as naïve and unsophisticated as her own.
If we adhered to the usual plans of historical novel writers, we should, in this instance, leave Smallbones to what must appear to have been his inevitable fate, and then bring him on the stage again with acoup de théâtre, when least expected by the reader. But that is not our intention; we consider that the interest of this our narration of by-gone events is quite sufficient, without condescending to what is called clap-trap; and there are so many people in our narrative continually labouring under deception of one kind or another, that we need not add to it by attempting to mystify our readers; who, on the contrary, we shall take with us familiarly by the hand, and, like a faithful historian, lead them through the events in the order in which they occurred, and point out to them how they all lead to one common end. With this intention in view, we shall now follow the fortunes of Smallbones, whom we left floundering in about seven fathoms water.
The weather was warm, even sultry, as we said before; but notwithstanding which, and notwithstanding he was a very tolerable swimmer, considering that he was so thin, Smallbones did not like it. To be awoke out of a profound sleep, and all of a sudden to find yourself floundering out of your depth about half a mile from the nearest land, is anything but agreeable; the transition is too rapid. Smallbones descended a few feet before he could divest himself of the folds of the Flustring coat which he had wrapped himself up in. It belonged to Coble; he had purchased it at a sale-shop on the Point for seventeen shillings and sixpence, and, moreover, it was as good as new. In consequence of this delay below watermark Smallbones had very little breath left in his body when he rose to the surface, and he could not inflate his lungs so as to call loud, until the cutter had walked away from him at least one hundred yards, for she was slipping fast through the water, and another minute plainly proved to Smallbones that he was left to his own resources.
At first, the lad had imagined that it was an accident, and that the rope had given way with his weight; but when he found that no attention was paid to his cries, he then was convinced that it was the work of Mr Vanslyperken.
“Bygum, he’s a-done for me at last. Well, I don’t care, I can die but once, that’s sartin sure; and he’ll go to the devil, that’s sartin sure.”
And Smallbones, with this comfortable assurance, continued to strike out for the land, which, indeed, he had but little prospect of ever making.
“A shame for to come for to go to murder a poor lad three or four times over,” sputtered Smallbones, after a time, feeling his strength fail him. He then turned on his back, to ease his arms.
“I can’t do it no how, I sees that,” said Smallbones, “so I may just as well go down like a dipsey lead.”
But as he muttered this, and was making up his mind to discontinue further exertions—not a very easy thing to do, when you are about to go into another world—still floating on his back, with his eyes fixed on the starry heavens, thinking, as Smallbones afterwards narrated himself, that there wa’n’t much to live for in this here world, and considering what there could be in that ’ere, his head struck against something hard. Smallbones immediately turned round in the water to see what it was, and found that it was one of the large corks which supported a heavy net laid out across the tide for the taking of shoal-fish. The cork was barely sufficient to support his weight, but gave him a certain relief, and time to look about him, as the saying is. The lad ran under the net and cork with his hands until he arrived at the nearest shoal, for it was three or four hundred yards long. When he arrived there, he contrived to bring some of the corks together, until he had quite sufficient for his support, and then Smallbones voted himself pretty comfortable after all, for the water was very warm, and now quite smooth.
Smallbones, as the reader may have observed during the narration, was a lad of most indisputable courage and of good principles. Had it been his fortune to have been born among the higher classes, and to have had all the advantages of education, he might have turned out a hero; as it was, he did his duty well in that state of life to which he had been called, and as he said in his speech to the men on the forecastle, he feared God, honoured the king, and was the natural enemy to the devil.
The Chevalier Bayard was nothing more, only he had a wider field for his exertions and his talents; but the armed and accoutred Bayard did not show more courage and conduct when leading armies to victory, than did the unarmed Smallbones against Vanslyperken and his dog. We consider that,in his way, Smallbones was quite as great a hero as the Chevalier, for no man can do more than his best: indeed, it is unreasonable to expect it.
While Smallbones hung on to the corks, he was calculating his chances of being saved.
“If so be as how they comes to take up the nets in the morning, why then I think I may hold on; but if so be they waits, why they’ll then find me dead as a fish,” said Smallbones, who seldom ventured above a monosyllable, and whose language if not considered as pure English, was certainly amazingly Saxon; and then Smallbones began to reflect, whether it was not necessary that he should forgive Mr Vanslyperken before he died, and his pros and cons ended with his thinking he could, for it was his duty; however he would not be in a hurry about it, he thought that was the last thing that he need do; but as for the dog, he wa’n’t obliged to forgive him, that was certain—as certain as that his tail was off; and Smallbones, up to his chin in the water, grinned so at the remembrance, that he took in more salt water than was pleasant.
He spit it out again, and then looked up to the stars, which were twinkling above him.
I wonder what o’clock it is, thought Smallbones, when he thought he heard a distant sound. Smallbones pricked up his care and listened;—yes, it was in regular cadence, and became louder and louder. It was a boat pulling.
“Well, I am sure,” thought Smallbones, “they’ll think they have caught a queer fish anyhow;” and he waited very patiently for the fisherman to come up. At last he perceived the boat, which was very long, and pulled many oars. “They be the smugglers,” thought Smallbones.
“I wonder whether they’ll pick up a poor lad. Boat ahoy!”
The boat continued to pass towards the coast, impelled at the speed of seven or eight miles an hour, and was now nearly abreast of Smallbones, and not fifty yards from him.
“I say, boat ahoy!” screamed Smallbones, to the extent of his voice.
He was heard this time, and there was a pause in the pulling, the boat still driving through the water with the impulse which had been given her, as if she required no propelling power.
“I say, you ain’t a going for to come for to leave a poor lad here to be drowned, are you?”
“That’s Smallbones, I’ll swear,” cried Jemmy Ducks, who was steering the boat, and who immediately shifted the helm.
But Sir Robert Barclay paused; there was too much at stake to run any risk, even to save the life of a fellow-creature.
“You takes time for to think on it, anyhow,” cried Smallbones. “You are going for to leave a fellow-Christian stuck like a herring in a fishing-net, are you? You would not like it yourself, anyhow.”
“It is Smallbones, sir,” repeated Jemmy Ducks, “and I’ll vouch for him as a lad that’s good and true.”
Sir Robert no longer hesitated: “Give way, my lads, and pick him up.”
In a few minutes Smallbones was hauled in over the gunwale, and was seated on the stern-sheets opposite to Sir Robert.
“It’s a great deal colder out of the water than in, that’s sartain,” observed Smallbones, shivering.
“Give way, my lads, we’ve no time to stay,” cried Sir Robert.
“Take this, Smallbones,” said Jemmy.
“Why, so it is, Jemmy Ducks!” replied Smallbones, with astonishment—“why, how did you come here?”
“Sarcumstances,” replied Jemmy; “how did you come there?”
“Sarcumstances too, Jemmy,” replied Smallbones.
“Keep silence,” said Sir Robert, and nothing more was said until the lugger dashed into the cave.
The cargo was landed, and Smallbones, who was very cold, was not sorry to assist. He carried up his load with the rest, and as usual the women came half-way down to receive it.
“Why, who have we here?” said one of the women to whom Smallbones was delivering his load, “why it’s Smallbones.”
“Yes,” replied Smallbones, “it is me; but how came you here, Nancy?”
“That’s tellings; but how came you, my lad?” replied Nancy.
“I came by water, any how.”
“Well, you are one of us now, you know there’s no going back.”
“I’m sure I don’t want to go back, Nancy; but what is to be done? nothing unchristian-like, I hope.”
“We’re all good Christians here, Smallbones; we don’t bow down to idols and pay duty to them as other people do.”
“Do you fear God, and honour the king?”
“We do; the first as much as the other people, and as for the king, we love him and serve him faithfully.”
“Well, then, I suppose that’s all right,” replied Smallbones; “but where do you live?”
“Come with me, take your load up, and I will show you, for the sooner you are there the better; the boat will be off again in half an hour if I mistake not.”
“Off, where?”
“To France, with a message to the king.”
“Why, the king’s in Holland! we left him there when we sailed!”
“Pooh! nonsense! come along.”
When Sir Robert arrived at the cave, he found an old friend anxiously awaiting his arrival; it was Graham, who had been dispatched by the Jacobites to the court of St. Germain, with intelligence of great importance, which was the death of the young Duke of Gloucester, the only surviving son of King William. He had, it was said, died of a malignant fever; but if the reader will call to mind the address of one of the Jesuits on the meeting at Cherbourg, he may have some surmises as to the cause of the duke’s decease. As this event rendered the succession uncertain, the hopes of the Jacobites were raised to the highest pitch; the more so as the country was in a state of anxiety and confusion, and King William was absent at the Hague. Graham had, therefore, been dispatched to the exiled James, with the propositions from his friends in England, and to press the necessity of an invasion of the country. As Nancy had supposed, Sir Robert decided upon immediately crossing over to Cherbourg, the crew were allowed a short time to repose and refresh themselves, and once more returned to their laborious employment; Jemmy Ducks satisfied Sir Robert that Smallbones might be trusted and be useful, and Nancy corroborated his assertions. He was, therefore, allowed to remain in the cave with the women, and Sir Robert and his crew, long before Smallbones’ garments were dry, were again crossing the English Channel.
Now it must be observed, that Smallbones was never well off for clothes, and, on this occasion, when he fell overboard, he had nothing on but an old pair of thin linen trousers and a shirt, which, from dint of long washing, from check had turned to a light cerulean blue: what with his struggles at the net and the force used to pull him into the boat, the shirt had more than one-half disappeared—that is to say, one sleeve and the back were wholly gone, and the other sleeve was well prepared to follow its fellow, on the first capful of wind. His trousers also were in almost as bad a state. In hauling him in, when his head was over the gunwale, one of the men had seized him by the seat of his trousers to lift him into the boat, and the consequence was, that the seat of his trousers having been too long sat upon, was also left in his muscular gripe. All these items put together, the reader may infer, that, although Smallbones might appear merely ragged in front, that in his rear he could not be considered as decent, especially as he was the only one of the masculine sex among a body of females. No notice was taken of this by others, nor did Smallbones observe it himself, during the confusion and bustle previous to the departure of the smugglers; but now they were gone, Smallbones perceived his deficiencies, and was very much at a loss what to do, as he was aware that daylight would discover them to others as well as to himself: so he fixed his back up against one of the rocks, and remained idle while the women were busily employed storing away the cargo in the various compartments of the cave.
Nancy, who had not forgotten that he was with them, came up to him.
“Why do you stay there, Smallbones? you must be hungry and cold; come in with me, and I will find you something to eat.”
“I can’t, Mistress Nancy, I want your advice first. Has any of the men left any of their duds in this here cavern?”
“Duds! men! No, they keep them all on the other side. We have nothing but petticoats here and shimmeys.”
“Then what must I do?” exclaimed Smallbones.
“Oh, I see, your shirt is torn off your back. Well, never mind, I’ll lend you a shimmey.”
“Yes, Mistress Nancy, but it be more worse than that; I an’t got no behind to my trousers, they pulled it out when they pulled me into the boat. I sticks to this here rock for decency’s sake. What must I do?”
Nancy burst into a laugh. “Do? why, if you can’t have men’s clothes, you must put on the women’s, and then you’ll be in the regular uniform of the cave.”
“I do suppose that I must, but I can’t say that I like the idea much, anyhow,” replied Smallbones.
“Why, you don’t mean to stick to that rock like a limpet all your life, do you? there’s plenty of work for you.”
