Now that the reader may feel himself upon sure ground as to the facts of this true story, I may state that Roland likewise learnt from Nancy that the gang had a rendezvous in a piece of dense wood known as Brook's Bush, close to the mouth of the Don River. It is also a fact that when the den at Markham was broken up finally, some of the surviving desperadoes took up their permanent abode at Brook's Bush, where they kept an illicit still. Down to fifteen years after the date of my story the community was every now and again startled by tidings of robbery, outrage or murder at the Don; and the last notable act of the gang was the murder of the editor of theColonist, one Hogan, a member of the legislature. His taking off was done by a woman who struck him upon the head with a stone which she carried in a stocking. [Footnote: Scores of persons living in Toronto now remember this outrage; but anybody can verify the fact by turning to the files of the newspapers of those days.—THE AUTHOR.] The body was then thrown into the Don where it was picked up a short time afterwards.
As for the people of Markham, they lived in constant terror of the miscreants lodged in the bush so near their doors; and they established an efficient staff of special constables for the protection of life and property.
Markham township had been settled about forty-five years before, principally by a number of Dutch families which moved thither from Pennsylvania; but to the rather picturesque little village of the same name, nestling among the pines that fringed the River Rouge, came straggling immigrants or persons grown tired of the solitude and the privations of backwoods life. But to distant portions of the province this thriving village came to be known rather through the terrible reputation of the adjacent swamp than through the thrift, comfort and progress of the people. So much then for the 'dry' but essential facts of this narrative.
On the following morning the chief and Murfrey went away again; and in obedience to the command of the hag our hero, accompanied by The Lifter, who had instructions to shoot him if he attempted to escape, proceeded to a portion of the bush not far distant to cut firewood. Although he had 'roughed it' for many a season in the woods, Roland was clumsy enough at the regular work of woodcutting. But taking off his coat he began bravely, and The Lifter swung his axe with a will a short way distant. After they had cut what would make about a horse load, they carried the billets upon their shoulders and threw them into a hole about thirty paces distant from that by which they descended to the subterranean abode. The pieces struck with a dull sound a considerable distance down; and The Lifter informed Roland that 'down there' was the wood-shed.
'But I suppose you are curious to hear sometheen about this underground place? All strangers are.'
'I am certainly much interested in it. I cannot conceive how your gang could have hollowed so large a place as this seems to me. Why, it has been an enormous task, requiring I should say a hundred men for many months to perform.
'Our "gang" did not make this hollow. But if you'll excuse me, I do not like the way you have of styleen our party. "Gang" isn't a nice word.'
'Who did the excavation then?'
'God,' replied The Lifter, with an assumption of solemnity that really was comic.
'Pray cease this blasphemy. I do not wish to hear any more of it. I am over-sick of this hypocrisy now.'
'But God it was all the same who did this; and I shall tell you how. You know that River Rouge did not always enter Silent Lake at the place where it runs in now. It entered down there; see where that old beech tree stands.'
'But this makes the matter no clearer.'
'Well, you know, the ground here is very shaky, and the swamp beneath the shores of the trees is softer than porridge. A long time ago, during a heavy spring freshet, the river became dammed about a quarter of a mile from the lake, and the whole body of water was turned in another direction. But instead of flowing over the land, it sank into the great mass of soft bog below, and forced its way underground, till it reached the lake—there by that old beech.'
'The clay into which the roots of the trees had fastened themselves was quite solid, and was held fast in the thick tangle of roots. So for many years you could hear the river floween beneath the ground with a subdued gurgleen sound. Hunters avoided the wood, for some careless persons had come here and fallen through the holes into the rusheen tide. Their bodies were afterwards found floateen in Silent Lake. One day my grandfather and two of his men came to see the treacherous underground river; and they moved cautiously down the stream till they came where it sank into a hole in the ground, that looked like a huge sluice-way.
'My grandfather looked at the strange sight for a time, and then at the great bridge of trees and boulders that lay across the original course of the river. They wondered why he gazed at all so earnestly; and why his eyes grew so bright. Then he slapped the capteen, who was yet a boy, upon the back, and said:
'"Just the very place we want. Here we will have a quiet castle of our own, where no limb of the law can find us."'
'"But you surely would not think of liveen in this dismal swamp?" they all said at once.
'"My intensheen is notheen else," he replied. "Let us go away for the present." Then they all left the wood, the young men wondereen what my grandfather had in his head. A few days after this, my grandfather and all his friends came with picks, and axes, and crowbars into the swamp. No one knew yet what plan he had formed. Leadeen them to the bridge that I have described, he said:
'"I want that bridge cut away."
'"Why?" they all asked.
'"Can you tell," he replied, "what will happen when this bridge is cut away?" Then they fell athinkeen and my father said:
'"The stream will go by the old bed, and will run no longer under the ground." "Ah, father," the capteen shouted, "you are the wise one after all. We will have a first-rate castle under the forest in the stream's tunnel!"
'"Exactly, my son."' It was all quite clear to our hero now. For a full quarter of a mile did this tunnel, covered over with shallow turf, or a treacherous stretch of moss, extend.
'Well,' continued The Lifter, 'they waited till the tunnel became dry, and then they made a house and sleeping places underneath. The whole length of the tunnel was tested, and wherever they intended the roof should be strong, they propped it up; and those strong places they used as bridges.'
'Ah; it is plain now what the chief meant about all the unfortunate men who dropped through the swamp, and were never heard of more.'
'So he has been telleen about these. Yes; they came tumbleen down through the holes as they crossed, and they fell so sudden that they had no time to cry; and before they could know where they had got, we come along and killed 'em. In the night they were dragged out and put in the lake. I remember how tired myself and Silent Poll were with the heavy draggen. Then it was so hard to get stones that were heavy enough to keep the body under; and that you could tie easily.' While the toil of carrying the wood went on, The Lifter continued to describe many deeds of horror committed in the dark pit. In the afternoon, Nancy joined the two, and they examined the mouth of the passage-way. But the casual eye would not have looked twice at the spot, for young trees were so planted at the edge of the lake, that their boughs thoroughly screened the opening. She informed our hero that the other end was filled in, and trees were growing where once the flood rushed down with the speed of a mill-race. The greater part of the autumn was spent in cutting and carrying firewood, and the chopping continued till the hag one day announced that there was 'plenty in now till next summer.'
'Be on the look out now for the treachery of the old woman and Silent Poll,' Nancy said when the chopping was ended. You can be of little more use now, and I am satisfied that you are marked for vengeance. I suppose you carry your pistols?'
'Invariably.'
'And your knife?'
'Likewise.'
'It is well.'
When not fishing or doing laborious work, it was customary with The Lifter, as well as with our hero, to sit among the women and assist them in such offices as the peeling of turnips or potatoes; and holding the yarn skein whilst one of the women rolled the thread into a ball; or in scouring the knives and forks. One afternoon while all the men save The Lifter were absent, the group was seated round a small open fire. Hanging from the crane was a pot of fruit which the hag was boiling.
