[Contents]CHAPTER XX.A Dreadful Situation—Daniel Throckle the old Jailor.The time passed slowly and heavily until within about an hour of nightfall, when steps were again distinctly heard approaching Assueton’s prison. Much to his relief, however, they seemed to be those of a single person; something was put down on the pavement on the outside; the bolts were tardily withdrawn, and the great head of Daniel Throckle alone appeared through the partially opened door, as if to ascertain in what part of the chamber his prisoner was, ere he should venture farther. Seeing Assueton seated as formerly, on the straw, he hastily pushed within the door-way vessels containing food and drink, as before, and instantly retreating, turned the bolts behind him, and departed without uttering a word.Now Assueton’s hopes beat high, and again on his knees he returned his fervent thanks to Heaven. He then determined to avail himself of the small portion of day-light which yet remained, to make everything ready for his escape.Disgusting and revolting as it had been to him, on the first discovery of the murdered body, that it should have been left as his nightly and daily companion, he had now good reason to be glad that it had been so; for even if its removal had not occasioned the discovery of his appropriation of the coil of rope, without it he could have had no means of reaching the ring in the centre of the vault, the only thing within it to which he could have attached the end of his rope, and it would have been there only to have mocked his hopes.After he had succeeded in making it fast, he had still an appalling difficulty before him; for the window was so high above the floor of the vault that it was quite beyond all reach. There was, to be sure, a small fragment of rusty iron, that projected an inch or two from the centre of the sole of it, like the decayed remains of a stanchion, that had once divided the space vertically within; but it was little better than a knob. It yet remained to be proved, therefore, whether he should succeed in throwing a part of his rope over this frail pin of iron, so as to furnish him with the means of pulling himself up to the window; and he lost no time in making the experiment. But this, so[154]absolutely essential part of his operations, he found most difficult to effect. He threw, cast, and jerked the rope, trying every possible way he could think of; but the piece of iron was so short that, although he often succeeded in throwing the rope over it, he could never manage to make it hold. The day-light ebbed away fast, and still he laboured, but without success. At length he grew desperate, and threw the rope up time after time with mad and senseless rapidity. It became darker and darker till pitchy night closed in, yet still he persevered in throwing furiously and at random; but it was the perseverance of despair, all attempt at skill being utterly abandoned. At length, when he had almost become frantic, it caught as he pulled back after an accidental throw; he felt it hold against him, and keeping it down to the floor tight with one foot, to prevent it from slipping, he laid the whole weight of the coil upon it, and then, dropping on his knees, returned thanks to Heaven for his success. It was but a small matter throwing a coil of rope over a projecting fragment of iron; yet on that trifle depended all his hopes, for by means of that small piece of iron alone could he escape.He now sat him down on the coil to wait patiently for the hour when he might think it safe to make his bold attempt.Judging at length that the night was sufficiently far advanced for his purpose, he offered up a prayer for divine aid and protection, and tying the blanket of the bed around him in case of need, laid hold of the rope and hoisted himself up by his arms, until he had reached the window. Having lodged himself fairly in its aperture, he discovered that the wall was at least six or eight feet thick. He now laid himself on his side, with his feet hanging inwards, and by slow degrees pulled up the rope, until he got the whole coil deposited safely within the small area of the window. The space was barely sufficient to admit of his creeping easily through. Altering his position, therefore, and advancing his feet, he wormed himself forward, when, just as he expected to thrust them into the open air, he felt them suddenly arrested by a vertical bar of iron. His heart was chilled by its touch. He tried the width of the vacancies on either side of it, but neither afforded space enough to admit of the passage of his body.Much disheartened by this unexpected obstruction, he withdrew himself, and with great difficulty again changed his position, and advanced head foremost until he brought his hands near enough the bar to feel it all over. It was much decayed by rust, but yet by far too strong to be broken by the mere force of his[155]arm. After a little consideration, he drew his dagger, and making use of its point, worked away the lead and the stone where the lower end of the stanchion was inserted; and after labouring unceasingly for a considerable time, he found he had weakened the stone and removed the lead so much that he had some hopes of assailing it successfully with his feet. He was now, therefore, obliged to retreat again and change his position, so that he again projected his feet till they came in contact with the bar. Having fixed himself firmly in the place by means of his arms, that he might bring all his force to bear against it, he was about to strike violently at it with the soles of his feet when he remembered that the sound might be heard below. His situation made him fertile in expedients. He slipped forward a part of the blanket, and, adjusting two or three folds of it over the bar, he began to drive his feet furiously against it. It gradually gave way before them, and then it suddenly yielded entirely. He ceased working for an instant, and, to his no small alarm, heard a piece of the stone he had driven off fall in the court-yard below. He listened anxiously for a time, but no alarm seemed to have been excited. He again felt at the bar with his feet, and recommencing his attack upon it, after a succession of hard blows, he bent it so far outwards as to leave no doubt that he could pass himself through the aperture.Commending himself to God, then, he slipped himself forward, and, committing his weight gently to the rope, he began his descent by shifting his hands alternately and slowly one below the other, always pulling out more and more of the coil of rope as he wanted it, until, the end of it being unwound, it fell perpendicularly