“If so be, I must, I must,” replied Smallbones.
“You can’t appear before Mistress Alice in that state,” replied Nancy. “She’s a lady bred and born, and very particular too, and then there’s Miss Lilly, you will turn her as red as a rose if she sees you.”
“Well, then, I suppose I must, Mistress Nancy, for I shall catch my death of cold here. I’m all wet and shivery, from being so long in the water, and my back, against the rock, feels just as ice.”
“No wonder; I’ll run and fetch you something,” replied Nancy, who was delighted at the idea of dressing up Smallbones as a woman.
Nancy soon returned with a chemise, a short flannel pet—and a shawl, which she gave to Smallbones, desiring him to take off his wet clothes, and substitute them. She would return to him as soon as he had put them on, and see that they were put tidy and right.
Smallbones retired behind one of the rocks, and soon shifted his clothes; he put everything on the hind part before, and had to alter them when she came. She adjusted the shawl, and then led him into the cave where he found Mistress Alice, and some of the women who were not busy with the cargo.
“Here’s the poor lad who was thrown overboard, madam,” said Nancy, retaining her gravity. “All his clothes were torn off his back, and I have been obliged to give him these to put on.”
Lady Ramsay could hardly repress a smile. Smallbones’ appearance was that of a tall gaunt creature, pale enough, and smooth enough to be a woman certainly, but cutting a most ridiculous figure. His long thin arms were bare, his neck was like a crane’s, and the petticoats were so short as to reach almost above his knees. Shoes and stockings he had none. His long hair was platted and matted with the salt water, and one side of his head was shaved, and exhibited a monstrous, half-healed scar.
Lady Ramsay asked him a few questions, and then desired Nancy to give him some refreshment, and find him something to lie down upon in the division of the cave which was used as a kitchen.
But we must now leave Smallbones to entertain the inhabitants of the cave with the history of his adventures, which he did at intervals, during his stay there. He retained his women’s clothes, for Nancy would not let him wear any other, and was a source of great amusement not only to the smugglers’ wives, but also to little Lilly, who would listen to his conversation and remarks, which were almost as naïve and unsophisticated as her own.
Chapter Forty Four.In which Mr Vanslyperken meets with a Double Defeat.It was late in the evening of the day after Smallbones had been so satisfactorily disposed of that the cutter arrived at Portsmouth; but from daylight until the time that the cutter anchored, there was no small confusion and bustle on board of the Yungfrau. When Vanslyperken’s cabin door was found to be locked, it was determined that Smallbones should not appear as a supernatural visitant that night, but wait till the one following; consequently the parties retired to bed, and Smallbones, who found the heat between decks very oppressive, had crept up the ladder and taken a berth in the small boat, that he might sleep cool and comfortable, intending to be down below again long before Mr Vanslyperken was up; but, as the reader knows, Mr Vanslyperken was up before him, and the consequence was that Smallbones went down into the sea instead of the lower deck, as he had intended.The next morning it was soon ascertained that Smallbones was not to be found, and the ship’s company were in a state of dismay. The boat, as soon as Smallbones had been turned out, had resumed her upright position, and one of the men when busy washing the decks, had made fast the gripe again, which he supposed had been cast off by accident when the ropes had been coiled up for washing, Smallbones not being at that time missed. When, therefore, the decks had been searched everywhere, and the lad was discovered not to be in the ship, the suspicion was very great. No one had seen him go up to sleep in the boat. The man who was at the wheel stated that Mr Vanslyperken had sent him down for a glass of grog, and had taken the helm for the time; but this proved nothing. His disappearance was a mystery not to be unravelled. An appeal to Mr Vanslyperken was, of course, impossible, for he did not know that the lad was on board. The whole day was spent in surmises and suppositions; but things all ended in the simple fact, that somehow or another Smallbones had fallen overboard, and there was an end of the poor fellow.So soon as the cutter was at anchor, Mr Vanslyperken hastened to perform his official duties, and anxious to learn how Smallbones had contrived to escape the clutches of his mother, bent his steps towards the half-way houses. He arrived at the door of his mother’s room, and knocked as usual, but there was no reply. It was now the latter end of July, and although it was past seven o’clock it was full daylight. Vanslyperken knocked again and again. His mother must be out, he thought: and if so, she always took the key with her. He had nothing to do but to wait for her return. The passage and staircase was dark, but there was a broad light in the room from the casement, and this light streamed from under the door of the room. A shade crossing the light, attracted Vanslyperken’s attention, and to while away the tediousness of waiting, he was curious to see what it was; he knelt down, looked under the door, and perceived the key which Smallbones had placed there; he inserted his finger and drew it forth, imagining that his mother had slid it beneath till her return.He fitted it to the lock and opened the door, when his olfactory nerves were offended with a dreadful stench, which surprised him the more as the casement was open. Vanslyperken surveyed the room: he perceived that the blood had been washed from the floor, and sand strewed over it. Had he not known that Smallbones had been on board of the cutter the day before, he would have thought that it had been the smell of the dead body not yet removed. This thought crossing his imagination, immediately made the truth flash upon him, and, as if instinctively, he went up to the bed and pulled down the clothes, when he recoiled back with horror at uncovering the face of his mother, now of a livid blue, and in the last stage of putrefaction.Overcome with the horrid sight, and the dreadful stench which accompanied it, he reeled to the casement and gasped for breath. A sickness came over him, and for some time he was incapable of acting, and barely capable of reflection.“She is gone, then,” thought he at last, and he shuddered when he asked himselfwhere. “She must have fallen by the hands of the lad,” continued he, and immediately the whole that had happened appeared to be revealed to him. “Yes, yes, he has recovered from the blow—killed her and locked the door—all is clear now, but I have revenged her death.”Vanslyperken, who had now recovered himself, went softly to the door, took out the key, and locked himself in. He had been debating in his mind whether he should call in the neighbours: but, on reflection, as no one had seen him enter, he determined that he would not. He would take his gold, and leave the door locked, and the key under it, as he found it, before her death was discovered: it would be supposed that she died a natural death, for the state of the body would render it impossible to prove the contrary. But there was one act necessary to be performed, at which Vanslyperken’s heart recoiled. The key of the oak chest was about his mother’s person, and he must obtain it; he must search for it in corruption and death, amongst creeping worms and noisome stench. It was half an hour before he could make up his mind to the task: but what will avarice not accomplish!He covered up the face, and with a trembling hand turned over the bedclothes. But we must not disgust our readers; it will suffice to say, that the key was obtained, and the chest opened.Vanslyperken found all his own gold, and much more than he had ever expected, belonging to his mother. There were other articles belonging to him, but he thought it prudent not to touch them. He loaded himself with the treasure, and when he felt that it was all secure, for he was obliged to divide it in different parcels, and stow it in various manners about his person, he re-locked the chest, placed the key in the cupboard, and quitting the room, made fast the door, and, like a dutiful son, left the remains of his mother to be inhumed at the expense of the parish.As he left the house without being observed, and gained the town of Portsmouth, never was Mr Vanslyperken’s body so heavily loaded, or his heart lighter. He had got rid of Smallbones and of his mother, both in a way perfectly satisfactory to himself.He had recovered his own gold, and had also been enriched beyond his hopes by his mother’s savings. He felt not the weight which he carried about his person, he wished it had been heavier. All he felt was, very anxious to be on board, and have his property secured. His boat waited for him, and one of the men informed him his presence was required at the admiral’s immediately; but Mr Vanslyperken first went on board, and having safely locked up all his treasures, then complied with the admiral’s wishes. They were to sail immediately, for the intelligence of the Duke of Gloucester’s death had just arrived with the despatches, announcing the same to be taken to King William, who was still at the Hague. Vanslyperken sent the boat on board with orders to Short, to heave short and loose sails, and then hastened up to the house of Lazarus the Jew, aware that the cutter would, in all probability, be dispatched immediately to the Hague. The Jew had the letters for Ramsay all prepared. Vanslyperken once more touched his liberal fee, and, in an hour, he was again under way for the Texel.During the passage, which was very quick, Mr Vanslyperken amused himself as usual, in copying the letters to Ramsay, which contained the most important intelligence of the projects of the Jacobites, and, from the various communications between Ramsay and the conspirators, Vanslyperken had also been made acquainted with the circumstance hitherto unknown to him, of the existence of the caves above the cove, where he had been taken to by the informer, as mentioned in the early part of this work, and also of the names of the parties who visited it.Of this intelligence Vanslyperken determined to avail himself by-and-bye. It was evident that there were only women in the cave, and Mr Vanslyperken counted his gold, patted the head of Snarleyyow, and indulged in anticipations of further wealth, and the hand of the widow Vandersloosh.All dreams! Mr Vanslyperken.The cutter arrived, and he landed with his despatches for the Government; and his letters to Ramsay being all delivered, Vanslyperken hastened to the widow’s, who, as usual, received him, all smiles. He now confided to her the death of his mother, and astonished her by representing the amount of his wealth, which he had the precaution to state that the major part of it was left him by his mother.“Where have you put it all, Mr Vanslyperken?” inquired the widow. And Vanslyperken replied that he had come to ask her advice on the subject, as it was at present all on board of the cutter. The widow, who was not indifferent to money, was more gracious than ever. She had a scheme in her head of persuading him to leave the money under her charge; but Vanslyperken was anxious to go on board again, for he discovered that the key was not in his pocket, and he was fearful that he might have left it on the cabin table; so he quitted rather abruptly, and the widow had not time to bring the battery to bear. As soon as Mr Vanslyperken arrived on board, Corporal Van Spitter, without asking leave, for he felt it was not necessary, went on shore, and was soon in the arms of his enamoured widow Vandersloosh. In the meantime, Mr Vanslyperken discovered the key in the pocket of the waistcoat he had thrown off, and having locked his door, he again opened his drawer, and delighted himself for an hour or two in re-arranging his treasure; after which, feeling himself in want of occupation, it occurred to him, that he might as well dedicate a little more time to the widow, so he manned his boat and went on shore again.It is all very well to have a morning and afternoon lover, if ladies are so inclined, just as they have a morning and afternoon dress, but they should be worn separately. Now, as it never entered the head of Mr Vanslyperken that the corporal was playing him false, so did it never enter the idea of the widow that Mr Vanslyperken would make his appearance in the evening, and leave the cutter and Snarleyyow, without the corporal being on board to watch over them.But Mr Vanslyperken did leave the cutter and Snarleyyow, did come on shore, did walk to the widow’s house, and did most unexpectedly enter it, and what was the consequence?