'Here Poll, ball your yarn,' the old woman said. 'You will hold the skein for her,' pointing to Roland. 'You may read a chapter fromDick Turpin,' turning to The Lifter. 'We will not want you, Nancy. Take a turn up stream and try to get a few fish for supper. There, make haste now; don't stand there, you lazy jade.' Nancy, for some reason or another, had fastened her eyes upon our hero, and there was a pleading, frightened look in them.
Roland vaguely understood that she was warning him, but against what particular form of danger he could not define. Resolved to reassure her, he nodded his head in a meaning way, and said:
'Off you go, Nancy, and get the fish. We'lltake careof ourselves till you come back.' He laid emphasis upon the 'take care,' and somewhat at ease, Nancy departed.
As I have said, the old woman was standing at the pot, and silent Poll had so arranged the seats that while Roland held the skein upon his hands his back was towards her mother. The Lifter sat side-wise, and began to readDick Turpin. For many minutes the reading and the stirring went on; when suddenly Roland noticed that the dull scraping of the 'slice' against the bottom of the pot had ceased. Turning his head he met the eyes of the old woman; and observed that they were aflame with a wild sort of light.
'When I hears a chapter from that ere book it makes my blood get warm, and I thinks I am a young woman again. Attend to your holding, young man. You see the thread is slipping off your hands.' Roland did as he was bidden, but he could not help thinking of the marvellous effect that the story of Turpin's dare-devil deeds had upon her. 'A fit mother for highwaymen,' he muttered, meditating. At that moment The Lifter, who happened to raise his eye from the page, cried out:
'Look out, Roland!' Quick as thought our hero sprang to his feet, but in doing so received a terrible blow on the shoulder. Instantly he saw that The Lifter's warning had saved his life; and that the blow which he had received upon the shoulder was aimed at his head. The hag stood before him with a short iron bar, used as a fire poker, in her hand; and her eyes blazed with a hate that was devilish to look upon. She approached him again with the bar uplifted, believing that he was stunned and disabled; but thrusting his hand into his pocket he drew his pistol and cocked it.
'Advance a step, you infamous old murderess, and your brains strew the ground.' She was foiled and let drop her weapon. But for the hell of rage that stormed within her she must have some outlet.
'Ah,' she screamed,' so you have turned traitor to your own;' and launching the bar at The Lifter's head, she knocked him insensible to the ground. The unfortunate wretch lay where he fell, without making a move, and Roland perceived that the blood welled from a wound in his head.
'So you warned him, did you?' she screamed again, and stooping she picked up the bar and raised it above his head. Roland well understood the murder in the old miscreant's eyes, and leaping forward seized the weapon, wrenched it from her grasp, and flung it far into the bush.
'Touch him not, or your miserable life will be the forfeit.' She made no reply, but simply scowled with the hatred of a fiend upon him. Turning then she resumed her work of stirring the fruit in the pot. At this moment Nancy, whose face was white with anxiety, made her appearance.
'Fetch some water from the spring,' Roland said, 'I wish to attend to his wound,' pointing to the prostrate Lifter.
'How has this happened?' Nancy enquired, in an anxious voice; though she was thoroughly familiar with such scenes of violence.
'This old monster here was aiming a death-blow at my head, and he warned me. This is her revenge; and she would have finished her work upon him had I not interfered. Don't go for an instant, Nancy, till I complete what I have to say, once for all: If this old woman,' and he poked her hard upon the shoulder with the muzzle of his pistol, 'ever makes an attempt upon my life again, I will shoot her like a mad dog, even though every robber of the cave were standing by. I shall be justified in doing this by every law. Killing is a game at which two can play; and kill I will the next person, be that person man or woman, who makes another attempt upon my life. Caution no one will ever find me to give again. Now, murderous old she-wolf, you understand me?' and as he concluded he gave her such a thrust with his weapon that she fell across the fire. With a scream Silent Poll arose and pulled the old woman off the burning sticks; but not before the crone's gown and apron had taken fire.
'Water! water!' screamed Silent Poll, for once boisterous.
'I shall get her none,' Roland replied. 'It is fitting that she should go to hell in a blaze.' Nancy seized some slops that stood in a vessel near by, and throwing them upon the old woman, quenched the flames. The murderous hag was white with terror; and Roland saw that for all her cruelty she was a great coward. Her hands were badly scorched, nor did her face escape a singeing.
'Take me down to my bed, Poll; this villain, I am afraid, has been the death of me.' Taking her grandmother's arm, this precious wench led her tenderly to the cavern's mouth and down the ladder.
'You have conquered the old woman,' Nancy said; 'and it is well She is now in dread of you, and will not be likely again, unless her chance is sure, to attempt your life.'
'Violence, I shall meet with violence,' Roland replied. 'Of that be sure. But now let us look after this poor wretch.' The Lifter had lain where he fell without moving a muscle; but upon taking his wrist our hero found that his pulse beat.
'He is not dead, Nancy; dash water in his face.' The girl did so, and presently The Lifter opened his eyes.
'Oh, I thought I was dreameen. I warned you; if I didn't she would have crushed your head. I knew she was contemplateen seme harm. Where is she now?' Roland related all that had happened; and The Lifter seemed to be more his friend than ever. After Roland and Nancy had bound up his wounds he crept into the tunnel and went into his bed. Silent Poll returned with a scowling face when the old woman, whom she had 'dosed' with brandy, went asleep, and resumed her yarn balling Roland lay upon the ground and read. When Poll had finished her thread she descended the cavern, and Roland and Nancy were left to themselves.
'Suppose we go now and explore the tunnel, Nancy; I am anxious to see the extent of this retreat of murder and crime.'
'We can descend by a hole close to the tallest of those three pines yonder,' she said as she seized a small coil of rope and led the way. Having fastened the rope around the trunk of the pine, she said:
'We descend by this. I go first; and I shall tell you to come when I am down.' In a second she disappeared; and presently he heard her telling him to come. The sensation, as he descended into the pitch dark cavern, was not an agreeable one; but when his feet touched bottom Nancy took him by the hand.
'We go this way; presently your eyes will be of some use.' She had spoken the truth. After our hero was a few minutes under ground the walls, roof, and floor of the tunnel became fairly visible. As for the floor it was hard and level, the flood having carried all the turf and earth away, leaving the rock bare. Here and there a mass of turf and clay had fallen from above, almost impeding the progress of the explorers; and Roland was well aware that the peril of walking through the place was not small.
When the river sank into the soft swamp, it did not take a straight course for the lake, but wound now to the right and again to the left, according to the solidity of the ground. In addition to these sinuosities there were several pockets or alcoves along the tunnel, as if the stream had here found passage for a short way, and was then obliged to recede. The walls were oozy, and little rivulets trickled through, and went rippling over the floor of the passage.