below him. Still he went on descending till, to his no small dismay, he found that he had reached the last foot of his length. For an instant he hung in awful doubt. He cast his eyes below, but the night was so dark that the ground beneath was invisible, and he could not possibly calculate the height that yet remained. He thought for a few moments; and finally, resigning himself to the care of Providence, he loosened his grasp of the rope and fell. His fall was dreadful, and his death would have been certain had not his descent been interrupted by a fortunate circumstance. The blanket he had wrapped round him caught in the branches of a yew tree growing close to the wall, and although it did not keep its hold, yet the force of the fall was so much broken that he escaped comparatively uninjured.He lay stunned for some moments under the tree; and then, recovering himself, he was about to rise, when, reflecting that[156]he must proceed with caution, he crept silently forth from his covert, and listened to hear if there was any one stirring. All was quiet. He then moved forward, and dark as the night was, he could yet perceive the outer walls and towers of the building rising against the pale glimmer of the sky. His first step was to steal around the base of the keep, that he might reconnoitre it in all directions; and, as he did so, he passed by its entrance, which he found open. Wishing to examine farther, he went on listening, but all was silent around. At length, as he moved onwards to another side of the building, he descried a light breaking from a loop-hole window near the foundation of the keep, and heard the sound of human voices, with now and then a peal of boisterous laughter. He approached with extreme caution and silence, until he was near enough to see and hear all that passed within.The place he looked down into appeared to be a sort of cellar, being surrounded with huge barrels placed against the walls, near one of which, on an inverted tub, sat the old jailor, Daniel Throckle, with a great wooden stoup of ale on his knee, and with no small quantity of the fumes of the same fluid in his brain, as was evident from the manner in which his eyes ogled in his head. Almost close by him stood a good-looking wench in conversation with him; and the group was lighted by a clumsy iron lamp placed on the top of one of the largest of the tuns.“Coum, coum, Daeniel Throckle,” said the girl, “thee hast had enow o’ that strong stuff; that stoup but accloyeth thee. Blessed Mary! but thine eyes do look most fearsome askaunce already.”“Nay, nay, my bellebone,” replied Throckle, “I mun ha’ a wee drop more yet. Coum, now, do sit thee down, and be buxom a bit—a—a—. Thee knawest—a—that I loves thee dearly—he! he! he! Sit thee down, I say—a—a; sit thee down, my soft, my soote virginal!—By St. Cuthbert, there be not a he that yalt the gate through sun and weet—a—a—that—a—a—he! he! he!—that loveth thee more than I do.—Sit thee down, I say—a—a—and troll a roundel with me. Here ye, now, do but—a—a—do but join thy sweet voice with mine.—Nay then, an thou wont, I mun e’en—a—a—sing by mysell—a—a—O I am the manThat can empty a can,And fill it again and again, ah!A—a—And empty and fill,And the barley-juice swill,Till a tun of the liquor I drain, ah![157]A—a—Then it lightens mine eye,And my liard jokes fly,And warms my old blood into pleasure,A—a—Then out comes my song,Trolling glibly a—along,And merrily clinks in the measure.Oh—a—a—a—And then should I seeA sweet pusell like thee,She catches mine eye, as I cock it;And then at her, gadzooks!I throw such winning looks,As soon turn both of hers in the socket.A murrain on’t! how should I forget the rest on’t!So then I—a—a—then—aThe red fiend catch, it, for I can’t!—So, my bonnie mistress, Betty Burrel, do thee—a—do thee sit thee down here, whiles I but drink this single can of double ale; and, sin’ we canna sing the rest o’ the stave—a—a—sit thee down, and let me kiss thee.”“Na, na, Daeniel Throckle,” said the girl; “thee knawest thou’rt ower auld for me—thou’rt ower auld to be mate o’ mine”———“Ower auld!—a—a—thou scoffing—thou scoffing giglet thou!” cried Throckle; “thou’ll find me—a—kinder—a—thou’lt find me kinder at least than that cross-grained, haughty knave, Ralpho Proudfoot. A pestilent rascal!—Thou knawest—a—a—a—thou knawest, I say, how ill he used thee—a—but last night—no farther gone. Did he not beat thee—a—yestreen—a—till he made thee rout out like any Laverdale cow, when—a—she hath been driven—a—across the Border—a—and hath left her calf behind her?”“In troth, Daeniel Throckle,” said the wench, “he did use me hard enow, that’s certain, now when a’s done. But rise thee up, Daeniel. Bethink thee, thou’rt a’ that be left to guard the Castle, and it be na mysel, and auld Harry Haddon standing sentry at the yett. Ise warrant he’s asleep or this time:—And what ’ud coum o’ us an the prisoners were to break out?”“Phoo!” said Daniel, sticking one arm akimbo, and assuming the most ridiculous air of importance—“Phoo! I would not care that—a—a—snap of my finger, look you now, for—a—a—for the whole bunch of ’em. A stout, able-bodied—a—courageous—a—warlikesome—a—Southron like me—well fortified and charged with potent double ale—against three lousy Scottish louns! Phoo! I’d put ’em all down with my thumb. But—a—a—but look ye here, my bonnie Betty Burrel; here they are[158]—a—a—all safe at my girdle. This mockel knave here,” continued he, laying hold of the keys that hung from his belt, “this mockel knave—a—I call Goliath; he—a—a—he locks me up and maketh me sicker—a—the tall dark wight—a—that hath been put in durance in the hanging vault at the top o’ the keep: he’s—a—he’s fast enow, I warrant thee, and, ha! ha! ha! hath got jolly company with him, I wot. Poor Tim Ord, thou knawest—a—was strung up for traiterie; and ha! ha! ha!—sure I canna help loffen to but think on’t; ha! ha! ha! ha! he hangs yonder aside the poor Scottish Knight they took yestreen—a bonnie jolly comrade for him to spend the night wi’, I trow.”“Poor Tim Ord!” said the girl, “thou gar’st mine heart creep to think hoo hasty they waur wi’ ’im.”“Hasty,” cried Throckle, “ay, I trow, he lay not among his straw an hour—a—till Wat Withe and his mates broke his dreams, to send him to a sounder sleep, ha! ha! ha! But—a—a—’tis the gate, wench—a—’tis the gate that a’ sike traitorous faitours should yede them.”“But what key is that other wi’ the queer courbed handle?” inquired the curious Betty Burrel.“Wilt thou—a—a—wilt thou gie me a buss, then, and I’ll tell thee?” said Throckle.Betty Burrel advanced her head within his reach. Old Throckle kissed her, and endeavoured to detain her, but, after some little romping, she escaped.