—that he was not perceived when he entered it, and the door of the parlour as well as the front door being open to admit the air, for the widow and the corporal found that making love in the dog days was rather warm work for people of their calibre—to his mortification and rage the lieutenant beheld the corporal seated in his berth, on the little fubsy sofa, with one arm round the widow’s waist, his other hand joined in hers, and,proh pudor! sucking at her dewy lips like some huge carp under the water-lilies on a midsummer’s afternoon.Mr Vanslyperken was transfixed—the parties were too busy with their amorous interchange to perceive his presence: at last the corporal thought that his lips required moistening with a little of the beer of the widow’s own brewing, for the honey of her lips had rather glued them together—he turned towards the table to take up his tumbler, and he beheld Mr Vanslyperken.The corporal, for a moment, was equally transfixed; but on these occasions people act mechanically because they don’t know what to do. The corporal had been well drilled; he rose from the sofa, held himself perfectly upright, and raised the back of his right hand to his forehead; there he stood like a statue, saluting at the presence of his superior officer.The widow had also perceived the presence of Vanslyperken almost as soon as the corporal, but a woman’s wits are more at their command on these occasions than a man’s. She felt that all concealment was now useless, and she prepared for action. At the same time, although ready to discharge a volley of abuse upon Vanslyperken, she paused, to ascertain how she should proceed. Assuming an indifferent air, she said—“Well, Mr Vanslyperken?”“Well!” exclaimed Vanslyperken, but he could not speak for passion.“Eaves-dropping, as usual, Mr Vanslyperken?”“May the roof of this house drop on you, you infernal—!”“No indelicate language, if you please, sir,” interrupted the widow, “I won’t put up with it in my house, I can tell you.—Ho, ho, Mr Vanslyperken,” continued the widow, working herself into a rage, “that won’t do here, Mr Vanslyperken.”“Why, you audacious—you double-faced—”“Double-faced!—it’s a pity you wer’n’t double-faced, as you call it, with that snivelling nose and crooked chin of your’s. Double-faced, heh!—oh! oh! Mr Vanslyperken—we shall see—wait a little—we shall see who’s double-faced. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken—that for you, Mr Vanslyperken—I can hang you when I please, Mr Vanslyperken. Corporal, how many guineas did you see counted out to him at the house opposite?”During all this the corporal remained fixed and immovable with his hand up to the salute; but on being questioned by his mistress, he replied, remaining in the same respectful attitude—“Fifty golden guineas, Mrs Vandersloosh.”“A lie! an infamous lie!” cried Vanslyperken, drawing his sword. “Traitor that you are,” continued he to the corporal, “take your reward.” This was a very critical moment. The corporal did not attempt the defensive, but remained in the same attitude, and Vanslyperken’s rage at the falsehood of the widow and the discovery of his treason was so great, that he lost all command of himself. Had not a third party come in just as Vanslyperken drew his sword, it might have gone hard with the corporal; but, fortunately, Babette came in from the yard, and perceiving the sword fly out of the scabbard, she put her hand behind the door, and snatched two long-handled brooms, one of which she put into the hands of her mistress, and retained the other herself.“Take your reward!” cried Vanslyperken, running furiously to cut down the corporal. But his career was stopped by the two brooms, one of which took him in the face, and the other in the chest. The widow and Babette now ranged side by side, holding their brooms as soldiers do their arms in a charge of bayonets.How did the corporal act? He retained his former respectful position, leaving the defensive or offensive in the hands of the widow and Babette.This cheek on the part of Vanslyperken only added to his rage. Again he flew with his sword at the corporal, and again he was met with the besoms in his face. He caught one with his hand, and he was knocked back with the other. He attempted to cut them in two with his sword, but in vain.“Out of my house, you villain!—you traitor—out of my house,” cried the widow, pushing at him with such force as to drive him against the wall, and pinning him there while Babette charged him in his face, which was now streaming with blood. The attack was now followed up with such vigour, that Vanslyperken was first obliged to retreat to the door, then out of the door into the street; followed into the street, he took to his heels, and the widow and Babette returned victorious into the parlour to the corporal. Mr Vanslyperken could not accuse him of want of respect to his superior officer; he had saluted him on entering, and he was still saluting him when he made his exit.The widow threw herself on the sofa—Corporal Van Spitter then took his seat beside her. The widow, overcome by her rage and exertion, burst into tears and sobbed in his arms.The corporal poured out a glass of beer, and persuaded her to drink it.“I’ll have him hanged to-morrow, at all events. I’ll go to the Hague myself,” cried the widow. “Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see who will gain the day,” continued the widow, sobbing.“You can prove it, corporal?”“Mein Gott! yes,” replied the corporal.“As soon as he’s hung, corporal, we’ll marry.”“Mein Gott! yes.”“Traitorous villain!—sell his king and his country for gold!”“Mein Gott! yes.”“You’re sure it was fifty guineas, corporal?”“Mein Gott! yes.”“Ah, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see,” said the widow, drying her eyes. “Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, you shall be hanged, and your cur with you, or my name’s not Vandersloosh.”“Mein Gott! yes,” replied the corporal.
It was late in the evening of the day after Smallbones had been so satisfactorily disposed of that the cutter arrived at Portsmouth; but from daylight until the time that the cutter anchored, there was no small confusion and bustle on board of the Yungfrau. When Vanslyperken’s cabin door was found to be locked, it was determined that Smallbones should not appear as a supernatural visitant that night, but wait till the one following; consequently the parties retired to bed, and Smallbones, who found the heat between decks very oppressive, had crept up the ladder and taken a berth in the small boat, that he might sleep cool and comfortable, intending to be down below again long before Mr Vanslyperken was up; but, as the reader knows, Mr Vanslyperken was up before him, and the consequence was that Smallbones went down into the sea instead of the lower deck, as he had intended.
The next morning it was soon ascertained that Smallbones was not to be found, and the ship’s company were in a state of dismay. The boat, as soon as Smallbones had been turned out, had resumed her upright position, and one of the men when busy washing the decks, had made fast the gripe again, which he supposed had been cast off by accident when the ropes had been coiled up for washing, Smallbones not being at that time missed. When, therefore, the decks had been searched everywhere, and the lad was discovered not to be in the ship, the suspicion was very great. No one had seen him go up to sleep in the boat. The man who was at the wheel stated that Mr Vanslyperken had sent him down for a glass of grog, and had taken the helm for the time; but this proved nothing. His disappearance was a mystery not to be unravelled. An appeal to Mr Vanslyperken was, of course, impossible, for he did not know that the lad was on board. The whole day was spent in surmises and suppositions; but things all ended in the simple fact, that somehow or another Smallbones had fallen overboard, and there was an end of the poor fellow.
So soon as the cutter was at anchor, Mr Vanslyperken hastened to perform his official duties, and anxious to learn how Smallbones had contrived to escape the clutches of his mother, bent his steps towards the half-way houses. He arrived at the door of his mother’s room, and knocked as usual, but there was no reply. It was now the latter end of July, and although it was past seven o’clock it was full daylight. Vanslyperken knocked again and again. His mother must be out, he thought: and if so, she always took the key with her. He had nothing to do but to wait for her return. The passage and staircase was dark, but there was a broad light in the room from the casement, and this light streamed from under the door of the room. A shade crossing the light, attracted Vanslyperken’s attention, and to while away the tediousness of waiting, he was curious to see what it was; he knelt down, looked under the door, and perceived the key which Smallbones had placed there; he inserted his finger and drew it forth, imagining that his mother had slid it beneath till her return.
He fitted it to the lock and opened the door, when his olfactory nerves were offended with a dreadful stench, which surprised him the more as the casement was open. Vanslyperken surveyed the room: he perceived that the blood had been washed from the floor, and sand strewed over it. Had he not known that Smallbones had been on board of the cutter the day before, he would have thought that it had been the smell of the dead body not yet removed. This thought crossing his imagination, immediately made the truth flash upon him, and, as if instinctively, he went up to the bed and pulled down the clothes, when he recoiled back with horror at uncovering the face of his mother, now of a livid blue, and in the last stage of putrefaction.
Overcome with the horrid sight, and the dreadful stench which accompanied it, he reeled to the casement and gasped for breath. A sickness came over him, and for some time he was incapable of acting, and barely capable of reflection.
“She is gone, then,” thought he at last, and he shuddered when he asked himselfwhere. “She must have fallen by the hands of the lad,” continued he, and immediately the whole that had happened appeared to be revealed to him. “Yes, yes, he has recovered from the blow—killed her and locked the door—all is clear now, but I have revenged her death.”
Vanslyperken, who had now recovered himself, went softly to the door, took out the key, and locked himself in. He had been debating in his mind whether he should call in the neighbours: but, on reflection, as no one had seen him enter, he determined that he would not. He would take his gold, and leave the door locked, and the key under it, as he found it, before her death was discovered: it would be supposed that she died a natural death, for the state of the body would render it impossible to prove the contrary. But there was one act necessary to be performed, at which Vanslyperken’s heart recoiled. The key of the oak chest was about his mother’s person, and he must obtain it; he must search for it in corruption and death, amongst creeping worms and noisome stench. It was half an hour before he could make up his mind to the task: but what will avarice not accomplish!
He covered up the face, and with a trembling hand turned over the bedclothes. But we must not disgust our readers; it will suffice to say, that the key was obtained, and the chest opened.
Vanslyperken found all his own gold, and much more than he had ever expected, belonging to his mother. There were other articles belonging to him, but he thought it prudent not to touch them. He loaded himself with the treasure, and when he felt that it was all secure, for he was obliged to divide it in different parcels, and stow it in various manners about his person, he re-locked the chest, placed the key in the cupboard, and quitting the room, made fast the door, and, like a dutiful son, left the remains of his mother to be inhumed at the expense of the parish.
As he left the house without being observed, and gained the town of Portsmouth, never was Mr Vanslyperken’s body so heavily loaded, or his heart lighter. He had got rid of Smallbones and of his mother, both in a way perfectly satisfactory to himself.
He had recovered his own gold, and had also been enriched beyond his hopes by his mother’s savings. He felt not the weight which he carried about his person, he wished it had been heavier. All he felt was, very anxious to be on board, and have his property secured. His boat waited for him, and one of the men informed him his presence was required at the admiral’s immediately; but Mr Vanslyperken first went on board, and having safely locked up all his treasures, then complied with the admiral’s wishes. They were to sail immediately, for the intelligence of the Duke of Gloucester’s death had just arrived with the despatches, announcing the same to be taken to King William, who was still at the Hague. Vanslyperken sent the boat on board with orders to Short, to heave short and loose sails, and then hastened up to the house of Lazarus the Jew, aware that the cutter would, in all probability, be dispatched immediately to the Hague. The Jew had the letters for Ramsay all prepared. Vanslyperken once more touched his liberal fee, and, in an hour, he was again under way for the Texel.
During the passage, which was very quick, Mr Vanslyperken amused himself as usual, in copying the letters to Ramsay, which contained the most important intelligence of the projects of the Jacobites, and, from the various communications between Ramsay and the conspirators, Vanslyperken had also been made acquainted with the circumstance hitherto unknown to him, of the existence of the caves above the cove, where he had been taken to by the informer, as mentioned in the early part of this work, and also of the names of the parties who visited it.
Of this intelligence Vanslyperken determined to avail himself by-and-bye. It was evident that there were only women in the cave, and Mr Vanslyperken counted his gold, patted the head of Snarleyyow, and indulged in anticipations of further wealth, and the hand of the widow Vandersloosh.
All dreams! Mr Vanslyperken.
The cutter arrived, and he landed with his despatches for the Government; and his letters to Ramsay being all delivered, Vanslyperken hastened to the widow’s, who, as usual, received him, all smiles. He now confided to her the death of his mother, and astonished her by representing the amount of his wealth, which he had the precaution to state that the major part of it was left him by his mother.