'A short distance from the dwelling,' Nancy explained, 'a dam has been put before this stream, and it runs through a channel which they cut for it into Silent Lake.'
The two explorers now reached a point well lighted, and turning up his eyes Roland observed a number of holes in the roofing.
'Ah; this is a treacherous spot,'
'Yes; and from here nearly to the end of the passage the roof is much like that. It was all along here that the men who came into the bush fell through; and as they fell the old woman, Poll, and The Lifter despatched them with clubs. Did you never wonder why we are risky enough to light fires by night and assemble by day on the open ground?'
'I have thought that the risk was great, indeed; but I had no way of accounting for it.'
'Well, it is impossible for anybody to approach without having to cross this tunnel at its dangerous part. Why, the very day before you came amongst us, some young man, after woodcock in the swamp, strayed down this way, saw water glimmering beyond him and walked towards it. He fell through, sir, at this very place. His leg was broken by the fall, and he moaned very loudly. Charge of the tunnel and everything that it may catch has from the first been held by the old woman; and either she or Poll passes through it every day. The poor sportsman was found by the old woman; and when she appeared he was astonished, and besought her assistance. But her reply was made with that very same iron poker with which she attempted your life to-day. Silent Poll and The Lifter afterwards dragged the body to the pond. How my heart ached as I heard the dog of the poor young fellow whine as it went about the wood seeking for its master. The captain sent The Lifter out to fetch the animal in, but the poor brute seemed to know that harm was intended, and it went back further into the bush. All the night it cried there; but at sunrise Murfrey crept out with a long-barrelled gun and shot it.'
They had now reached the extremity of the tunnel, and Nancy suggested that they should hasten back.
'Above all other things we must prevent them from surmising that there is any friendship or understanding between us,' Nancy said, 'and the only way in which this can be done is by your pretending to hold me in the same sort of cold contempt as you bestow upon Silent Poll. You must impress them with the belief that you look upon me as an abandoned woman and a murderess. My part shall be to show sympathy with the old woman in to-day's offence, and to denounce you. I shall speak of you to Murfrey, as well as to the woman, as a desperado. In doing this I shall serve the double end of blinding their eyes, and of making them fear your arm.' To this plan Roland cordially agreed, and the two returned to the robber's lair.
On the morning after the foregoing occurrence breakfast was taken at the usual hour. All the robbers were present; and the Rev. Mr. Jonas thanked God for the repast, and begged that his brethren would be given strength from above to carry on the good work in which they had engaged.
The old woman had taken her place at the head of the table, and upon her hands and face were many plasters. The face of the captain was as dark as night; and he did not for many minutes speak to anybody. At last, when the meal was nearly ended, he fixed his fierce eyes upon Roland.
'Those whose hearts are too craven,' he said, 'to go out for adventure among men, like to amuse themselves by assailing old women.'
'She may thank the fiend who presides over her destiny that she came off so easily,' Roland replied with the most consummate coolness.
'But the fact remains,' sneered the chief, 'that while you are afraid to face men, you wreak your vengeance upon an old woman.'
'If you were not what you are, a despicable villain, I should open this discussion by saying that you are a liar. I will merely say that, at all events, I am not afraid to meet you now or any other time, here or any other where.'
The effects of this daring speech was much the same as if a thunderbolt had fallen out of the heavens among the party. As Roland concluded he rose from the table and placed his back against the bluff face of the boulder. The chief did not reply or make any demonstration of violence as they all evidently imagined that he would. Murfrey looked meaningly at his captain; and then rushing from the table, approached our hero. He had his hand in his hip pocket, and there was a gleam of brutal ferocity in his face. Roland immediately drew his pistol.
'Ruffian,' he cried, 'I am always prepared. If you make one step further you fall where you stand. I am not afraid of you, nor of your captain, nor of any one, or ofall, your bloody band. I seek no quarrel with anybody; my great wish is to avoid quarrel; but as you choose, one and all, to insult me, and to attempt my life, this is my only course.' The robber was dumbfounded, but he was speedily recalled to his senses by his chief.
'We will deal with this fellow at some other time. I have a different matter on hand now. Take this rope and fasten an end of it to his arm,' pointing to The Lifter.
The poor wretch knew that some horrible punishment was in store for him, and his face grew deadly pale. Otherwise he showed no sign of terror.
Murfrey fastened the cord, securely, as directed, and stood awaiting further instructions. But the chief had a lecture to deliver before he gave the order; and this was the lecture:
'I desire one and all to know why this punishment is inflicted.It is for treason.My mother was about to take vengeance for insult offered her by this man,' pointing to Roland, 'but my son interfered in a way that you all know. Now I am glad that my mother did not succeed, for I have an object in keeping this young man here for the present. Nevertheless, the fact remains that The Lifter broke the compact which binds us loyally to one another. Hoist him up, Murfrey!'
This burly robber threw the rope over an oak limb, and directed The Lifter to stand 'plumb under.' Murfrey now tightened the rope but he could not raise The Lifter from the ground.
'Since this punishment is for the promotion of one of the great virtues,' chimed in the Rev. Mr. Jonas, 'I may help you.'
The exertions of the two robbers availed, and in a minute the unfortunate Liller, his face convulsed in agony, was hanging by one arm four feet from the ground. Our hero had looked on, a silent spectator, while this brutal act progressed, lamenting his powerlessness to prevent it. But when the robbers coolly took their pipes and began to smoke, paying no heed to the agonised moans of the victim, a courageous resolution formed itself in Roland's brain.
'To save my life,' he thought, 'this poor wretch incurred and suffers this punishment.' He had no sooner made up his mind than he made a step from his seat towards the group.
'How long do you propose keeping him there?' The captain did not reply, but Murfrey made answer.
'Perhaps an hour, perhaps two. But what is it of your business? Do you wish to get strung up?'
'It is so far my business, that if I can release him, not ten seconds longer will he hang there;' and saying these words he strode towards the tree. Facing in such a manner that the entire gang was in front of him he drew his pistol, and by the aid of his left arm began to make his way up the tree. He paused on the first limb, for he perceived that Murfrey was about to spring upon him.
'The first man or woman that makes a move to hinder me, I will shoot.' Murfrey stood irresolute, then moved a step nearer to the tree, whereupon Roland promptly covered him with his weapon.
This was more than the bully had looked for; and upon noticing that no one seemed disposed to assist, he turned away and joined the group. With one blow of his knife, then, Roland severed the cord, and The Lifter fell like a log upon the turf.
Descending then he found that the miserable wretch had fainted from his suffering; indeed, for a time he could discover no trace of a pulse.
'Nancy, fetch me a glass of brandy, immediately.'
Nancy looked at the chief as if to ask his permission, but he merely said:
'I have no concern in the affairs of this whelp.'