“Tell me now,” said she, “sin I gied thee the kiss.”“That courbe—hafted key,” said Throckle, lifting it up; “that—a—a—I call—a—a—a—I call Crooked-hold-him-fast: he locks the donjon vault at the end of the passage—a—the passage aneath the stair. There—a—there lies the tway rogues wha were cotched i’ the same trap wi’ the wight in the hanging vault. This third key—a—this here is called Nicholas-nimble-touch: he—a—he openeth the range of vaults on the north side. They are tenantless; but an the Knight and his bandon have good luck, they may be filled ere the morn’s night. This—a—this other key—a—I call Will-whirl-i’-the-wards—a: he opens—a—opens the dark vault i’ the middle, in which—a—in which is the mouth o’ the donjon pit.”“An’ what be that sma’ tiny key?” said Betty Burrel.“That,” said Trockle, “that—a—a—that is merry Mrs. Margery-of-the-mousetrap, though—a—a—that is but an ill-bestowed name, seeing that—a—a—it be’s more of a bird-cage, I wot. But—a—a—Mrs. Margery keeps—she—a—she keeps the door—a—the door of the ladies’ room—the ladies’ room off[159]the passage—a—the passage leading to the hall, them knawest—a—thou knawest there be’s a linnet bird there encaged. The Knight—a—the Knight can’t at no rate make her warble—a—warble as he would ha’ her. But she’s but new caught—a—and she may sing another measure—a—ay, ay, and dance too, when he comes back again. Nay, but now I ha’ told thee all—a—sweet Mistress Betty Burrel—a—sweet Betty, sit thee down—a—a—a—and sing—a—a—sing one roundel. Coum! here’s to thy health, my—a—a—my bonny blossom.”He put the wooden stoup to his head, and drained it to the bottom.“A—a—” said he then, attempting to rise and lay hold of Betty; “a—a—coum—a—a—sit thee—a—a—a—sit thee down—sit thee down—a—one roundel—one kiss—a—a—.”“Nay, nay,” cried Betty Burrel, moving off; “I maun to my bed i’ the kitchen, Master Throckle; I be wearisome tired and sleepy.”“Now, see,” cried Throckle, standing up, “now see—a—see what it is—a—see what it is to be between liquor and love—a. Wise as thou art, Master Daniel Throckle, thou be’st but as the ass i’ the fable between the tway haycocks—a.—Shalt thou after the Rownsyvall jade now?—or shalt thou—a—shalt thou have one stoup more—ay—one stoup more?—Daniel, one stoup more will make thee—a—will make thee—a—one stoup the stouter. Coum, then—a.”He opened the spigot, and, holding the stoup with both hands, tried to catch the ale as it spouted forth, gallons of it spilling on the floor for the drops that entered the mouth of the vessel.“A murrain—a—a—a murrain on it, I say—a. May I die—a—die of thirst—a—if the barrel be not dronkelew—a. It canna—a—a—it canna stand fast—a—a—stand fast only till I—a—a—till I fill mine stoup—a—a. But hold!—a—a—hold, I say—it runs over now—a—a—over now like a fountain. Oh! I am the man—a—a—to empty a can—a—a—and fill it—a—a—(hiccup)—fill it again and again—ah!—a—a—so here goes.”And, leaving the spigot to run as it might, he put the stoup to his head, and drinking it out, staggered forward a step or two towards the door, and, losing his feet and his balance at the same moment, fell backwards with a tremendous crash on the pavement, where he lay senseless in a sea of ale that deluged the floor.[160]
[Contents]CHAPTER XX.A Dreadful Situation—Daniel Throckle the old Jailor.The time passed slowly and heavily until within about an hour of nightfall, when steps were again distinctly heard approaching Assueton’s prison. Much to his relief, however, they seemed to be those of a single person; something was put down on the pavement on the outside; the bolts were tardily withdrawn, and the great head of Daniel Throckle alone appeared through the partially opened door, as if to ascertain in what part of the chamber his prisoner was, ere he should venture farther. Seeing Assueton seated as formerly, on the straw, he hastily pushed within the door-way vessels containing food and drink, as before, and instantly retreating, turned the bolts behind him, and departed without uttering a word.Now Assueton’s hopes beat high, and again on his knees he returned his fervent thanks to Heaven. He then determined to avail himself of the small portion of day-light which yet remained, to make everything ready for his escape.Disgusting and revolting as it had been to him, on the first discovery of the murdered body, that it should have been left as his nightly and daily companion, he had now good reason to be glad that it had been so; for even if its removal had not occasioned the discovery of his appropriation of the coil of rope, without it he could have had no means of reaching the ring in the centre of the vault, the only thing within it to which he could have attached the end of his rope, and it would have been there only to have mocked his hopes.After he had succeeded in making it fast, he had still an appalling difficulty before him; for the window was so high above the floor of the vault that it was quite beyond all reach. There was, to be sure, a small fragment of rusty iron, that projected an inch or two from the centre of the sole of it, like the decayed remains of a stanchion, that had once divided the space vertically within; but it was little better than a knob. It yet remained to be proved, therefore, whether he should succeed in throwing a part of his rope over this frail pin of iron, so as to furnish him with the means of pulling himself up to the window; and he lost no time in making the experiment. But this, so[154]absolutely essential part of his operations, he found most difficult to effect. He threw, cast, and jerked the rope, trying every possible way he could think of; but the piece of iron was so short that, although he often succeeded in throwing the rope over it, he could never manage to make it hold. The day-light ebbed away fast, and still he laboured, but without success. At length he grew desperate, and threw the rope up time after time with mad and senseless rapidity. It became darker and darker till pitchy night closed in, yet still he persevered in throwing furiously and at random; but it was the perseverance of despair, all attempt at skill being utterly abandoned. At length, when he had almost become frantic, it caught as he pulled back after an accidental throw; he felt it hold against him, and keeping it down to the floor tight with one foot, to prevent it from slipping, he laid the whole weight of the coil upon it, and then, dropping on his knees, returned thanks to Heaven for his success. It was but a small matter throwing a coil of rope over a projecting fragment of iron; yet on that