“Where have you put it all, Mr Vanslyperken?” inquired the widow. And Vanslyperken replied that he had come to ask her advice on the subject, as it was at present all on board of the cutter. The widow, who was not indifferent to money, was more gracious than ever. She had a scheme in her head of persuading him to leave the money under her charge; but Vanslyperken was anxious to go on board again, for he discovered that the key was not in his pocket, and he was fearful that he might have left it on the cabin table; so he quitted rather abruptly, and the widow had not time to bring the battery to bear. As soon as Mr Vanslyperken arrived on board, Corporal Van Spitter, without asking leave, for he felt it was not necessary, went on shore, and was soon in the arms of his enamoured widow Vandersloosh. In the meantime, Mr Vanslyperken discovered the key in the pocket of the waistcoat he had thrown off, and having locked his door, he again opened his drawer, and delighted himself for an hour or two in re-arranging his treasure; after which, feeling himself in want of occupation, it occurred to him, that he might as well dedicate a little more time to the widow, so he manned his boat and went on shore again.
It is all very well to have a morning and afternoon lover, if ladies are so inclined, just as they have a morning and afternoon dress, but they should be worn separately. Now, as it never entered the head of Mr Vanslyperken that the corporal was playing him false, so did it never enter the idea of the widow that Mr Vanslyperken would make his appearance in the evening, and leave the cutter and Snarleyyow, without the corporal being on board to watch over them.
But Mr Vanslyperken did leave the cutter and Snarleyyow, did come on shore, did walk to the widow’s house, and did most unexpectedly enter it, and what was the consequence?—that he was not perceived when he entered it, and the door of the parlour as well as the front door being open to admit the air, for the widow and the corporal found that making love in the dog days was rather warm work for people of their calibre—to his mortification and rage the lieutenant beheld the corporal seated in his berth, on the little fubsy sofa, with one arm round the widow’s waist, his other hand joined in hers, and,proh pudor! sucking at her dewy lips like some huge carp under the water-lilies on a midsummer’s afternoon.
Mr Vanslyperken was transfixed—the parties were too busy with their amorous interchange to perceive his presence: at last the corporal thought that his lips required moistening with a little of the beer of the widow’s own brewing, for the honey of her lips had rather glued them together—he turned towards the table to take up his tumbler, and he beheld Mr Vanslyperken.
The corporal, for a moment, was equally transfixed; but on these occasions people act mechanically because they don’t know what to do. The corporal had been well drilled; he rose from the sofa, held himself perfectly upright, and raised the back of his right hand to his forehead; there he stood like a statue, saluting at the presence of his superior officer.
The widow had also perceived the presence of Vanslyperken almost as soon as the corporal, but a woman’s wits are more at their command on these occasions than a man’s. She felt that all concealment was now useless, and she prepared for action. At the same time, although ready to discharge a volley of abuse upon Vanslyperken, she paused, to ascertain how she should proceed. Assuming an indifferent air, she said—“Well, Mr Vanslyperken?”
“Well!” exclaimed Vanslyperken, but he could not speak for passion.
“Eaves-dropping, as usual, Mr Vanslyperken?”
“May the roof of this house drop on you, you infernal—!”
“No indelicate language, if you please, sir,” interrupted the widow, “I won’t put up with it in my house, I can tell you.—Ho, ho, Mr Vanslyperken,” continued the widow, working herself into a rage, “that won’t do here, Mr Vanslyperken.”
“Why, you audacious—you double-faced—”
“Double-faced!—it’s a pity you wer’n’t double-faced, as you call it, with that snivelling nose and crooked chin of your’s. Double-faced, heh!—oh! oh! Mr Vanslyperken—we shall see—wait a little—we shall see who’s double-faced. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken—that for you, Mr Vanslyperken—I can hang you when I please, Mr Vanslyperken. Corporal, how many guineas did you see counted out to him at the house opposite?”
During all this the corporal remained fixed and immovable with his hand up to the salute; but on being questioned by his mistress, he replied, remaining in the same respectful attitude—
“Fifty golden guineas, Mrs Vandersloosh.”
“A lie! an infamous lie!” cried Vanslyperken, drawing his sword. “Traitor that you are,” continued he to the corporal, “take your reward.” This was a very critical moment. The corporal did not attempt the defensive, but remained in the same attitude, and Vanslyperken’s rage at the falsehood of the widow and the discovery of his treason was so great, that he lost all command of himself. Had not a third party come in just as Vanslyperken drew his sword, it might have gone hard with the corporal; but, fortunately, Babette came in from the yard, and perceiving the sword fly out of the scabbard, she put her hand behind the door, and snatched two long-handled brooms, one of which she put into the hands of her mistress, and retained the other herself.
“Take your reward!” cried Vanslyperken, running furiously to cut down the corporal. But his career was stopped by the two brooms, one of which took him in the face, and the other in the chest. The widow and Babette now ranged side by side, holding their brooms as soldiers do their arms in a charge of bayonets.
How did the corporal act? He retained his former respectful position, leaving the defensive or offensive in the hands of the widow and Babette.
This cheek on the part of Vanslyperken only added to his rage. Again he flew with his sword at the corporal, and again he was met with the besoms in his face. He caught one with his hand, and he was knocked back with the other. He attempted to cut them in two with his sword, but in vain.
“Out of my house, you villain!—you traitor—out of my house,” cried the widow, pushing at him with such force as to drive him against the wall, and pinning him there while Babette charged him in his face, which was now streaming with blood. The attack was now followed up with such vigour, that Vanslyperken was first obliged to retreat to the door, then out of the door into the street; followed into the street, he took to his heels, and the widow and Babette returned victorious into the parlour to the corporal. Mr Vanslyperken could not accuse him of want of respect to his superior officer; he had saluted him on entering, and he was still saluting him when he made his exit.
The widow threw herself on the sofa—Corporal Van Spitter then took his seat beside her. The widow, overcome by her rage and exertion, burst into tears and sobbed in his arms.
The corporal poured out a glass of beer, and persuaded her to drink it.
“I’ll have him hanged to-morrow, at all events. I’ll go to the Hague myself,” cried the widow. “Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see who will gain the day,” continued the widow, sobbing.
“You can prove it, corporal?”
“Mein Gott! yes,” replied the corporal.
“As soon as he’s hung, corporal, we’ll marry.”
“Mein Gott! yes.”
“Traitorous villain!—sell his king and his country for gold!”
“Mein Gott! yes.”
“You’re sure it was fifty guineas, corporal?”
“Mein Gott! yes.”
“Ah, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see,” said the widow, drying her eyes. “Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, you shall be hanged, and your cur with you, or my name’s not Vandersloosh.”
“Mein Gott! yes,” replied the corporal.
Chapter Forty Five.In which Mr Vanslyperken proves his Loyalty and his Fidelity to King William.Mr Vanslyperken hastened from his inglorious conflict, maddened with rage and disappointment. He returned on board, went down into his cabin, and threw himself on his bed. His hopes and calculations had been so brilliant—rid of his enemy Smallbones—with gold in possession, and more in prospect, to be so cruelly deceived by the widow—the cockatrice. Then by one to whom he fully confided, and who knew too many of his secrets already—Corporal Van Spitter—he too!—and to dare to aspire to the widow—it was madness—and then their knowledge of his treason—the corporal having witnessed his receiving the gold—with such bitter enemies, what could he expect but a halter?—he felt it even now round his neck; and Vanslyperken groaned in the bitterness of his spirit.In the meantime, there was a consultation between the widow and the corporal as to the best method of proceeding. That the corporal could expect nothing but the most determined hostility from Vanslyperken was certain; but for this the corporal cared little, as he had all the crew of the cutter on his side, and he was in his own person too high in rank to be at the mercy of Vanslyperken.After many pros and cons, and at least a dozen bottles of beer—for the excitement on the part of the corporal, and the exertion of the widow, had made them both dry—it was resolved that the Frau Vandersloosh should demand an audience at the Hague the next morning, and should communicate the treasonable practices of Mr Vanslyperken, calling upon the corporal as a witness to the receipt of the money from the Jesuit.“Mein Gott!” exclaimed the corporal, striking his bull forehead as if a new thought had required being forced out, “but they will ask me how I came there myself, and what shall I say?”“Say that the Jesuit-father had sent for you to try and seduce you to do his treason, but that you would not consent.”“Mein Gott! yes—that will do.”The corporal then returned on board, but did not think it worth while to report himself to Mr Vanslyperken.Mr Vanslyperken had also been thinking over the matter, and in what way he should be able to escape from the toils prepared for him. That the widow would immediately inform the authorities he was convinced. How was he to get out of his scrape?Upon mature reflection, he decided that it was to be done. He had copies of all Ramsay’s letters, and those addressed to him, and the last delivered were very important.Now, his best plan would be to set off for the Hague early the next morning—demand an interview with one of the ministers, or even his majesty himself—state that he had been offered money from the Jacobite party to carry their letters, and that, with a view to serve his majesty by finding out their secrets, he had consented to do it, and had taken the money to satisfy them that he was sincere. That he had opened the letters and copied them, and that now, as the contents were important, he had thought it right to make them immediately known to the Government, and at the same time to bring the money received for the service, to be placed at his majesty’s disposal.“Whether she is before or after me,” thought Vanslyperken, “it will then be little matter, all I shall have to fear will be from Ramsay and his party; but the Government will be bound to protect me.”There certainly was much wisdom in this plan of Vanslyperken; it was the only one which could have been attended with success, or with any chance of it.Mr Vanslyperken was up at daylight, and dressed in his best uniform; he put in his pocket all the copies of the Jacobite correspondence, and went on shore—hired a calash, for he did not know how to ride, and set off for the Hague, where he arrived about ten o’clock. He sent up his name, and requested an audience of the Duke of Portland, as an officer commanding one of his majesty’s vessels; he was immediately admitted.“What is your pleasure, Mr Vanslyperken?” said the duke, who was standing at the table, in company with Lord Albemarle.Vanslyperken was a little confused—he muttered, and stammered about anxiety, and loyalty, and fidelity, and excess of zeal, etcetera.No wonder he stammered, for he was talking of what he he knew nothing about; but these two noblemen recollecting his confusion when presented to his sovereign on board of the frigate, made allowances.“I have at last,” cried Vanslyperken, with more confidence, “been able to discover the plots of the Jacobites, your grace.”“Indeed! Mr Vanslyperken,” replied the duke, smiling incredulously, “and pray what may they be? you must be as expeditious as possible, for his majesty is waiting for us.”“These letters will take some time to read,” replied Vanslyperken; “but their contents are most important.”“Indeed! letters—how have you possession of their letters?”“It will be rather a long story, sir—my lord! I mean,” replied Vanslyperken; “but they will amply repay an hour of your time, if you can spare it.”At this moment the door opened, and his majesty entered the room. At the sight of the king, Vanslyperken’s confidence was again taking French leave.“My lords, I am waiting for you,” said the king, with a little asperity of manner.“May it please your majesty, here is Lieutenant Vanslyperken, commanding one of your majesty’s vessels, who states that he has important intelligence, and that he has possession of Jacobite papers.”“Indeed!” replied King William, who was always alive to Jacobite plotting, from which he had already run so much risk.“What is it, Mr Vanslyperken? speak boldly what you have to communicate.”