'Then I will go,' the girl said, and darting below, she soon returned with a flask. Forcing open The Lifter's mouth, Roland poured in about half a glass of brandy, which in a few seconds brought back the sufferer's pulse. When he had recovered his consciousness he said in a low voice:
'Stranger, you have made me your friend. You are aman.'
Meanwhile the old woman had begun to storm and gesticulate.
'What has the place come to?' she screamed, 'if the master is to be bullied before us all. Is there no one here who will take this impudent upstart and tie him up?'
Nobody moved.
'Pack of cowardly curs,' she screamed, 'to allow a thing like him to frighten you so.'
'Peace, mother,' interposed the Captain. 'Some things are to be punished, others to be tolerated. I think you may safely allow, all these matters, to remain with me. For the present let nothing further be said about this business.' The old woman subsided with a scowl; and Murfrey's eyes gleamed like a beast who has resolved that his prey shall not escape him. The robbers threw themselves around on dried bushes strewn about for such purposes; but Roland and The Lifter took their guns and set out through the bush to hunt partridge.
'You saved my life to-day,' The Lifter said, as he looked in our hero's face; 'and if ever the opportunity comes I will show you that, wicked as I am, I can be grateful.'
'Peace. There is nothing to be said on that point. You saved my life; and we are square.'
'Ah, but it was different. I did it among my friends; you among your enemies.'
'I should like to ask you a favour in return for what you consider my generosity, then,' Roland said, looking at his companion.
'Name it; and if the thing be possible, I shall do it.'
'I would not think of asking if I did not know it to be possible.'
'Well, the favour I ask is not for myself, but for an-f other.' His eyes had sought those of the robber, and held them in their earnest, entreating gaze.
'And who may it be that you ask this favour for?'
'For yourself.' The Lifter was exceedingly astonished; and he did not interrupt by words. 'Yes; my greatest wish is now that you will do me the favour of doing something for yourself.'
'And what is that?'
'To make the resolution, to give me your word, now, here, that as soon as possible you will give up this life of crime, leave this odious lair, and seek your living among honest men.'
'Ah,' his companion replied, with a deep sigh, 'you ask me to do what is impossible.'
'And why impossible? Is it that you are too deeply attached to the ties of this place, to your mode of life, to break the one and give up the other?'
'It is not that; no, indeed. But what would become of me were I to leave this place? I am not so good at disguises as the rest. I would certainly be caught and given to the gallows.'
'You will allow that I know as much, at least, as you can know on this matter. I do not consider the risk great at all. Your disguise would carry you through Canadian territory, and once in the United States you would be free to go among good men and earn your bread. It is true that you never can make thorough reparation for all the crimes to which you have been an accessory, or all the misery that you have helped to create. But you can atone to some extent for the past. You have many gifts, and I am sure that you would win a comfortable position for yourself in a world that guessed nothing of the early chapters of your history.
'Suppose that instead of doing this you elect to remain here. There is one chance that you may go free through all the dangers of your trade of blood; but there are ninety and nine chances that a violent death or the halter shall be your ultimate fate.
'Besides, you may be sure that the law will not much longer permit this lair to remain undiscovered. Your captain is now busy planning the abduction of some young lady, who is, so far as I can judge, a person of note. This will once more incense public feeling against your band; and judge how it must fare with you should the law be triumphant.'
'Upon earth there is notheen that I should prefer doeen to what you say. But do you really think it is sometheen I ought to look to?'
'You have my opinion.'
'Then I pledge myself to do as you desire, and I shall be ready to leave here when you say "go" or "come."' Roland stretched out his hand.
'It is well; it is a bargain. Leave you all the rest to me.'
After they had roamed the woods for some hours—during which they secured a dozen brace of birds—The Lifter said:
'Are you aware that you are to be a prisoner to-night?'
'No.'
'Well, there is a highway robbery on hand to-night, and. I am to go with them.'
'Do you know what the robbery is?'
'Yes; a negro lad, the servant of a very wealthy stock-raiser in a distant part of the township. The servant is to return home after moon rise with a large sum of money, from the sale of several droves. The cattle dealer is gouty, and he has no faith in anything. His servant brings the money home, because he will not trust the banks. The Capteen does not care about entrusteen you to the keepeen of the women; so before we depart you will be fastened securely in your own room. But you will have one friend at home. Nancy, I believe, like myself, would do much to serve you, although she is obliged for her own safety, to pretend that she considers you both dangerous and untrustworthy.'
When supper was ended that evening Roland noticed that the robbers made unusual preparations. Before they departed the chief addressed our hero:
'I have no reason to put any trust in you. Therefore you shall henceforth be treated as a mad dog. Go now to your room; for the door must be made secure before I leave.
'My only regret to-night,' replied Roland, 'is that it lies not in my power to thwart you in your infamous plot. It is well that you set this watch upon me; else I should go from the wood and inform your intended victim of your designs.'
'To your room, sir. Some time you may go too far.'
'This is a point that I have no desire to discuss, you odious robber. My word you have heard, and you hear again, that I care not for your threats; that I defy you and declare you to be as cowardly as you are bloody and bad.' He had faced the band, holding his pistol in his hand; and he moved backward towards the pit. He then noticed that Silent Poll was not among the rest; and he was unwilling to trust himself to the mercies of this creature.
'I shall not descend till the girl joins the rest;' and he now stood in such a manner as to have a view of the robbers and the old woman, as well as of the tunnel's mouth.
The chief shouted, and Silent Poll came forth with an extremely hang-dog expression. Then Roland descended, entered his room, and closed the door. In a moment it was securely fastened upon the outside with sturdy iron bars.
The robbers then set out through the wood for the road, by which the unsuspecting negro must pass. The heavy clouds which had crept in upon the sky at the set of sun now began to part, and, before the miscreants had emerged from the bush, the deep dark of their path was here and there parted by a shaft of silvery light. Through the tree tops a glimpse of the sky could be occasionally obtained; and although no leaf quivered in this sombre swamp the clouds raced across the face of the moon, sometimes shutting up the heavens in dark, again allowing the glory to stream forth and bathe the sky in pure splendour.
'We had better be mounted,' the chief said. 'The negro is a good horseman, and he will likely have one or two others with him. We have little time to lose.' The robbers then bent their steps to the stables, where the horses of the band were kept. A deaf mute cared for the horses, a man with a face so villainous looking, as to make it entirely indescribable. Standing upon the top of the bleak common, with drifts of moonlight shot from the openings, with flying clouds above, every now and again falling upon it, it looked well like the lair of mystery and crime.
The robber chief laid his finger-tips with a gentle sound upon the door, and immediately the mute pushed back the bolts; and then stood aside to let the robbers in.
'Well,' enquired the chief, 'have they passed to York?' and the dummy answering (for it was only to the country side that he was deaf and dumb) said:
'Yes, he and a big country loot passed about twelve o'clock.'