trifle depended all his hopes, for by means of that small piece of iron alone could he escape.He now sat him down on the coil to wait patiently for the hour when he might think it safe to make his bold attempt.Judging at length that the night was sufficiently far advanced for his purpose, he offered up a prayer for divine aid and protection, and tying the blanket of the bed around him in case of need, laid hold of the rope and hoisted himself up by his arms, until he had reached the window. Having lodged himself fairly in its aperture, he discovered that the wall was at least six or eight feet thick. He now laid himself on his side, with his feet hanging inwards, and by slow degrees pulled up the rope, until he got the whole coil deposited safely within the small area of the window. The space was barely sufficient to admit of his creeping easily through. Altering his position, therefore, and advancing his feet, he wormed himself forward, when, just as he expected to thrust them into the open air, he felt them suddenly arrested by a vertical bar of iron. His heart was chilled by its touch. He tried the width of the vacancies on either side of it, but neither afforded space enough to admit of the passage of his body.Much disheartened by this unexpected obstruction, he withdrew himself, and with great difficulty again changed his position, and advanced head foremost until he brought his hands near enough the bar to feel it all over. It was much decayed by rust, but yet by far too strong to be broken by the mere force of his[155]arm. After a little consideration, he drew his dagger, and making use of its point, worked away the lead and the stone where the lower end of the stanchion was inserted; and after labouring unceasingly for a considerable time, he found he had weakened the stone and removed the lead so much that he had some hopes of assailing it successfully with his feet. He was now, therefore, obliged to retreat again and change his position, so that he again projected his feet till they came in contact with the bar. Having fixed himself firmly in the place by means of his arms, that he might bring all his force to bear against it, he was about to strike violently at it with the soles of his feet when he remembered that the sound might be heard below. His situation made him fertile in expedients. He slipped forward a part of the blanket, and, adjusting two or three folds of it over the bar, he began to drive his feet furiously against it. It gradually gave way before them, and then it suddenly yielded entirely. He ceased working for an instant, and, to his no small alarm, heard a piece of the stone he had driven off fall in the court-yard below. He listened anxiously for a time, but no alarm seemed to have been excited. He again felt at the bar with his feet, and recommencing his attack upon it, after a succession of hard blows, he bent it so far outwards as to leave no doubt that he could pass himself through the aperture.Commending himself to God, then, he slipped himself forward, and, committing his weight gently to the rope, he began his descent by shifting his hands alternately and slowly one below the other, always pulling out more and more of the coil of rope as he wanted it, until, the end of it being unwound, it fell perpendicularly below him. Still he went on descending till, to his no small dismay, he found that he had reached the last foot of his length. For an instant he hung in awful doubt. He cast his eyes below, but the night was so dark that the ground beneath was invisible, and he could not possibly calculate the height that yet remained. He thought for a few moments; and finally, resigning himself to the care of Providence, he loosened his grasp of the rope and fell. His fall was dreadful, and his death would have been certain had not his descent been interrupted by a fortunate circumstance. The blanket he had wrapped round him caught in the branches of a yew tree growing close to the wall, and although it did not keep its hold, yet the force of the fall was so much broken that he escaped comparatively uninjured.He lay stunned for some moments under the tree; and then, recovering himself, he was about to rise, when, reflecting that[156]he must proceed with caution, he crept silently forth from his covert, and listened to hear if there was any one stirring. All was quiet. He then moved forward, and dark as the night was, he could yet perceive the outer walls and towers of the building rising against the pale glimmer of the sky. His first step was to steal around the base of the keep, that he might reconnoitre it in all directions; and, as he did so, he passed by its entrance, which he found open. Wishing to examine farther, he went on listening, but all was silent around. At length, as he moved onwards to another side of the building, he descried a light breaking from a loop-hole window near the foundation of the keep, and heard the sound of human voices, with now and then a peal of boisterous laughter. He approached with extreme caution and silence, until he was near enough to see and hear all that passed within.The place he looked down into appeared to be a sort of cellar, being surrounded with huge barrels placed against the walls, near one of which, on an inverted tub, sat the old jailor, Daniel Throckle, with a great wooden stoup of ale on his knee, and with no small quantity of the fumes of the same fluid in his brain, as was evident from the manner in which his eyes ogled in his head. Almost close by him stood a good-looking wench in conversation with him; and the group was lighted by a clumsy iron lamp placed on the top of one of the largest of the tuns.“Coum, coum, Daeniel Throckle,” said the girl, “thee hast had enow o’ that strong stuff; that stoup but accloyeth thee. Blessed Mary! but thine eyes do look most fearsome askaunce already.”“Nay, nay, my bellebone,” replied Throckle, “I mun ha’ a wee drop more yet. Coum, now, do sit thee down, and be buxom a bit—a—a—. Thee knawest—a—that I loves thee dearly—he! he! he! Sit thee down, I say—a—a; sit thee down, my soft, my soote virginal!—By St. Cuthbert, there be not a he that yalt the gate through sun and weet—a—a—that—a—a—he! he! he!—that loveth thee more than I do.—Sit thee down, I say—a—a—and troll a roundel with me. Here ye, now, do but—a—a—do but join thy sweet voice with mine.