“Your majesty, I beg your gracious pardon, but here are copies of the correspondence carried on by the traitors in England and this country. If your majesty will deign to have it read, you will then perceive how important it is. After your majesty has read it, I will have the honour to explain to you by what means it came into my possession.”King William was a man of business, and Vanslyperken had done wisely in making this proposal. His majesty at once sat down, with the Duke of Portland on one side, and Lord Albemarle on the other: the latter took the letters, which were arranged according to their dates, and read them in a clear, distinct voice.As the reading went on, his majesty made memorandums and notes with his pencil on a sheet of paper, but did not interrupt during the whole progress of the lecture. When the last and most important was finished, the two noblemen looked at his majesty, with countenances full of meaning. For a few moments, his majesty drummed with the second and third finger of his left hand upon the table, and then said—“Pray, Mr Vanslyperken, how did you obtain possession of these papers and letters, or make copies of these letters?”Vanslyperken, who had been standing at the other side of the table during the time of the reading, had anxiously watched the countenance of his majesty and the two noblemen, and perceived that the intelligence which the letters contained had created a strong feeling, as he expected. With a certain degree of confidence, he commenced his explanation.He stated that the crew of the cutter had been accustomed to frequent the Lust Haus of a certain widow Vandersloosh, and that he had made her acquaintance, by several times going there to look after his seamen.That this widow had often hinted to him, and at last proposed to him, that he should take letters for some friends of hers—at last she had told him plainly that it was for the Jacobite party, and he pretended, to consent.That he had been taken by her to the house of a Jesuit, 169, in the Bur Street, nearly opposite to her Lust Haus, and that the Jesuit had given him some letters and fifty guineas for his trouble.He then stated that he had opened, copied, and re-sealed them: further, that he had brought over one of the confederates, who was now residing in the house of the syndic, Van Krause. That he should have made all this known before, only that he waited till it was more important. That the last letters appeared of such consequence, that he deemed it his duty no longer to delay.“You have done well, Mr Vanslyperken,” replied his majesty.“And played a bold game,” observed Lord Albemarle, fixing his eyes upon Vanslyperken. “Suppose you had been found out co-operating with traitors, before you made this discovery?”“I might have forfeited my life in my zeal,” replied Mr Vanslyperken, with adroitness; “but that is the duty of a king’s officer.”“That is well said,” observed the Duke of Portland.“I have a few questions to put to you, Mr Vanslyperken,” observed his majesty.“What is the cave they mention so often?”“It is on the bank of the Isle of Wight, your majesty. I did not know of its existence but from the letters—but I once laid a whole night in the cove underneath it, to intercept the smugglers, upon information that I had received; but the alarm was given, and they escaped.”“Who is their agent at Portsmouth?”“A Jew of the name of Lazarus, residing in Little Orange Street, at the back of the Point, your majesty.”“Do you know any of the names of the conspirators?”“I do not, your majesty, except a woman, who is very active one Moggy Salisbury—her husband, not a month back, was the boatswain of the cutter, but by some interest or another, he has obtained his discharge.”“My Lord of Portland, take a memorandum to inquire who it was applied for the discharge of that man. Mr Vanslyperken, you may retire—we will call you in by-and-bye—you will be secret as to what has passed.”“I have one more duty to perform,” replied Vanslyperken, taking some rouleaus of gold out of his pocket; “this is the money received from the traitors—it is not for a king’s officer to have it in his possession.”“You are right, Mr Vanslyperken, but the gold of traitors is forfeited to the crown, and it is now mine; you will accept it as a present from your king.”Mr Vanslyperken took the gold from the table, made a bow, and retired from the royal presence.The reader will acknowledge that it was impossible to play his cards better than Mr Vanslyperken had done in this interview, and that he deserved great credit for his astute conduct. With such diplomatic talents, he would have made a great prime minister.“The council was ordered at twelve o’clock, my lords. These letters must (be) produced. That they are genuine appears to me beyond a doubt.”“That they are faithful copies, I doubt not,” replied Lord Albemarle, “but—”“But what, my Lord Albemarle?”“I very much suspect the fidelity of the copier—there is something more, that has not been told, depend upon it.”“Why do you think so, my lord?”“Because, your majesty, allowing that a man would act the part that Mr Vanslyperken says that he has done to discover the conspiracy, still, would he not naturally, to avoid any risk to himself, have furnished Government with the first correspondence, and obtained their sanction for prosecuting his plans? This officer has been employed for the last two years or more in carrying the despatches to the Hague, and it must at once strike your majesty, that a person who can, with such dexterity, open the letters of others, can also open those of his own Government.”“That is true, my lord,” replied his majesty, musing.“Your majesty is well aware that suspicions were entertained of the fidelity of the syndic, suspicions which the evidence of this officer have verified. But why were these suspicions raised? Because he knew of the Government secrets, and it was supposed he obtained them from some one who is in our trust, but inimical to us and unworthy of the confidence reposed in him.“Your majesty’s acuteness will at once perceive that the secrets may have been obtained by Mynheer Krause by the same means as have been resorted to, to obtain the secrets of the conspirators. I may be in error, and if I do this officer wrong by my suspicions, may God forgive me, but there is something in his looks which tells me—”“What, my lord?”“That he is a traitor to both parties, may it please your majesty.”“By the Lord, Albemarle, I think you have hit upon the truth,” replied the Duke of Portland.“Of that we shall soon have proof—at present, we have to decide whether it be advisable to employ him to discover more, or at once seize upon the parties he has denounced. But that had better be canvassed in the council-chamber. Come, my lords, they be waiting for us.”The affair was of too great importance not to absorb all other business, and it was decided that the house of Mynheer Krause, and of the Jesuit, and the widow Vandersloosh should be entered by the peace-officers, at midnight, and that they and any of the conspirators who might be found should be thrown into prison. That the cutter should be dispatched immediately to England, with orders to seize all the other parties informed against by Vanslyperken, and that a force should be sent to attack the cave, and secure those who might be found there, with directions to the admiral, that Mr Vanslyperken should be employed both as a guide, and to give the assistance of the cutter and his crew.These arrangements having been made, the council broke up, King William had a conference with his two favourites, and Vanslyperken was sent for.“Lieutenant Vanslyperken, we feel much indebted to you for your important communications, and we shall not forget, in due time, to reward your zeal and loyalty as it deserves. At present, it is necessary that you sail for England as soon as our despatches are ready, which will be before midnight; you will then receive your orders from the admiral, at Portsmouth, and I have no doubt you will take the opportunity of affording us fresh proofs of your fidelity and attachment.”Mr Vanslyperken bowed humbly and retired, delighted with the successful result of his manoeuvre, and with a gay heart he leaped into his calash, and drove off.“Yes, yes,” thought he, “Madam Vandersloosh, you would betray me. We shall see. Yes, yes, we shall see, Madam Vandersloosh.”And sure enough he did see Madam Vandersloosh, who in another calash was driving to the palace, and who met him face to face.Vanslyperken turned up his nose at her as he passed by, and the widow, astonished at his presumption, thought, as she went on her way, “Well, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see: you may turn up your snivelling nose, but stop till your head’s in the halter—yes, Mr Vanslyperken, stop till your head’s in the halter.”We must leave Mr Vanslyperken to drive, and the widow Vandersloosh to drive, while we drive on ourselves. The subsequent events of this eventful day we will narrate in the following chapter.
Mr Vanslyperken hastened from his inglorious conflict, maddened with rage and disappointment. He returned on board, went down into his cabin, and threw himself on his bed. His hopes and calculations had been so brilliant—rid of his enemy Smallbones—with gold in possession, and more in prospect, to be so cruelly deceived by the widow—the cockatrice. Then by one to whom he fully confided, and who knew too many of his secrets already—Corporal Van Spitter—he too!—and to dare to aspire to the widow—it was madness—and then their knowledge of his treason—the corporal having witnessed his receiving the gold—with such bitter enemies, what could he expect but a halter?—he felt it even now round his neck; and Vanslyperken groaned in the bitterness of his spirit.
In the meantime, there was a consultation between the widow and the corporal as to the best method of proceeding. That the corporal could expect nothing but the most determined hostility from Vanslyperken was certain; but for this the corporal cared little, as he had all the crew of the cutter on his side, and he was in his own person too high in rank to be at the mercy of Vanslyperken.
After many pros and cons, and at least a dozen bottles of beer—for the excitement on the part of the corporal, and the exertion of the widow, had made them both dry—it was resolved that the Frau Vandersloosh should demand an audience at the Hague the next morning, and should communicate the treasonable practices of Mr Vanslyperken, calling upon the corporal as a witness to the receipt of the money from the Jesuit.
“Mein Gott!” exclaimed the corporal, striking his bull forehead as if a new thought had required being forced out, “but they will ask me how I came there myself, and what shall I say?”
“Say that the Jesuit-father had sent for you to try and seduce you to do his treason, but that you would not consent.”
“Mein Gott! yes—that will do.”
The corporal then returned on board, but did not think it worth while to report himself to Mr Vanslyperken.
Mr Vanslyperken had also been thinking over the matter, and in what way he should be able to escape from the toils prepared for him. That the widow would immediately inform the authorities he was convinced. How was he to get out of his scrape?
Upon mature reflection, he decided that it was to be done. He had copies of all Ramsay’s letters, and those addressed to him, and the last delivered were very important.Now, his best plan would be to set off for the Hague early the next morning—demand an interview with one of the ministers, or even his majesty himself—state that he had been offered money from the Jacobite party to carry their letters, and that, with a view to serve his majesty by finding out their secrets, he had consented to do it, and had taken the money to satisfy them that he was sincere. That he had opened the letters and copied them, and that now, as the contents were important, he had thought it right to make them immediately known to the Government, and at the same time to bring the money received for the service, to be placed at his majesty’s disposal.
“Whether she is before or after me,” thought Vanslyperken, “it will then be little matter, all I shall have to fear will be from Ramsay and his party; but the Government will be bound to protect me.”
There certainly was much wisdom in this plan of Vanslyperken; it was the only one which could have been attended with success, or with any chance of it.
Mr Vanslyperken was up at daylight, and dressed in his best uniform; he put in his pocket all the copies of the Jacobite correspondence, and went on shore—hired a calash, for he did not know how to ride, and set off for the Hague, where he arrived about ten o’clock. He sent up his name, and requested an audience of the Duke of Portland, as an officer commanding one of his majesty’s vessels; he was immediately admitted.
“What is your pleasure, Mr Vanslyperken?” said the duke, who was standing at the table, in company with Lord Albemarle.
Vanslyperken was a little confused—he muttered, and stammered about anxiety, and loyalty, and fidelity, and excess of zeal, etcetera.
No wonder he stammered, for he was talking of what he he knew nothing about; but these two noblemen recollecting his confusion when presented to his sovereign on board of the frigate, made allowances.
“I have at last,” cried Vanslyperken, with more confidence, “been able to discover the plots of the Jacobites, your grace.”
“Indeed! Mr Vanslyperken,” replied the duke, smiling incredulously, “and pray what may they be? you must be as expeditious as possible, for his majesty is waiting for us.”
“These letters will take some time to read,” replied Vanslyperken; “but their contents are most important.”
“Indeed! letters—how have you possession of their letters?”
“It will be rather a long story, sir—my lord! I mean,” replied Vanslyperken; “but they will amply repay an hour of your time, if you can spare it.”
At this moment the door opened, and his majesty entered the room. At the sight of the king, Vanslyperken’s confidence was again taking French leave.
“My lords, I am waiting for you,” said the king, with a little asperity of manner.
“May it please your majesty, here is Lieutenant Vanslyperken, commanding one of your majesty’s vessels, who states that he has important intelligence, and that he has possession of Jacobite papers.”
“Indeed!” replied King William, who was always alive to Jacobite plotting, from which he had already run so much risk.
“What is it, Mr Vanslyperken? speak boldly what you have to communicate.”
“Your majesty, I beg your gracious pardon, but here are copies of the correspondence carried on by the traitors in England and this country. If your majesty will deign to have it read, you will then perceive how important it is. After your majesty has read it, I will have the honour to explain to you by what means it came into my possession.”