'So early!' ejaculated the captain. 'Then we are not here any too soon.'
'Shall I saddle?'
'Immediately—Do you think these fellows will fight?'
'They were both heavily armed. The negro carried a heavy cutlass and a pair of pistols.
'Ah, then the swamp has its terrors for them.'
'I am sure,' put in the evil looking mute, 'that this nigger will fight like a devil. But as for the galoot that goes with him, I'm sure there's no sand inhim. Easy,' the fellow exclaimed, 'I hear hoofs now; and no doubt 'tis your man.'
'Into your saddles,' was the Captain's order; and immediately the four men sprang out upon the road.
A heavy cloud had drifted across the moon, and when the robbers rode down from the stables, the night was as dark as pitch. When they reached the highway they found themselves close to their victim, who, for some reason had halted.
'Surround him,' said the Captain in an audible whisper. While he was yet speaking the cloud drifted off the moon, and the situation became clearly revealed. The negro sat upon his horse, his head thrust out as if anticipating mischief. The country loot of whom the groom had spoken was not with him.
'Surrender!' shouted the robber chief in a carefully disguised voice. The black immediately slid from his horse, and stood in such a manner that he had the protection of the animal.
The robbers then rode toward him but raising his arm he fired at the Captain. The chiefs horse received the shot in the breast, reared high, and then fell sidelong upon the road. The next shot fired from the plucky negro hit The Lifter upon the right arm, breaking it close to the shoulder.
The suddenness of these casualties deterred the highwaymen for a few moments; during which time the black was edging towards the woods. Nature seemed now as if in conspiracy against the robbers, for at this moment another heavy cloud rolled across the moon. In the sudden darkness that followed the negro escaped into the bush, through which he moved with a tread as noiseless as the rabbit. From the road he could hear the curses of the outwitted highwaymen.
'I will follow this black imp,' the Captain said. 'Get this beast off the road,' indicating the dying horse; 'then go home. You can set bones, Sykes?'
'Yes, God has so blessed me,' returned the pious Mr. Jonas.
'Then attend to his arm at once upon your arrival.' The Lifter was exceedingly pale from the pain of his wound and from the loss of blood. He seemed to have no heart in the affair before the rencontre; and noticing this the Captain wondered much. And if anybody had been watching the face of the wounded highwayman when the negro escaped, he would have seen his eye lighten with satisfaction. The Lifter was in very truth a changed man. So much for the influence of one who is good, zealous and strong of purpose!
Like a sleuth hound the Captain set out along the road which he believed the negro would soon take; and we leave him in pursuit, while we go back to the lair, where the life of our hero stands in grave jeopardy.
For some reason then unknown to Roland, there was no candle in his room when the robbers shut the bolts outside; so he was obliged to make the best of the darkness and the solitude through the long autumn evening. As may be supposed, no air came to the sleeping rooms save through the mouth of the cavern; and as the aperture above our hero's door had been likewise closed, the air was oppressive almost to suffocation.
He shook the door, smote it with his heel, and called aloud many times for Nancy. After a while he heard her voice in the tunnel and knew that she was coming.
'Well,' he heard her say, 'it can't do any harm to ask him what he wants.' He knew then that the old woman was protesting against the girl's response to his call. Again he shook the door and cried out.
'I am suffocating for air.'
'Ah,' screamed the hag, 'I knew he wanted to get out. Now stay in your pit, my gamey young'un, and thank heaven if you ever come out of it alive.'
'I am speaking to you, Nancy; I do not want to come out, nor do I ask you to open the door. All I need is the removal of the hatch above my door, so that some air may come in.'
'May the devil take me if she'll move the hatch. You want to creep through it. I know what you'd be at. Back now to your bed, Nancy; an' if I ketch you about here again to-night, beware.'
'Good-night, sir,' Nancy said; 'when the Captain gets back, I shall tell him about you. Then you will get what you want.'
Roland fell into a sort of reverie a short time afterwards; and how long he so remained he could not afterwards say. But he was called to consciousness by hearing something soft fall, and smash, as it seemed to him, into small particles upon the stony floor of his room. Something fell then upon his face, about an egg's weight and size; and taking it into his hand he discovered that it was clay.
Springing to his feet, he lighted a small 'taper' match and examined the ceiling. To his horror he now discovered that the beams which stretched across to prevent the clayey roof from falling in had been removed. He was certain that they had been there that morning, for as he arose he observed a spider weaving a net from beam to beam, and wondered what she expected as prey. He was certain that the beams had been purposely taken away; and his blood became chilled with horror as he reflected over the motive.
The clay and turf still continued to fall, now in small pieces, and again in huge flakes, till the rock and his couch became covered. 'Could the dropping be accidental?' he asked himself. 'Would the clots if undisturbed, fall so rapidly? How was it that when he first entered the vault this evening, not a particle of anything came down?'
He stood still, his head almost touching the ceiling, listening as if to catch some sound. But for a minute he could only hear the tumultuous beating of his own heart and the occasional downfall of a fragment of clay or turf. At last he did hear something; or rather morefeltthan heard it. At intervals of a few seconds apart he felt the walls of his room vibrate as if under some powerful blow; and succeeding each vibration was a shower from the ceiling. The truth, naked and horrible now rushed upon his mind:his enemies were trying to bury him alive.
Gradually the sound of the blows grew more distinct, from which he gathered that the miscreants were not about to content themselves with pounding the surface, and trusting in that slow fashion to accomplish their crime. Plainly they were delving through the covering which Roland judged was about four feet thick; but as to the manner of implement they were using he was puzzled. He had not long to wait, however, to determine this; for in a little while the ceiling began to shake violently, as if something like a pile-driver were being forced by a series of blows through the yielding turf. What the result must be, too easily could be foreseen. The ponderous driver would first send all the lower portion of the ceiling into the room, and a pressure from above would force the outer portion in.
He had a large knife in his girdle, and bitterly did he now reproach himself for his lack of caution. Why had he not examined the room when he entered it in the early evening? Then with all these long hours before him, he could have cut his way through the door. He understood now why the candle had been taken away from his room. Yet another form of question ran through his terror-tortured mind: who were the miscreants at work above him? That the old woman and her daughter had a hand in the undertaking he felt quite certain; but surely all those mighty blows could not have been dealt by the old woman and her daughter. Had the robbers returned from their mission to the road, and if so, was the Captain privy to the proceedings? He would not believe that he was, for he knew that the chief was reserving him for some selfish end. He then gave up his questionings and rushed at the door. But an elephant flinging himself against those sturdy oaken boards and posts could not force his way; and Roland recoiled with a feeling of numb despair in his heart. Then with one of his bed-posts he began to pound upon the door, calling upon Nancy and The Lifter to come to his rescue.