—Nay then, an thou wont, I mun e’en—a—a—sing by mysell—a—a—O I am the manThat can empty a can,And fill it again and again, ah!A—a—And empty and fill,And the barley-juice swill,Till a tun of the liquor I drain, ah![157]A—a—Then it lightens mine eye,And my liard jokes fly,And warms my old blood into pleasure,A—a—Then out comes my song,Trolling glibly a—along,And merrily clinks in the measure.Oh—a—a—a—And then should I seeA sweet pusell like thee,She catches mine eye, as I cock it;And then at her, gadzooks!I throw such winning looks,As soon turn both of hers in the socket.A murrain on’t! how should I forget the rest on’t!So then I—a—a—then—aThe red fiend catch, it, for I can’t!—So, my bonnie mistress, Betty Burrel, do thee—a—do thee sit thee down here, whiles I but drink this single can of double ale; and, sin’ we canna sing the rest o’ the stave—a—a—sit thee down, and let me kiss thee.”“Na, na, Daeniel Throckle,” said the girl; “thee knawest thou’rt ower auld for me—thou’rt ower auld to be mate o’ mine”———“Ower auld!—a—a—thou scoffing—thou scoffing giglet thou!” cried Throckle; “thou’ll find me—a—kinder—a—thou’lt find me kinder at least than that cross-grained, haughty knave, Ralpho Proudfoot. A pestilent rascal!—Thou knawest—a—a—a—thou knawest, I say, how ill he used thee—a—but last night—no farther gone. Did he not beat thee—a—yestreen—a—till he made thee rout out like any Laverdale cow, when—a—she hath been driven—a—across the Border—a—and hath left her calf behind her?”“In troth, Daeniel Throckle,” said the wench, “he did use me hard enow, that’s certain, now when a’s done. But rise thee up, Daeniel. Bethink thee, thou’rt a’ that be left to guard the Castle, and it be na mysel, and auld Harry Haddon standing sentry at the yett. Ise warrant he’s asleep or this time:—And what ’ud coum o’ us an the prisoners were to break out?”“Phoo!” said Daniel, sticking one arm akimbo, and assuming the most ridiculous air of importance—“Phoo! I would not care that—a—a—snap of my finger, look you now, for—a—a—for the whole bunch of ’em. A stout, able-bodied—a—courageous—a—warlikesome—a—Southron like me—well fortified and charged with potent double ale—against three lousy Scottish louns! Phoo! I’d put ’em all down with my thumb. But—a—a—but look ye here, my bonnie Betty Burrel; here they are[158]—a—a—all safe at my girdle. This mockel knave here,” continued he, laying hold of the keys that hung from his belt, “this mockel knave—a—I call Goliath; he—a—a—he locks me up and maketh me sicker—a—the tall dark wight—a—that hath been put in durance in the hanging vault at the top o’ the keep: he’s—a—he’s fast enow, I warrant thee, and, ha! ha! ha! hath got jolly company with him, I wot. Poor Tim Ord, thou knawest—a—was strung up for traiterie; and ha! ha! ha!—sure I canna help loffen to but think on’t; ha! ha! ha! ha! he hangs yonder aside the poor Scottish Knight they took yestreen—a bonnie jolly comrade for him to spend the night wi’, I trow.”“Poor Tim Ord!” said the girl, “thou gar’st mine heart creep to think hoo hasty they waur wi’ ’im.”“Hasty,” cried Throckle, “ay, I trow, he lay not among his straw an hour—a—till Wat Withe and his mates broke his dreams, to send him to a sounder sleep, ha! ha! ha! But—a—a—’tis the gate, wench—a—’tis the gate that a’ sike traitorous faitours should yede them.”“But what key is that other wi’ the queer courbed handle?” inquired the curious Betty Burrel.“Wilt thou—a—a—wilt thou gie me a buss, then, and I’ll tell thee?” said Throckle.Betty Burrel advanced her head within his reach. Old Throckle kissed her, and endeavoured to detain her, but, after some little romping, she escaped.“Tell me now,” said she, “sin I gied thee the kiss.”“That courbe—hafted key,” said Throckle, lifting it up; “that—a—a—I call—a—a—a—I call Crooked-hold-him-fast: he locks the donjon vault at the end of the passage—a—the passage aneath the stair. There—a—there lies the tway rogues wha were cotched i’ the same trap wi’ the wight in the hanging vault. This third key—a—this here is called Nicholas-nimble-touch: he—a—he openeth the range of vaults on the north side. They are tenantless; but an the Knight and his bandon have good luck, they may be filled ere the morn’s night. This—a—this other key—a—I call Will-whirl-i’-the-wards—a: he opens—a—opens the dark vault i’ the middle, in which—a—in which is the mouth o’ the donjon pit.”“An’ what be that sma’ tiny key?” said Betty Burrel.“That,” said Trockle, “that—a—a—that is merry Mrs. Margery-of-the-mousetrap, though—a—a—that is but an ill-bestowed name, seeing that—a—a—it be’s more of a bird-cage, I wot. But—a—a—Mrs. Margery keeps—she—a—she keeps the door—a—the door of the ladies’ room—the ladies’ room off[159]the passage—a—the passage leading to the hall, them knawest—a—thou knawest there be’s a linnet bird there encaged. The Knight—a—the Knight can’t at no rate make her warble—a—warble as he would ha’ her. But she’s but new caught—a—and she may sing another measure—a—ay, ay, and dance too, when he comes back again. Nay, but now I ha’ told thee all—a—sweet Mistress Betty Burrel—a—sweet Betty, sit thee down—a—a—a—and sing—a—a—sing one roundel. Coum! here’s to thy health, my—a—a—my bonny blossom.”He put the wooden stoup to his head, and drained it to the bottom.“A—a—” said he then, attempting to rise and lay hold of Betty; “a—a—coum—a—a—sit thee—a—a—a—sit thee down—sit thee down—a—one roundel—one kiss—a—a—.”“Nay, nay,” cried Betty Burrel, moving off; “I maun to my bed i’ the kitchen, Master Throckle; I be wearisome tired and sleepy.”“Now, see,” cried Throckle, standing up, “now see—a—see what it is—a—see what it is to be between liquor and love—a. Wise as thou art, Master Daniel Throckle, thou be’st but as the ass i’ the fable between the tway haycocks—a.—Shalt thou after the Rownsyvall jade now?—or shalt thou—a—shalt thou have one stoup more—ay—one stoup more?—Daniel, one stoup more will make thee—a—will make thee—a—one stoup the stouter. Coum, then—a.”He opened the spigot, and, holding the stoup with both hands, tried to catch the ale as it spouted forth, gallons of it spilling on the floor for the drops that entered the mouth of the vessel.“A murrain—a—a—a murrain on it, I say—a. May I die—a—die of thirst—a—if the barrel be not dronkelew—a. It canna—a—a—it canna stand fast—a—a—stand fast only till I—a—a—till I fill mine stoup—a—a. But hold!—a—a—hold, I say—it runs over now—a—a—over now like a fountain. Oh! I am the man—a—a—to empty a can—a—a—and fill it—a—a—(hiccup)—fill it again and again—ah!—a—a—so here goes.”And, leaving the spigot to run as it might, he put the stoup to his head, and drinking it out, staggered forward a step or two towards the door, and, losing his feet and his balance at the same moment, fell backwards with a tremendous crash on the pavement, where he lay senseless in a sea of ale that deluged the floor.[160]
CHAPTER XX.A Dreadful Situation—Daniel Throckle the old Jailor.