King William was a man of business, and Vanslyperken had done wisely in making this proposal. His majesty at once sat down, with the Duke of Portland on one side, and Lord Albemarle on the other: the latter took the letters, which were arranged according to their dates, and read them in a clear, distinct voice.
As the reading went on, his majesty made memorandums and notes with his pencil on a sheet of paper, but did not interrupt during the whole progress of the lecture. When the last and most important was finished, the two noblemen looked at his majesty, with countenances full of meaning. For a few moments, his majesty drummed with the second and third finger of his left hand upon the table, and then said—
“Pray, Mr Vanslyperken, how did you obtain possession of these papers and letters, or make copies of these letters?”
Vanslyperken, who had been standing at the other side of the table during the time of the reading, had anxiously watched the countenance of his majesty and the two noblemen, and perceived that the intelligence which the letters contained had created a strong feeling, as he expected. With a certain degree of confidence, he commenced his explanation.
He stated that the crew of the cutter had been accustomed to frequent the Lust Haus of a certain widow Vandersloosh, and that he had made her acquaintance, by several times going there to look after his seamen.
That this widow had often hinted to him, and at last proposed to him, that he should take letters for some friends of hers—at last she had told him plainly that it was for the Jacobite party, and he pretended, to consent.
That he had been taken by her to the house of a Jesuit, 169, in the Bur Street, nearly opposite to her Lust Haus, and that the Jesuit had given him some letters and fifty guineas for his trouble.
He then stated that he had opened, copied, and re-sealed them: further, that he had brought over one of the confederates, who was now residing in the house of the syndic, Van Krause. That he should have made all this known before, only that he waited till it was more important. That the last letters appeared of such consequence, that he deemed it his duty no longer to delay.
“You have done well, Mr Vanslyperken,” replied his majesty.
“And played a bold game,” observed Lord Albemarle, fixing his eyes upon Vanslyperken. “Suppose you had been found out co-operating with traitors, before you made this discovery?”
“I might have forfeited my life in my zeal,” replied Mr Vanslyperken, with adroitness; “but that is the duty of a king’s officer.”
“That is well said,” observed the Duke of Portland.
“I have a few questions to put to you, Mr Vanslyperken,” observed his majesty.
“What is the cave they mention so often?”
“It is on the bank of the Isle of Wight, your majesty. I did not know of its existence but from the letters—but I once laid a whole night in the cove underneath it, to intercept the smugglers, upon information that I had received; but the alarm was given, and they escaped.”
“Who is their agent at Portsmouth?”
“A Jew of the name of Lazarus, residing in Little Orange Street, at the back of the Point, your majesty.”
“Do you know any of the names of the conspirators?”
“I do not, your majesty, except a woman, who is very active one Moggy Salisbury—her husband, not a month back, was the boatswain of the cutter, but by some interest or another, he has obtained his discharge.”
“My Lord of Portland, take a memorandum to inquire who it was applied for the discharge of that man. Mr Vanslyperken, you may retire—we will call you in by-and-bye—you will be secret as to what has passed.”
“I have one more duty to perform,” replied Vanslyperken, taking some rouleaus of gold out of his pocket; “this is the money received from the traitors—it is not for a king’s officer to have it in his possession.”
“You are right, Mr Vanslyperken, but the gold of traitors is forfeited to the crown, and it is now mine; you will accept it as a present from your king.”
Mr Vanslyperken took the gold from the table, made a bow, and retired from the royal presence.
The reader will acknowledge that it was impossible to play his cards better than Mr Vanslyperken had done in this interview, and that he deserved great credit for his astute conduct. With such diplomatic talents, he would have made a great prime minister.
“The council was ordered at twelve o’clock, my lords. These letters must (be) produced. That they are genuine appears to me beyond a doubt.”
“That they are faithful copies, I doubt not,” replied Lord Albemarle, “but—”
“But what, my Lord Albemarle?”
“I very much suspect the fidelity of the copier—there is something more, that has not been told, depend upon it.”
“Why do you think so, my lord?”
“Because, your majesty, allowing that a man would act the part that Mr Vanslyperken says that he has done to discover the conspiracy, still, would he not naturally, to avoid any risk to himself, have furnished Government with the first correspondence, and obtained their sanction for prosecuting his plans? This officer has been employed for the last two years or more in carrying the despatches to the Hague, and it must at once strike your majesty, that a person who can, with such dexterity, open the letters of others, can also open those of his own Government.”
“That is true, my lord,” replied his majesty, musing.
“Your majesty is well aware that suspicions were entertained of the fidelity of the syndic, suspicions which the evidence of this officer have verified. But why were these suspicions raised? Because he knew of the Government secrets, and it was supposed he obtained them from some one who is in our trust, but inimical to us and unworthy of the confidence reposed in him.
“Your majesty’s acuteness will at once perceive that the secrets may have been obtained by Mynheer Krause by the same means as have been resorted to, to obtain the secrets of the conspirators. I may be in error, and if I do this officer wrong by my suspicions, may God forgive me, but there is something in his looks which tells me—”
“What, my lord?”
“That he is a traitor to both parties, may it please your majesty.”
“By the Lord, Albemarle, I think you have hit upon the truth,” replied the Duke of Portland.
“Of that we shall soon have proof—at present, we have to decide whether it be advisable to employ him to discover more, or at once seize upon the parties he has denounced. But that had better be canvassed in the council-chamber. Come, my lords, they be waiting for us.”
The affair was of too great importance not to absorb all other business, and it was decided that the house of Mynheer Krause, and of the Jesuit, and the widow Vandersloosh should be entered by the peace-officers, at midnight, and that they and any of the conspirators who might be found should be thrown into prison. That the cutter should be dispatched immediately to England, with orders to seize all the other parties informed against by Vanslyperken, and that a force should be sent to attack the cave, and secure those who might be found there, with directions to the admiral, that Mr Vanslyperken should be employed both as a guide, and to give the assistance of the cutter and his crew.
These arrangements having been made, the council broke up, King William had a conference with his two favourites, and Vanslyperken was sent for.
“Lieutenant Vanslyperken, we feel much indebted to you for your important communications, and we shall not forget, in due time, to reward your zeal and loyalty as it deserves. At present, it is necessary that you sail for England as soon as our despatches are ready, which will be before midnight; you will then receive your orders from the admiral, at Portsmouth, and I have no doubt you will take the opportunity of affording us fresh proofs of your fidelity and attachment.”
Mr Vanslyperken bowed humbly and retired, delighted with the successful result of his manoeuvre, and with a gay heart he leaped into his calash, and drove off.
“Yes, yes,” thought he, “Madam Vandersloosh, you would betray me. We shall see. Yes, yes, we shall see, Madam Vandersloosh.”
And sure enough he did see Madam Vandersloosh, who in another calash was driving to the palace, and who met him face to face.
Vanslyperken turned up his nose at her as he passed by, and the widow, astonished at his presumption, thought, as she went on her way, “Well, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see: you may turn up your snivelling nose, but stop till your head’s in the halter—yes, Mr Vanslyperken, stop till your head’s in the halter.”
We must leave Mr Vanslyperken to drive, and the widow Vandersloosh to drive, while we drive on ourselves. The subsequent events of this eventful day we will narrate in the following chapter.
Chapter Forty Six.In which there is much Bustle and Confusion, Plot and Counter-Plot.About two hours after the council had broken up, the following communication was delivered into the hands of Ramsay by an old woman, who immediately took her departure.“The lieutenant of the cutter has taken copies of all your correspondence, and betrayed you. You must fly immediately, as at midnight you and all of you will be seized. In justice to Mynheer Krause, leave documents to clear him.“The cutter will sail this evening—with orders to secure your friends at Portsmouth and the cave.”“Now, by the holy cross of our Saviour! I will have revenge upon that dastard; there is no time to lose; five minutes for reflection, and then to act,” thought Ramsay, as he twisted up this timely notice, which, it must be evident to the reader, must have been sent by one who had been summoned to the council. Ramsay’s plans were soon formed; he dispatched a trusty messenger to the Jesuit’s, desiring him to communicate immediately with the others, and upon what plan to proceed. He then wrote a note to Vanslyperken, requesting his immediate presence, and hastened to the morning apartment of Wilhelmina. In a few words, he told her that he had received timely notice that it was the intention of the Government to seize her father and him as suspected traitors, and throw them that very night into prison.Wilhelmina made no reply.“For your father, my dearest girl, there is no fear: he will be fully acquitted; but I, Wilhelmina, must part immediately, or my life is forfeited.”“Leave me, Edward?” replied Wilhelmina.“No, you must go with me, Wilhelmina, for more than one reason; the Government have ordered the seizure of the persons to be made in the night, to avoid a disturbance; but that they will not be able to prevent; the mob are but too happy to prove their loyalty, when they can do so by rapine and plunder, and depend upon it that this house will be sacked and levelled to the ground before to-morrow evening. You cannot go to prison with your father; you cannot remain here, to be at the mercy of an infuriated and lawless mob. You must go with me, Wilhelmina: trust to me, not only for my sake, but for your father’s.”“My father’s, Edward, it is that only I am thinking of; how can I leave my father at such a time?”“You will save your father by so doing. Your departure with me will substantiate his innocence; decide, my dearest girl! decide at once; you must either fly with me, or we must part for ever.”“Oh no, that must not be, Edward,” cried Wilhelmina, bursting into tears.After some further persuasions on the part of Ramsay, and fresh tears from the attached maiden, it was agreed that she should act upon his suggestions, and with a throbbing heart she went to her chamber to make the necessary preparations, while Ramsay requested Mynheer Krause would give him a few minutes of his company in his room above.The syndic soon made his appearance. “Well, Mynheer Ramsay, you have some news to tell me, I am sure:” for Mynheer Krause, notwithstanding his rebuff from the king, could not divest himself of his failing of fetching and carrying reports. Ramsay went to the door and turned the key.“I have, indeed, most important news, Mynheer Krause, and, I am sorry to say, very unpleasant also.”“Indeed,” replied the syndic, with alarm.“Yes; I find from a notice given me by one of his majesty’s council, assembled this morning at the Hague, that you are suspected of treasonable practices.”“God in heaven!” exclaimed the syndic.“And that this very night you are to be seized and thrown into prison!”“I, the syndic of the town! I, who put everybody else into prison!”“Even so; such is the gratitude of King William for your long and faithful services, Mynheer Krause! I have now sent for you that we may consult as to what had best be done. Will you fly? I have the means for your escape.”“Fly, Mynheer Ramsay? the syndic of Amsterdam fly? Never! they may accuse me falsely; they may condemn me and take off my head before the Stadt House, but I will not fly.”“I expected this answer; and you are right, Mynheer Krause; but there are other considerations worthy of your attention. When the populace know that you are in prison for treason, they will level this house to the ground.”“Well and so they ought, if they suppose me guilty; I care little for that.”“I am aware of that; but still your property will be lost; it will be but a matter of prudence to save all you can: you have already a large sum of gold collected.”“I have four thousand guilders, at least.”“You must think of your daughter, Mynheer Krause. This gold must not find its way into the pockets of the mob. Now, observe, the king’s cutter sails to-night, and I propose that your gold be embarked, and I will take it over for you and keep it safe. Then, let what will happen, your daughter will not be left to beggary.”