At this moment an enormous mass fell from the roof, and striking him upon the head and back, felled him senseless to the ground. * * * When he recovered, a kind voice, Nancy's, was whispering in his ear:
'We outwitted them, didn't we? Are you better now?'
'We were just pulleen you out as the whole thing caved in and filled up the room,' said The Lifter, who ended his words with a groan. The pain of his broken arm was very severe.
'It will be rather good fun in the morneen, when you appear among them at breakfast: they think you are buried alive. You will come to my room to-night, Roland; there's room enough for two.'
Roland's brain was still bewildered, and he had many questions to ask
'Good night,' Nancy said, softly, 'I must be away. The Lifter will tell you all about it.' When The Lifter reached his room Roland noticed that his arm was in a sling, and learnt full tidings of the attack upon the negro, and how the captain was absent from home in pursuit of the prey. Joe Murfrey, who had been in league with the old woman and Silent Poll, assisted by Rev. Mr. Jonas, had driven in the earth-roof with a heavy log made like a pile driver. The conspirators believed that The Lifter and Nancy were sleeping; 'and they will never know,' concluded The Lifter, with a joyous chuckle, 'how you got out.'
In the morning all save Roland had assembled about the breakfast-table, and a sound of triumph was in the voice of the hag.
'The living cannot subsist by the dead,' murmured the Rev. Mr.Jonas. 'Even though our poor brother lies ready-tombed we shall beginour repast, thankful thatourunworthy lives still exerciseHis care.'
'Here's brimstone and blazes to the whelp in hell,' shouted Murfrey, as he swallowed nigh upon a tumbler of brandy.
'You ruffian!' They all started, and turning, observed Roland standing by the mouth of the tunnel, whence he saw and heard all that had passed. The two leading conspirators were simply speechless from amazement and rage; and then Murfrey's eyes fell upon Nancy with a dark look of suspicion. But the girl returned his look with one of such innocent, enquiring wonder that he was at once satisfied she had nothing to do with the thwarting.
The old woman seemed for a time to have lost the use of her faculties, and she raved in the most incoherent fashion. Taking little heed of their disappointment, Roland helped himself to many of the good things upon the table, and retiring a little way he seated himself at breakfast upon the dry turf. Before doing so he coolly drew from the pocket at his hip one pistol, and from that at his breast another, laying both beside him on the ground. With the knife in his girdle he cut his bread and meat; and when his meal was ended, sharpened it, most ostentatiously, on a stone near by, now and again giving a glance, in which there was threat as well as defiance, towards Murfrey and the Rev. Mr. Jonas.
'Mother hag,' he went on to say,' I do not think that I can offer you any more grace. The attempt to bury me alive I attribute to your charitable brain. I suppose you think that you have me at your power now that you have deprived me of a sleeping room. Well, these are my terms, dear old lady: unless you give me up your bedroom, which is substantial enough for my needs, I shall shoot you the first slant I get. Then I can hold my own against this precious preacher of the Don here and his confederates. But should the strain of holding my life against these prove too great I shall fall back in good order into the wood, and make my way to the nearest magistrate, where I will render myself up.'
'You seem to have forgotten,' he went on, with a peculiar voice, 'that if I choose to turn King's evidence against you all that the den contains will be unearthed while I go free.'
Every word of this harangue had been heard by the robber chief, who was returning from his expedition, but whose footsteps were so noiseless that they could not be heard.
The robbers soon dispersed and left our hero alone by the bole of a fallen pine. Nancy appeared in a moment, and, as she passed our hero on her way to gather branches for fire kindling, she said:
'They are all afraid. Are holding a consultation now. They will give you the old woman's room.'
Then Nancy was gone. Everything was as still as the solitude of the tomb; and Roland could hear the partridge 'drumming' among the silent aisles of the wood.
He sat upon the tree-bole meditating, and the words of Nancy somehow gave him courage. Presently he heard a rustle in the dry bushes beside him, and, looking he saw a fallow doe making her way with quick but dainty tread towards the lake. He saw that she had not seen him, and that she was coming for the very spot where he sat. So he laid himself noiselessly down in the shelter of the huge trunk, and drawing his heavy pistol awaited.
In a few seconds the unsuspecting animal was within half a dozen paces of him, when, rising, he fired, one, two shots, and the pretty creature fell over, headlong, dead.
Running over he opened the jugular artery so that the blood might run out of the meat, and cause it to be white,—although some of theconnoisseursof game prefer the retention of the blood, as the meat, they affirm, becomes 'gamey' in a shorter period.
The pistol report brought the robbers instantly from the lair with alarm in their faces.
'What is this?' demanded the captain.
'A fallow doe was passing down toward the lake, and I fired.'
'Andmissedit,' sneered Murfrey.
'It is a fine fat one, captain,' Roland said, taking no notice of the ruffian; 'come and feel it.'
'It is more than you could do with a pistol, Joe,' the captain replied, turning to the hang-dog robber, who, with a very disconcerted air, hulked away from the scene, probably in search of Nancy.
It may be objected here that the robbers would not be likely to give their captive the opportunity of escaping which he must have had by being alone. I have to reply for the sake of the small critics who read my book, and to whom the publishers are very glad tosellit, that there was only one means of escape for Roland, and that was along the lakeward side of the tunnel. But the passage here was commanded by the eyes of the gang, who had been underground in consultation.
After the doe had been quartered, The Lifter, taking Roland aside, said:
'You have frighteen'd 'em. You are to have Granny's bed; and the Capteen swears that he will punish the next attempt upon your life as if it was made against his own. "If I want 'em made away with," he said, "I'll tell you, and will make the way known." I think he rather likes your pluck, although he is as mad as blazes that you will not take a hand with us. But I don't think they'll try your life any more, though you must be always on your guard.' Although the conversation of this young robber was most sincere, the above words slipped from his lips like dripping oil, and he had in his face a cunning look, strange and repellant as of yore. But the cunning was now against his confederates, and active upon Roland's side.
'Suppose,' he said, 'we take our rods up the brook. We may catch sometheen.' They went and had extremely good luck; and many a day thereafter, till the stream became covered with a thin crust of leaden-grey ice, did they continue the sport.
In the meantime the robbers went abroad, and Roland occupied the room of the hag, who went with Silent Poll. When the first snow drifts came swishing through the bush a large tent was erected near the mouth of the cavern, and in this the meals were eaten and the household work performed.
This season became very irksome to Roland, who, at the first, had no books to read save 'Claude Duval,' 'Dick Turpin,' 'The Lives of Forty Robbers,' and 'Sixteen-String Jack.' But one day as The Lifter left the lair to go to Muddy York he put a guinea in his hand and a slip of paper containing the titles of certain books that he desired him to bring back. These were 'The Abbot,' 'The Monastery,' 'Zanoni,' and 'Anson's Voyages.' He likewise put a sealed letter into his hand directed to
'Miss Aster Atwell,'Oaklands, York County.'