A Dreadful Situation—Daniel Throckle the old Jailor.
A Dreadful Situation—Daniel Throckle the old Jailor.
The time passed slowly and heavily until within about an hour of nightfall, when steps were again distinctly heard approaching Assueton’s prison. Much to his relief, however, they seemed to be those of a single person; something was put down on the pavement on the outside; the bolts were tardily withdrawn, and the great head of Daniel Throckle alone appeared through the partially opened door, as if to ascertain in what part of the chamber his prisoner was, ere he should venture farther. Seeing Assueton seated as formerly, on the straw, he hastily pushed within the door-way vessels containing food and drink, as before, and instantly retreating, turned the bolts behind him, and departed without uttering a word.Now Assueton’s hopes beat high, and again on his knees he returned his fervent thanks to Heaven. He then determined to avail himself of the small portion of day-light which yet remained, to make everything ready for his escape.Disgusting and revolting as it had been to him, on the first discovery of the murdered body, that it should have been left as his nightly and daily companion, he had now good reason to be glad that it had been so; for even if its removal had not occasioned the discovery of his appropriation of the coil of rope, without it he could have had no means of reaching the ring in the centre of the vault, the only thing within it to which he could have attached the end of his rope, and it would have been there only to have mocked his hopes.After he had succeeded in making it fast, he had still an appalling difficulty before him; for the window was so high above the floor of the vault that it was quite beyond all reach. There was, to be sure, a small fragment of rusty iron, that projected an inch or two from the centre of the sole of it, like the decayed remains of a stanchion, that had once divided the space vertically within; but it was little better than a knob. It yet remained to be proved, therefore, whether he should succeed in throwing a part of his rope over this frail pin of iron, so as to furnish him with the means of pulling himself up to the window; and he lost no time in making the experiment. But this, so[154]absolutely essential part of his operations, he found most difficult to effect. He threw, cast, and jerked the rope, trying every possible way he could think of; but the piece of iron was so short that, although he often succeeded in throwing the rope over it, he could never manage to make it hold. The day-light ebbed away fast, and still he laboured, but without success. At length he grew desperate, and threw the rope up time after time with mad and senseless rapidity. It became darker and darker till pitchy night closed in, yet still he persevered in throwing furiously and at random; but it was the perseverance of despair, all attempt at skill being utterly abandoned. At length, when he had almost become frantic, it caught as he pulled back after an accidental throw; he felt it hold against him, and keeping it down to the floor tight with one foot, to prevent it from slipping, he laid the whole weight of the coil upon it, and then, dropping on his knees, returned thanks to Heaven for his success. It was but a small matter throwing a coil of rope over a projecting fragment of iron; yet on that trifle depended all his hopes, for by means of that small piece of iron alone could he escape.He now sat him down on the coil to wait patiently for the hour when he might think it safe to make his bold attempt.Judging at length that the night was sufficiently far advanced for his purpose, he offered up a prayer for divine aid and protection, and tying the blanket of the bed around him in case of need, laid hold of the rope and hoisted himself up by his arms, until he had reached the window. Having lodged himself fairly in its aperture, he discovered that the wall was at least six or eight feet thick. He now laid himself on his side, with his feet hanging inwards, and by slow degrees pulled up the rope, until he got the whole coil deposited safely within the small area of the window. The space was barely sufficient to admit of his creeping easily through. Altering his position, therefore, and advancing his feet, he wormed himself forward, when, just as he expected to thrust them into the open air, he felt them suddenly arrested by a vertical bar of iron. His heart was chilled by its touch. He tried the width of the vacancies on either side of it, but neither afforded space enough to admit of the passage of his body.Much disheartened by this unexpected obstruction, he withdrew himself, and with great difficulty again changed his position, and advanced head foremost until he brought his hands near enough the bar to feel it all over. It was much decayed by rust, but yet by far too strong to be broken by the mere force of his[155]arm. After a little consideration, he drew his dagger, and making use of its point, worked away the lead and the stone where the lower end of the stanchion was inserted; and after labouring unceasingly for a considerable time, he found he had weakened the stone and removed the lead so much that he had some hopes of assailing it successfully with his feet. He was now, therefore, obliged to retreat again and change his position, so that he again projected his feet till they came in contact with the bar. Having fixed himself firmly in the place by means of his arms, that he might bring all his force to bear against it, he was about to strike violently at it with the soles of his feet when he remembered that the sound might be heard below. His situation made him fertile in expedients. He slipped forward a part of the blanket, and, adjusting two or three folds of it over the bar, he began to drive his feet furiously against it. It gradually gave way before them, and then it suddenly yielded entirely. He ceased working for an instant, and, to his no small alarm, heard a piece of the stone he had driven off fall in the court-yard below. He listened anxiously for a time, but no alarm seemed to have been