“True, true, my dear sir, there is no saying how this will end: it may end well; but, as you say, if the house is plundered, the gold is gone for ever. Your advice is good, and I will give you, before you go, orders for all the monies in the hands of my agents at Hamburgh and Frankfort and other places. I have taken your advice, my young friend, and, though I have property to the amount of some hundred thousand guilders, with the exception of this house, they will hold little of it which belongs to Mynheer Krause. And my poor daughter, Mynheer Ramsay?”“Should any accident happen to you, you may trust to me, I swear it to you, Mynheer Krause, on my hope of salvation.”Here the old man sat down much affected, and covered his face.“Oh! my dear young friend, what a world is this! where they cannot distinguish a true and a loyal subject from a traitor. But why could you not stay here,—protect my house from the mob,—demand the civic guard?”“I stay here, my dear sir! why, I am included in the warrant of treason.”“You?”“Yes; and there would be no chance of my escaping from my enemies; they detest me too much. But cheer up, sir, I think that, by my means, you may be cleared of all suspicions.”“By your means?”“Yes; but I must not explain; my departure is necessary for your safety; I will take the whole upon myself, and you shall be saved.”“I really cannot understand you, my dear friend; but it appears to me as if you were going to make some great sacrifice for my sake.”“I will not be questioned, Mynheer Krause; only this I say, that I am resolved that you shall be proved innocent. It is my duty. But we have no time to lose. Let your gold be ready at sunset: I will have everything prepared.”“But my daughter must not remain here; she will be by herself at the mercy of the mob.”“Be satisfied, Mynheer Krause, that is also cared for; your daughter must leave this house, and be in a safe retreat before the officers come in to seize you: I have arranged everything.”“Where do you propose sending her?”“Not to any of your friends’ houses, Mynheer Krause; no—no, but I’ll see her in safety before I leave, do not be afraid; it must depend upon circumstances: but of that hereafter; you have no time to lose.”“God in heaven!” exclaimed Mynheer Krause, unlocking the door, “that I, the syndic, the most loyal subject!—well, well, you may truly say, ‘put not your trust in princes.’”“Trust in me, Mynheer Krause,” replied Ramsay, taking his hand.“I do, I will, my good friend, and I will go to prison proudly, and like an innocent and injured man.”And Mynheer Krause hastened down to his counting-house, to make the proposed arrangements, Ramsay returning to Wilhelmina, to whom he imparted what had taken place between him and her father, and which had the effect of confirming her resolution.We must now return to the widow Vandersloosh, who has arrived safely, but melting with the heat of her journey, at the Palace of the Hague. She immediately informed one of the domestics that she wished to speak with his majesty upon important business.“I cannot take your name in to his majesty, but if you will give it me, I will speak to Lord Albemarle.”The widow wrote her name down upon a slip of paper, with which the servant went away, and then the widow sat down upon a bench in the hall, and cooled herself with her fan.“Frau Vandersloosh,” said Lord Albemarle, on reading the name.“Let her come up. Why this,” continued, he, turning to the Duke of. Portland, who was sitting by him, “is the woman who is ordered to be arrested this night, upon the evidence of Lieutenant Vanslyperken; we shall learn something now, depend upon it.”The Frau Vandersloosh made her appearance, sailing into the room like a Dutch man-of-war of that period, under full sail, high-pooped and broad-sterned. Never having stood in the presence of great men, she was not a little confused, so she fanned herself most furiously.“You wish to speak with me?” said Lord Albemarle.“Yes, your honour’s honour, I’ve come to expose a snivelling traitor to his majesty’s crown. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see now,” continued the widow, talking to herself, and fanning away.“We are all attentive, madam.”Mistress Vandersloosh then began, out of breath, and continued out of breath till she had told the whole of her story, which, as the reader must be aware, only corroborated all Vanslyperken had already stated, with the exception that he had denounced the widow. Lord Albemarle allowed her to proceed without interruption; he had a great insight into character, and the story of the widow confirmed him in his opinion of Vanslyperken.“But, my good woman,” said Lord Albemarle, “are you aware that Mr Vanslyperken has already been here?”“Yes, your honour, I met him going back, and he turned his nose up at me, and then I said, ‘Well, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see; wait a little, Mr Vanslyperken.’”“And,” continued Lord Albemarle, “that he has denounced you as being a party to all these treasonable practices?”“Me—denounced me—he—O Lord, O Lord, only let me meet him face to face—let him say it then, if he dares, the snivelling—cowardly—murdering wretch.”Thereupon Mrs Vandersloosh commenced the history of Vanslyperken’s wooing, of his cur Snarleyyow, of her fancy for the corporal, of his finding her with the corporal the day before, of her beating him off with the brooms, and of her threats to expose his treason. “And so, now, when he finds that he was to be exposed, he comes up first himself; that’s now the truth of it, or my name’s not Vandersloosh, your honour;” and the widow walked up and down with the march of an elephant, fanning herself violently, her bosom heaving with agitation, and her face as red as a boiled lobster.“Mistress Vandersloosh,” said Lord Albemarle, “let the affair rest as it is for the present, but I shall not forget what you have told me. I think now that you had better go home.”At this dismissal the widow turned round.“Thank your worship kindly,” said she, “I’m ready to come whenever I’m wanted. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken,” resumed the widow, as she walked to the door, quite forgetting the respect due to the two noblemen, “we shall see; yes, yes, we shall see.”“Well, my lord, what think you of this?” said Lord Albemarle to the duke, as the widow closed the door.“Upon my soul I think she is honest; she is too fat for a traitor.”“I am of your opinion. The episode of the corporal was delightful, and has thrown much light upon the lieutenant’s conduct, who is a traitor in my opinion, if ever there was one; but he must be allowed to fulfil his task, and then we will soon find out the traitor; but if I mistake not, that man was born to be hung.”We must now return to Mr Vanslyperken, who received the note from Ramsay, just as he was going down to the boat. As he did not know what steps were to be taken by Government, he determined to go up to Ramsay, and inform him of his order for immediately sailing.He might gain further information from his letters, and also remove the suspicion of his having betrayed him. Ramsay received Mr Vanslyperken with an air of confidence.“Sit down, Mr Vanslyperken, I wish to know whether there is any chance of your sailing.”“I was about to come up to you to state that I have orders to sail this evening.”“That is fortunate, as I intended to take a passage with you, and what is more, Mr Vanslyperken, I have a large sum in specie, which we must contrive to get on board. Cannot we contrive it? I cannot go without it.”“A large sum in specie!” Vanslyperken reflected. Yes, he would secure Ramsay as a prisoner, and possess himself of the specie if he could. His entrapping Ramsay on board would be another proof of his fidelity and dexterity. But then Vanslyperken thought of the defection of the corporal; but that was of no great consequence. The crew of the cutter dare not disobey him, when they were ordered to seize a traitor.While Vanslyperken was meditating this, Ramsay fixed his eyes upon him, waiting for his reply.“It will be difficult,” observed Vanslyperken, “to get the specie on board without being seen.”“I’m afraid so too; but I have a proposition to make. Suppose you get under way, and heave-to a mile outside, I will then come off in the syndic’s barge. I can have the use of it. Then nothing will be discovered.”Vanslyperken appeared to reflect again.“I shall still run a great risk, Mr Ramsay.”“You will run some little, perhaps, but you will be well paid for it, I promise you.”“Well, sir, I consent,” replied Vanslyperken. “At what hour do you propose to embark?”“About eleven, or a little earlier. You will have a light over the stern; hail the boat when you see it coming, and I shall answer, ‘King’s messenger, with despatches;’ that will be a blind to your crew—they supposed me a king’s messenger before.”“Yes, that will be prudent,” replied Vanslyperken, who then took his leave with great apparent cordiality.“Villain!” muttered Ramsay, as Vanslyperken shut the door, “I know your thoughts.”We must pass over the remainder of this eventful day. Wilhelmina had procured the dress of a boy, in which disguise she proposed to elope with Ramsay, and all her preparations were made long before the time. Mynheer Krause was also occupied in getting his specie ready for embarkation, and Ramsay in writing letters. The despatches from the Hague came down about nine o’clock, and Vanslyperken received them on board. About ten he weighed and made sail, and hove-to about a mile outside, with a light shown as agreed. About the time arranged, a large boat appeared pulling up to the cutter, “Boat, a-hoy!”“King’s messenger with despatches,” was the reply.“All’s right,” said Vanslyperken; “get a rope there, from forward.”The boat darted alongside of the cutter. She pulled ten oars; but, as soon as she was alongside, a number of armed men sprang from her on the decks, and beat the crew below, while Ramsay, with pistols in his belt, and his sword in his hand, went aft to Vanslyperken.“What is all this?” exclaimed the terrified lieutenant.“Nothing, sir, but common prudence on my part,” replied Ramsay. “I have an account to settle with you.”Vanslyperken perceived that his treachery was discovered, and he fell upon his knees. Ramsay turned away to give orders, and Vanslyperken darted down the hatchway, and gained the lower deck.“Never mind,” said Ramsay, “he’ll not escape me; come, my lads, hand up the boxes as fast as you can.”Ramsay then went to the boat, and brought up Wilhelmina, who had remained there, and conducted her down into the cabin. The boxes were also handed down, the boat made fast, and the conspirators remained in possession of the deck. The helm was taken by one of them; sail again made on the cutter, and the boat with a boat-keeper towed astern.
About two hours after the council had broken up, the following communication was delivered into the hands of Ramsay by an old woman, who immediately took her departure.
“The lieutenant of the cutter has taken copies of all your correspondence, and betrayed you. You must fly immediately, as at midnight you and all of you will be seized. In justice to Mynheer Krause, leave documents to clear him.
“The cutter will sail this evening—with orders to secure your friends at Portsmouth and the cave.”
“Now, by the holy cross of our Saviour! I will have revenge upon that dastard; there is no time to lose; five minutes for reflection, and then to act,” thought Ramsay, as he twisted up this timely notice, which, it must be evident to the reader, must have been sent by one who had been summoned to the council. Ramsay’s plans were soon formed; he dispatched a trusty messenger to the Jesuit’s, desiring him to communicate immediately with the others, and upon what plan to proceed. He then wrote a note to Vanslyperken, requesting his immediate presence, and hastened to the morning apartment of Wilhelmina. In a few words, he told her that he had received timely notice that it was the intention of the Government to seize her father and him as suspected traitors, and throw them that very night into prison.
Wilhelmina made no reply.
“For your father, my dearest girl, there is no fear: he will be fully acquitted; but I, Wilhelmina, must part immediately, or my life is forfeited.”
“Leave me, Edward?” replied Wilhelmina.
“No, you must go with me, Wilhelmina, for more than one reason; the Government have ordered the seizure of the persons to be made in the night, to avoid a disturbance; but that they will not be able to prevent; the mob are but too happy to prove their loyalty, when they can do so by rapine and plunder, and depend upon it that this house will be sacked and levelled to the ground before to-morrow evening. You cannot go to prison with your father; you cannot remain here, to be at the mercy of an infuriated and lawless mob. You must go with me, Wilhelmina: trust to me, not only for my sake, but for your father’s.”
“My father’s, Edward, it is that only I am thinking of; how can I leave my father at such a time?”
“You will save your father by so doing. Your departure with me will substantiate his innocence; decide, my dearest girl! decide at once; you must either fly with me, or we must part for ever.”
“Oh no, that must not be, Edward,” cried Wilhelmina, bursting into tears.