This letter has been placed into my hands. It is yellow now, and worn so where folded that it makes eight different pieces when spread out. But the writing is legible, and I transcribe its contents, which were as follows:
'My Own Beloved Aster,
'I do not know how I ought to commence a letter to you, or in what terms to write it. I do not know whether you share in the general horror and detestation of my crime; or whether you look upon it as an act forced upon me, an act unavoidable, in defence of my honour. The blame for the lamentable occurrence, I feel, after long deliberation, ought to be laid at my door; for I was too precipitate, and by my haste no doubt provoked the insult.
'I did not at the unlucky moment know what it was that aroused the evil spirit within me; but, oh, Aster, it was in the depths of the sheltering forest, wounded, and set upon by the bloodhounds of the law, I discovered first the reason. Ah, my darling, it was then, and then for the first time only, that I knew how dear you were to me; that above all things in heaven or on earth I loved my own sweet Aster. But how helpless now, how agonizing was that love which my misfortune had fanned into such a sudden flame.
'Well, as you know, my beloved, I escaped from the officers of the law, and the impression is abroad that I am in one of the neighbouring States of the Union. I am in Upper Canada and quite near to you, "so near and yet so far." Where my place of hiding is I may not tell you. Yet this much, Aster, I may say, I am not here of my own choice; I was taken here by force, and by force I am detained. Ah, may I hope that the day yet shall come, when it will be meet for me to present myself to my own darling, the first and only love of my life.
'Yet, why, Aster, should I address you thus? I am a murderer before the tribunals; and whatever I be I am perhaps only a friend in your eyes. Some other one may now find the place in your favour which once I fondly thought I held.
'Oh Aster, if I have done wrong, most bitter has been my punishment. I could not forshamewrite to my beloved what my lot has been since my painful parting. I may escape the toils set about me, or I may perish in them. But oh, my Aster whatever issue fate allots to me, believe this that my love for you shall be my only star to the end.
'Roland.'
'Let nobody be aware that you bear this letter,' Roland whispered when an opportunity offered.
The Lifter raised his finger to his lips.
It appears that Murfrey, whose eyes were ever on the alert, noticed that Roland gave some injunctions to The Lifter, and he likewise observed the latter lay his finger upon his lips. Turning to the Captain, he muttered a few words in a voice that was inaudible, and the chief turned and said:
'Treachery has been charged against you. I do not know whether the charge is true or false. Murfrey says you are the bearer of some secret correspondence for the duellist.
'I know not whether he speaks the truth or not. But I will make no investigation, for if I did and found the charge made good, I should shoot you where you stand. I will take your word upon it.'
The Lifter did not wince under the harangue. He did not, indeed, look at his father at all, but kept his eye upon Murfrey.
'And,' said he, 'before I reply, may I ask what you ought to do to anybody guilty of slandereen? He looked with a full face of hate upon Joe. It will be perceived by this that he was not in the fullest sense 'converted;' for you 'must pray for them that persecute and calumniate you.' I am like The Lifter in this matter. I never pray for my culumniator, but I pray for guidance as to how I maycrushhim. My prayer, I may add, has now and again been heard.
'With respect to the charge,' resumed The Lifter, 'Roland gave me a coin and with it a slip of paper on which were written the names of certain books that he wanted me to buy for him in Muddy York. As I passed him he whispered me not to let anybody know; because I suppose he was afeered that you might object. I put my fingers upon my lips; because I thought 'twas no harm to bring the books. That's all.'
The moralist tells us that 'no lie can be lawful or innocent.' Now I take it that some of the old numbskulls who wrote such things in the church catechisms and books of that ilk ought to be drowned in the bottom of a well. A good clever lie of this sort would raise The Lifter more in my estimation than if he were able to repeat the Forty-Nine articles off by heart, or begin in the Vulgate with 'Pater Noster, qui es in Caelis,' and go through without drawing his breath to 'Sed libera nos a malo.'
'I accept your explanation,' the Captain said, and The Lifter hurried away on his errand to town.
The books were little short of a blessing to Roland; and when nothing else was to be done in winter, he sat in his sleeping-room—which was the one best ventilated among the lot—and read by the light of a candle. How often he laid the book upon his knee and sighed, thinking of his beloved Aster, wondering how she had regarded his letter. In this way many a dreary week went on during which he grew pale and weak from pining and incarceration.
When The Lifter's arm became well, that repentant and unwilling robber was obliged to make up for lost time. His first most important enterprise was to obtain entrance into the house of a large cattle dealer in York, the testy old person by the way, whose negro servant he had endeavoured in vain to rob upon the highway. It became known to the Rev. Mr. Jonas that there was a strong box in the old gentleman's house, and the same was full of 'yellow shiners.' It was secured, the clergyman observed, by three padlocks besides an ordinary lock. In the picking of locks The Lifter was an expert by instinct; and when the worthy father discovered this gift he at once sent him to a locksmith in York for a period of six months.
'Make him as expert as you can in his trade by the end of that time, and forty pounds shall be yours.'
The honest locksmith looked wonderingly at this burly cattle dealer who would pay so much money for giving his son a smattering knowledge of the trade. But he consented, and at the half-year's end The Lifter came out, prepared, as he said with an oily chuckle 'to tackle any lock.'
Well, as I have said, the scene of operations chosen for The Lifter now was the house of this old man; and the money in the box was the object.
'I am sorry that I have to go stealeen again,' the fellow said with a sigh to Roland, and then he explained his mission.
'But that is more than stealing. That will be robbery; and if you are obliged to enter the house after night, it will be burglary. Do you know that the law provides death for burglary?'
'I am goeen to get myself invited in. But I have often burglared, anI did not think they could hang me for it.'
'They could; because the law presumes that a burglar will commit murder, and comes prepared to commit it, rather than suffer himself to be taken in the act.'
'Oh,' groaned the poor wretch. 'Many a hangeen have I earned. But all the same I must do this. Say,' he cried, suddenly turning and laying his hand upon Roland's arm, 'when do you think we will be able to escape out of this place? Nancy would like to come too, I know. I am very fond of her; and would like to marry her and live in the States.'
'I shall let you know when I think the time is opportune. Meanwhile, do as little evil as possible; and if you can deceive the captain in this present enterprise, do so, and leave the locks alone.' Then The Lifter was gone.
That same evening towards the set of sun as 'Old Snarleyow,' as the miserly farmer was called, was limping in from the out-houses to his residence, he saw approaching his gate a lad with a pale and dejected face. His hair was flaxen and his skin had in it just the slightest tinge of apple-green. Imagine wasting such an exquisite colour upon the complexion of a robber! He hobbled towards the gate of the stately old mansion, towards which Snarleyow was also hobbling; and he called in a feeble voice in which you could catch a note of pain:
'Good sir, I pray you to give me the shelter of your house for the night. Please, sir, do. Snow is driving out of the east, and the wind is bitter cold. I cannot live this night if you do not take me in; for I am ill and lame.'