excited. He again felt at the bar with his feet, and recommencing his attack upon it, after a succession of hard blows, he bent it so far outwards as to leave no doubt that he could pass himself through the aperture.Commending himself to God, then, he slipped himself forward, and, committing his weight gently to the rope, he began his descent by shifting his hands alternately and slowly one below the other, always pulling out more and more of the coil of rope as he wanted it, until, the end of it being unwound, it fell perpendicularly below him. Still he went on descending till, to his no small dismay, he found that he had reached the last foot of his length. For an instant he hung in awful doubt. He cast his eyes below, but the night was so dark that the ground beneath was invisible, and he could not possibly calculate the height that yet remained. He thought for a few moments; and finally, resigning himself to the care of Providence, he loosened his grasp of the rope and fell. His fall was dreadful, and his death would have been certain had not his descent been interrupted by a fortunate circumstance. The blanket he had wrapped round him caught in the branches of a yew tree growing close to the wall, and although it did not keep its hold, yet the force of the fall was so much broken that he escaped comparatively uninjured.He lay stunned for some moments under the tree; and then, recovering himself, he was about to rise, when, reflecting that[156]he must proceed with caution, he crept silently forth from his covert, and listened to hear if there was any one stirring. All was quiet. He then moved forward, and dark as the night was, he could yet perceive the outer walls and towers of the building rising against the pale glimmer of the sky. His first step was to steal around the base of the keep, that he might reconnoitre it in all directions; and, as he did so, he passed by its entrance, which he found open. Wishing to examine farther, he went on listening, but all was silent around. At length, as he moved onwards to another side of the building, he descried a light breaking from a loop-hole window near the foundation of the keep, and heard the sound of human voices, with now and then a peal of boisterous laughter. He approached with extreme caution and silence, until he was near enough to see and hear all that passed within.The place he looked down into appeared to be a sort of cellar, being surrounded with huge barrels placed against the walls, near one of which, on an inverted tub, sat the old jailor, Daniel Throckle, with a great wooden stoup of ale on his knee, and with no small quantity of the fumes of the same fluid in his brain, as was evident from the manner in which his eyes ogled in his head. Almost close by him stood a good-looking wench in conversation with him; and the group was lighted by a clumsy iron lamp placed on the top of one of the largest of the tuns.“Coum, coum, Daeniel Throckle,” said the girl, “thee hast had enow o’ that strong stuff; that stoup but accloyeth thee. Blessed Mary! but thine eyes do look most fearsome askaunce already.”“Nay, nay, my bellebone,” replied Throckle, “I mun ha’ a wee drop more yet. Coum, now, do sit thee down, and be buxom a bit—a—a—. Thee knawest—a—that I loves thee dearly—he! he! he! Sit thee down, I say—a—a; sit thee down, my soft, my soote virginal!—By St. Cuthbert, there be not a he that yalt the gate through sun and weet—a—a—that—a—a—he! he! he!—that loveth thee more than I do.—Sit thee down, I say—a—a—and troll a roundel with me. Here ye, now, do but—a—a—do but join thy sweet voice with mine.—Nay then, an thou wont, I mun e’en—a—a—sing by mysell—a—a—O I am the manThat can empty a can,And fill it again and again, ah!A—a—And empty and fill,And the barley-juice swill,Till a tun of the liquor I drain, ah![157]A—a—Then it lightens mine eye,And my liard jokes fly,And warms my old blood into pleasure,A—a—Then out comes my song,Trolling glibly a—along,And merrily clinks in the measure.Oh—a—a—a—And then should I seeA sweet pusell like thee,She catches mine eye, as I cock it;And then at her, gadzooks!I throw such winning looks,As soon turn both of hers in the socket.A murrain on’t! how should I forget the rest on’t!So then I—a—a—then—aThe red fiend catch, it, for I can’t!—So, my bonnie mistress, Betty Burrel, do thee—a—do thee sit thee down here, whiles I but drink this single can of double ale; and, sin’ we canna sing the rest o’ the stave—a—a—sit thee down, and let me kiss thee.”“Na, na, Daeniel Throckle,” said the girl; “thee knawest thou’rt ower auld for me—thou’rt ower auld to be mate o’ mine”———“Ower auld!—a—a—thou scoffing—thou scoffing giglet thou!” cried Throckle; “thou’ll find me—a—kinder—a—thou’lt find me kinder at least than that cross-grained, haughty knave, Ralpho Proudfoot. A pestilent rascal!—Thou knawest—a—a—a—thou knawest, I say, how ill he used thee—a—but last night—no farther gone. Did he not beat thee—a—yestreen—a—till he made thee rout out like any Laverdale cow, when—a—she hath been driven—a—across the Border—a—and hath left her calf behind her?”“In troth, Daeniel Throckle,” said the wench, “he did use me hard enow, that’s certain, now when a’s done. But rise thee up, Daeniel. Bethink thee, thou’rt a’ that be left to guard the Castle, and it be na mysel, and auld Harry Haddon standing sentry at the yett. Ise warrant he’s asleep or this time:—And what ’ud coum o’ us an the prisoners were to break out?”“Phoo!” said Daniel, sticking one arm akimbo, and assuming the most ridiculous air of importance—“Phoo! I would not care that—a—a—snap of my finger, look you now, for—a—a—for the whole bunch of ’em. A stout, able-bodied—a—courageous—a—warlikesome—a—Southron like me—well fortified and charged with potent double ale—against three lousy Scottish louns! Phoo! I’d put ’em all down with my thumb. But—a—a—but look ye here, my bonnie Betty Burrel; here they are[158]—a—a—all safe at my girdle. This mockel knave here,” continued he, laying hold of the keys that hung from his belt, “this mockel knave—a—I call Goliath; he—a—a—he locks me up and maketh me sicker—a—the tall dark wight—a—that hath been put in durance in the hanging vault at the top o’ the keep: he’s—a—he’s fast enow, I warrant thee, and, ha! ha! ha! hath got jolly company with him, I wot. Poor Tim Ord, thou knawest—a—was strung up for traiterie; and ha! ha! ha!