After some further persuasions on the part of Ramsay, and fresh tears from the attached maiden, it was agreed that she should act upon his suggestions, and with a throbbing heart she went to her chamber to make the necessary preparations, while Ramsay requested Mynheer Krause would give him a few minutes of his company in his room above.
The syndic soon made his appearance. “Well, Mynheer Ramsay, you have some news to tell me, I am sure:” for Mynheer Krause, notwithstanding his rebuff from the king, could not divest himself of his failing of fetching and carrying reports. Ramsay went to the door and turned the key.
“I have, indeed, most important news, Mynheer Krause, and, I am sorry to say, very unpleasant also.”
“Indeed,” replied the syndic, with alarm.
“Yes; I find from a notice given me by one of his majesty’s council, assembled this morning at the Hague, that you are suspected of treasonable practices.”
“God in heaven!” exclaimed the syndic.
“And that this very night you are to be seized and thrown into prison!”
“I, the syndic of the town! I, who put everybody else into prison!”
“Even so; such is the gratitude of King William for your long and faithful services, Mynheer Krause! I have now sent for you that we may consult as to what had best be done. Will you fly? I have the means for your escape.”
“Fly, Mynheer Ramsay? the syndic of Amsterdam fly? Never! they may accuse me falsely; they may condemn me and take off my head before the Stadt House, but I will not fly.”
“I expected this answer; and you are right, Mynheer Krause; but there are other considerations worthy of your attention. When the populace know that you are in prison for treason, they will level this house to the ground.”
“Well and so they ought, if they suppose me guilty; I care little for that.”
“I am aware of that; but still your property will be lost; it will be but a matter of prudence to save all you can: you have already a large sum of gold collected.”
“I have four thousand guilders, at least.”
“You must think of your daughter, Mynheer Krause. This gold must not find its way into the pockets of the mob. Now, observe, the king’s cutter sails to-night, and I propose that your gold be embarked, and I will take it over for you and keep it safe. Then, let what will happen, your daughter will not be left to beggary.”
“True, true, my dear sir, there is no saying how this will end: it may end well; but, as you say, if the house is plundered, the gold is gone for ever. Your advice is good, and I will give you, before you go, orders for all the monies in the hands of my agents at Hamburgh and Frankfort and other places. I have taken your advice, my young friend, and, though I have property to the amount of some hundred thousand guilders, with the exception of this house, they will hold little of it which belongs to Mynheer Krause. And my poor daughter, Mynheer Ramsay?”
“Should any accident happen to you, you may trust to me, I swear it to you, Mynheer Krause, on my hope of salvation.”
Here the old man sat down much affected, and covered his face.
“Oh! my dear young friend, what a world is this! where they cannot distinguish a true and a loyal subject from a traitor. But why could you not stay here,—protect my house from the mob,—demand the civic guard?”
“I stay here, my dear sir! why, I am included in the warrant of treason.”
“You?”
“Yes; and there would be no chance of my escaping from my enemies; they detest me too much. But cheer up, sir, I think that, by my means, you may be cleared of all suspicions.”
“By your means?”
“Yes; but I must not explain; my departure is necessary for your safety; I will take the whole upon myself, and you shall be saved.”
“I really cannot understand you, my dear friend; but it appears to me as if you were going to make some great sacrifice for my sake.”
“I will not be questioned, Mynheer Krause; only this I say, that I am resolved that you shall be proved innocent. It is my duty. But we have no time to lose. Let your gold be ready at sunset: I will have everything prepared.”
“But my daughter must not remain here; she will be by herself at the mercy of the mob.”
“Be satisfied, Mynheer Krause, that is also cared for; your daughter must leave this house, and be in a safe retreat before the officers come in to seize you: I have arranged everything.”
“Where do you propose sending her?”
“Not to any of your friends’ houses, Mynheer Krause; no—no, but I’ll see her in safety before I leave, do not be afraid; it must depend upon circumstances: but of that hereafter; you have no time to lose.”
“God in heaven!” exclaimed Mynheer Krause, unlocking the door, “that I, the syndic, the most loyal subject!—well, well, you may truly say, ‘put not your trust in princes.’”
“Trust in me, Mynheer Krause,” replied Ramsay, taking his hand.
“I do, I will, my good friend, and I will go to prison proudly, and like an innocent and injured man.”
And Mynheer Krause hastened down to his counting-house, to make the proposed arrangements, Ramsay returning to Wilhelmina, to whom he imparted what had taken place between him and her father, and which had the effect of confirming her resolution.
We must now return to the widow Vandersloosh, who has arrived safely, but melting with the heat of her journey, at the Palace of the Hague. She immediately informed one of the domestics that she wished to speak with his majesty upon important business.
“I cannot take your name in to his majesty, but if you will give it me, I will speak to Lord Albemarle.”
The widow wrote her name down upon a slip of paper, with which the servant went away, and then the widow sat down upon a bench in the hall, and cooled herself with her fan.
“Frau Vandersloosh,” said Lord Albemarle, on reading the name.
“Let her come up. Why this,” continued, he, turning to the Duke of. Portland, who was sitting by him, “is the woman who is ordered to be arrested this night, upon the evidence of Lieutenant Vanslyperken; we shall learn something now, depend upon it.”
The Frau Vandersloosh made her appearance, sailing into the room like a Dutch man-of-war of that period, under full sail, high-pooped and broad-sterned. Never having stood in the presence of great men, she was not a little confused, so she fanned herself most furiously.
“You wish to speak with me?” said Lord Albemarle.
“Yes, your honour’s honour, I’ve come to expose a snivelling traitor to his majesty’s crown. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see now,” continued the widow, talking to herself, and fanning away.
“We are all attentive, madam.”
Mistress Vandersloosh then began, out of breath, and continued out of breath till she had told the whole of her story, which, as the reader must be aware, only corroborated all Vanslyperken had already stated, with the exception that he had denounced the widow. Lord Albemarle allowed her to proceed without interruption; he had a great insight into character, and the story of the widow confirmed him in his opinion of Vanslyperken.
“But, my good woman,” said Lord Albemarle, “are you aware that Mr Vanslyperken has already been here?”
“Yes, your honour, I met him going back, and he turned his nose up at me, and then I said, ‘Well, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see; wait a little, Mr Vanslyperken.’”
“And,” continued Lord Albemarle, “that he has denounced you as being a party to all these treasonable practices?”
“Me—denounced me—he—O Lord, O Lord, only let me meet him face to face—let him say it then, if he dares, the snivelling—cowardly—murdering wretch.”
Thereupon Mrs Vandersloosh commenced the history of Vanslyperken’s wooing, of his cur Snarleyyow, of her fancy for the corporal, of his finding her with the corporal the day before, of her beating him off with the brooms, and of her threats to expose his treason. “And so, now, when he finds that he was to be exposed, he comes up first himself; that’s now the truth of it, or my name’s not Vandersloosh, your honour;” and the widow walked up and down with the march of an elephant, fanning herself violently, her bosom heaving with agitation, and her face as red as a boiled lobster.
“Mistress Vandersloosh,” said Lord Albemarle, “let the affair rest as it is for the present, but I shall not forget what you have told me. I think now that you had better go home.”
At this dismissal the widow turned round.
“Thank your worship kindly,” said she, “I’m ready to come whenever I’m wanted. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken,” resumed the widow, as she walked to the door, quite forgetting the respect due to the two noblemen, “we shall see; yes, yes, we shall see.”
“Well, my lord, what think you of this?” said Lord Albemarle to the duke, as the widow closed the door.
“Upon my soul I think she is honest; she is too fat for a traitor.”
“I am of your opinion. The episode of the corporal was delightful, and has thrown much light upon the lieutenant’s conduct, who is a traitor in my opinion, if ever there was one; but he must be allowed to fulfil his task, and then we will soon find out the traitor; but if I mistake not, that man was born to be hung.”
We must now return to Mr Vanslyperken, who received the note from Ramsay, just as he was going down to the boat. As he did not know what steps were to be taken by Government, he determined to go up to Ramsay, and inform him of his order for immediately sailing.
He might gain further information from his letters, and also remove the suspicion of his having betrayed him. Ramsay received Mr Vanslyperken with an air of confidence.
“Sit down, Mr Vanslyperken, I wish to know whether there is any chance of your sailing.”
“I was about to come up to you to state that I have orders to sail this evening.”
“That is fortunate, as I intended to take a passage with you, and what is more, Mr Vanslyperken, I have a large sum in specie, which we must contrive to get on board. Cannot we contrive it? I cannot go without it.”
“A large sum in specie!” Vanslyperken reflected. Yes, he would secure Ramsay as a prisoner, and possess himself of the specie if he could. His entrapping Ramsay on board would be another proof of his fidelity and dexterity. But then Vanslyperken thought of the defection of the corporal; but that was of no great consequence. The crew of the cutter dare not disobey him, when they were ordered to seize a traitor.
While Vanslyperken was meditating this, Ramsay fixed his eyes upon him, waiting for his reply.
“It will be difficult,” observed Vanslyperken, “to get the specie on board without being seen.”
“I’m afraid so too; but I have a proposition to make. Suppose you get under way, and heave-to a mile outside, I will then come off in the syndic’s barge. I can have the use of it. Then nothing will be discovered.”
Vanslyperken appeared to reflect again.
“I shall still run a great risk, Mr Ramsay.”
“You will run some little, perhaps, but you will be well paid for it, I promise you.”
“Well, sir, I consent,” replied Vanslyperken. “At what hour do you propose to embark?”
“About eleven, or a little earlier. You will have a light over the stern; hail the boat when you see it coming, and I shall answer, ‘King’s messenger, with despatches;’ that will be a blind to your crew—they supposed me a king’s messenger before.”
“Yes, that will be prudent,” replied Vanslyperken, who then took his leave with great apparent cordiality.
“Villain!” muttered Ramsay, as Vanslyperken shut the door, “I know your thoughts.”
We must pass over the remainder of this eventful day. Wilhelmina had procured the dress of a boy, in which disguise she proposed to elope with Ramsay, and all her preparations were made long before the time. Mynheer Krause was also occupied in getting his specie ready for embarkation, and Ramsay in writing letters. The despatches from the Hague came down about nine o’clock, and Vanslyperken received them on board. About ten he weighed and made sail, and hove-to about a mile outside, with a light shown as agreed. About the time arranged, a large boat appeared pulling up to the cutter, “Boat, a-hoy!”
“King’s messenger with despatches,” was the reply.
“All’s right,” said Vanslyperken; “get a rope there, from forward.”
The boat darted alongside of the cutter. She pulled ten oars; but, as soon as she was alongside, a number of armed men sprang from her on the decks, and beat the crew below, while Ramsay, with pistols in his belt, and his sword in his hand, went aft to Vanslyperken.
“What is all this?” exclaimed the terrified lieutenant.
“Nothing, sir, but common prudence on my part,” replied Ramsay. “I have an account to settle with you.”
Vanslyperken perceived that his treachery was discovered, and he fell upon his knees. Ramsay turned away to give orders, and Vanslyperken darted down the hatchway, and gained the lower deck.
“Never mind,” said Ramsay, “he’ll not escape me; come, my lads, hand up the boxes as fast as you can.”
Ramsay then went to the boat, and brought up Wilhelmina, who had remained there, and conducted her down into the cabin. The boxes were also handed down, the boat made fast, and the conspirators remained in possession of the deck. The helm was taken by one of them; sail again made on the cutter, and the boat with a boat-keeper towed astern.