'Go to blazes about your business. Be off to the poor commissioners; they'll attend to your case,' replied the old man as he looked around, bent, and crabbedly thrusting the end of his stick several times into the ground.
'But I shall die before I reach the poor commissioners,' answered the invalid in the same soft, sad voice.
'Then die, and be d—d to you for a tramp,' the old man said, poking his stick once more into the ground and resuming his way. But he was seized with a violent fit of coughing, and almost tumbled upon his turned up, cross old nose. When he recovered he turned round and fairly danced with rage, shaking his stick at the poor wayfarer, who stood meekly by at the gate, shivering there like a dog.
Never a move did he make as the old man with menacing stick approached him, which so incensed Snarleyow that he hastened his pace to a decrepit run. But, as perverse fate or the green-complexioned gentleman at the gate would have it, the old man tripped across a pump handle which was frozen in the ground, and fell directly, and with all his might, upon the tip of hisnez retrousse'.
Upon the ground he lay spluttering, writhing, and giving vent to an occasional shriek till there was a hurrying of feet in the mansion; then the meek and jaded traveller moved gently away till his person was hidden in the pines. Standing against a giant bole the traveller thus soliquized:
'To please Roland I promised to be good; and I felt much good in my heart. I was goeen to find some way of deceiveen my mates; but the old Christeen was too uncharitable, and I shall pick his locks. He would not care if I was dyeen, starveen on the very snow before his eyes. Yes, I'll pick his locks; and what comes to my share I'll give to the poor.'
Now which of these two men, that robber or the respectable old miserChristian, finds more favour in God's sight, think my readers?
Well, The Lifter decided to rob him, and I am glad that he did. I am not dealing with a case in the moon either. I know this old man well; and I am acquainted with some others of his kind.
About an hour after the soliloquy above recorded had taken place a weak set of knuckles rapped upon the back door of the miser's dwelling. The fairies had put, in crystal Chinese white, many ferns and much delicate but tangled tracery upon the panes of the kitchen, yet through them the flaxen-headed stranger saw a round face, and a pair of bright blue eyes. The door was then opened and the head asked:
'Who are you?'
'A poor wretch, tired, ill, lame and hungry. If you will but let me go into the kitchen a rug will serve me for the night.'
'You're the same one, bad luck to you, that so irrithated the masther?'
'I merely asked him for shelter. I said nothing else,' replied the Lifter, in his very softest and, meekest tone. 'I am a poor Catholic boy, and the Protestants about here have no mercy on us.'
He had guessed Bridget's religion from her tone.
'Divil a bit of me blaives you're a Catholic. Not one.'
'In the name of the Father, and of the Son, etc.,' said the Lifter, piously crossing himself. 'And I can give it to you as the priest does in the morneen at the mass,"In nomine Patris, et Filio et Spiritu Sancti!"' again crossing himself. 'And I have been at confesheen, and said this,' striking his breast, "Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa."'
'O begorra, you're one right enough, God bless you; come in out o' the cowld, you poor cratur.' Now the truth is that The Lifter was not a Roman Catholic, but he made himself acquainted with a little of everything to serve him in his diabolical profession.
Poor Bridget tended him as she would a weakly infant, and made many enquiries touching his friends, pursuits, etc., all of which he answered promptly, in his smooth, insinuating voice. Indeed, before he was in Bridget's company an hour he hobbled over and kissed her, whereupon she blushed, put up her apron, and said that he was 'revivin' purty fast since he got into the hait ov the fire.'
'My, but your poor knee must be very sore,' she said, looking at the huge swathing that enveloped that part of his body. 'What's the matter wid it? An evil?'
'Ah, yes, Bridget; a runneen sore. My life has been ebbeen through that hole since I was a child of twelve.'
Poor Bridget looked with moistened eyes upon the smooth-faced sufferer; and he struggled to his feet again, and saluted her wholesome lips.
The reader, of course, is not imposed upon by The Lifter. Inside these ostentatious wrappings our convert carried his skeleton keys, picklocks and screw-drivers; instead of a 'runneen sore' upon the knee, he had an entire tool chest there; yea, little files with teeth so fine that the noise they made would not be nearly so loud as the gnawing of a mouse.
Wonderful stories did the converted robber tell to Bridget before the glowing fire that winter's evening; and when the last sounds of the retiring inmates had died away he was not yet ended. Neither was Bridget willing to part from such sweet and interesting company. The sleek rascal saw this, and looking slyly into Bridget's delf-blue eyes, he said,
'Only for my affliction I think I might get some girl to marry me.'
Bridget sighed and looked down upon his amber hair. Indeed, if The Lifter is to be believed, she passed her fingers caressingly through these insinuating locks.
When the visitor was certain that everyone was asleep, he arose, and looking about him, said,
'This must be a very large house. Many rooms in it?'
'Oi; a morthal large number.'
'I have never seen the house of a rich man. Would you show me through? My eyes are acheen to see the valuable furniture and things.'
'Aisy, till they get asleep, my lammie.' He was so gentle that he suggested a lamb to her Milesian imagination. He therefore told her some new version of the banishment of frogs from the Island of Saints by St. Patrick, and expounded the trinitine mysteries of the three-leaved clover. She was delighted; and I believe that had he 'popped the question,' she would have said 'Yes, me darlint,' straightway.
Presently the two are making a tour of the lower part of the house, and The Lifter expresses his wonder at the luxury by a series of aspirated 'Oh's!'
'This is his library; that place beyant.'
'Let me seeit,'quoth the Lifter; and the two went silently in.
'And that little room at the far end; what's that?' said the visitor.'
'Oh, I couldn't show you that at all, at all. It's locked; bekaise he keeps all his money there.'
'Ah; he's a miser,' The Lifter said in a low voice. 'Show me where I am to sleep.'
She would put him in the attic, but he refused. The kitcheen was good enough for him, if she'd just bring him a pillow to put under his head, and a rug to throw over him.
This at last she consented to do; then stooping down she sturdily hugged his green, hypocritical head, kissed him square on the lips, and went to bed.
'Don't go till I give you some breakfast, me poor dear,' she said as the went. Helookedhis gratitude.
'I shall be waiteen when you come down—(to himself) for the capteen to divide the plunder. But I'll divide mine with the poor;' and he laid himself across the rug to listen. For an hour or better he remained there, and then set up a low but regular snore. For this cunning invader had a notion in his head that Bridget might possibly be hovering still about the lower regions. For five minutes the monotonous, low-rolling snores went up, and then there was a creaking upon the stairs. It was quite plain, and evidently near at first; but The Lifter was soon satisfied that the listener had gone to bed. He had no doubt that it was Bridget, whose honest heart perhaps misgave her after leaving the house at a stranger's mercy. But she was evidently off her guard now, and had retired in good earnest.