—sure I canna help loffen to but think on’t; ha! ha! ha! ha! he hangs yonder aside the poor Scottish Knight they took yestreen—a bonnie jolly comrade for him to spend the night wi’, I trow.”“Poor Tim Ord!” said the girl, “thou gar’st mine heart creep to think hoo hasty they waur wi’ ’im.”“Hasty,” cried Throckle, “ay, I trow, he lay not among his straw an hour—a—till Wat Withe and his mates broke his dreams, to send him to a sounder sleep, ha! ha! ha! But—a—a—’tis the gate, wench—a—’tis the gate that a’ sike traitorous faitours should yede them.”“But what key is that other wi’ the queer courbed handle?” inquired the curious Betty Burrel.“Wilt thou—a—a—wilt thou gie me a buss, then, and I’ll tell thee?” said Throckle.Betty Burrel advanced her head within his reach. Old Throckle kissed her, and endeavoured to detain her, but, after some little romping, she escaped.“Tell me now,” said she, “sin I gied thee the kiss.”“That courbe—hafted key,” said Throckle, lifting it up; “that—a—a—I call—a—a—a—I call Crooked-hold-him-fast: he locks the donjon vault at the end of the passage—a—the passage aneath the stair. There—a—there lies the tway rogues wha were cotched i’ the same trap wi’ the wight in the hanging vault. This third key—a—this here is called Nicholas-nimble-touch: he—a—he openeth the range of vaults on the north side. They are tenantless; but an the Knight and his bandon have good luck, they may be filled ere the morn’s night. This—a—this other key—a—I call Will-whirl-i’-the-wards—a: he opens—a—opens the dark vault i’ the middle, in which—a—in which is the mouth o’ the donjon pit.”“An’ what be that sma’ tiny key?” said Betty Burrel.“That,” said Trockle, “that—a—a—that is merry Mrs. Margery-of-the-mousetrap, though—a—a—that is but an ill-bestowed name, seeing that—a—a—it be’s more of a bird-cage, I wot. But—a—a—Mrs. Margery keeps—she—a—she keeps the door—a—the door of the ladies’ room—the ladies’ room off[159]the passage—a—the passage leading to the hall, them knawest—a—thou knawest there be’s a linnet bird there encaged. The Knight—a—the Knight can’t at no rate make her warble—a—warble as he would ha’ her. But she’s but new caught—a—and she may sing another measure—a—ay, ay, and dance too, when he comes back again. Nay, but now I ha’ told thee all—a—sweet Mistress Betty Burrel—a—sweet Betty, sit thee down—a—a—a—and sing—a—a—sing one roundel. Coum! here’s to thy health, my—a—a—my bonny blossom.”He put the wooden stoup to his head, and drained it to the bottom.“A—a—” said he then, attempting to rise and lay hold of Betty; “a—a—coum—a—a—sit thee—a—a—a—sit thee down—sit thee down—a—one roundel—one kiss—a—a—.”“Nay, nay,” cried Betty Burrel, moving off; “I maun to my bed i’ the kitchen, Master Throckle; I be wearisome tired and sleepy.”“Now, see,” cried Throckle, standing up, “now see—a—see what it is—a—see what it is to be between liquor and love—a. Wise as thou art, Master Daniel Throckle, thou be’st but as the ass i’ the fable between the tway haycocks—a.—Shalt thou after the Rownsyvall jade now?—or shalt thou—a—shalt thou have one stoup more—ay—one stoup more?—Daniel, one stoup more will make thee—a—will make thee—a—one stoup the stouter. Coum, then—a.”He opened the spigot, and, holding the stoup with both hands, tried to catch the ale as it spouted forth, gallons of it spilling on the floor for the drops that entered the mouth of the vessel.“A murrain—a—a—a murrain on it, I say—a. May I die—a—die of thirst—a—if the barrel be not dronkelew—a. It canna—a—a—it canna stand fast—a—a—stand fast only till I—a—a—till I fill mine stoup—a—a. But hold!—a—a—hold, I say—it runs over now—a—a—over now like a fountain. Oh! I am the man—a—a—to empty a can—a—a—and fill it—a—a—(hiccup)—fill it again and again—ah!—a—a—so here goes.”And, leaving the spigot to run as it might, he put the stoup to his head, and drinking it out, staggered forward a step or two towards the door, and, losing his feet and his balance at the same moment, fell backwards with a tremendous crash on the pavement, where he lay senseless in a sea of ale that deluged the floor.[160]
The time passed slowly and heavily until within about an hour of nightfall, when steps were again distinctly heard approaching Assueton’s prison. Much to his relief, however, they seemed to be those of a single person; something was put down on the pavement on the outside; the bolts were tardily withdrawn, and the great head of Daniel Throckle alone appeared through the partially opened door, as if to ascertain in what part of the chamber his prisoner was, ere he should venture farther. Seeing Assueton seated as formerly, on the straw, he hastily pushed within the door-way vessels containing food and drink, as before, and instantly retreating, turned the bolts behind him, and departed without uttering a word.
Now Assueton’s hopes beat high, and again on his knees he returned his fervent thanks to Heaven. He then determined to avail himself of the small portion of day-light which yet remained, to make everything ready for his escape.
Disgusting and revolting as it had been to him, on the first discovery of the murdered body, that it should have been left as his nightly and daily companion, he had now good reason to be glad that it had been so; for even if its removal had not occasioned the discovery of his appropriation of the coil of rope, without it he could have had no means of reaching the ring in the centre of the vault, the only thing within it to which he could have attached the end of his rope, and it would have been there only to have mocked his hopes.
After he had succeeded in making it fast, he had still an appalling difficulty before him; for the window was so high above the floor of the vault that it was quite beyond all reach. There was, to be sure, a small fragment of rusty iron, that projected an inch or two from the centre of the sole of it, like the decayed remains of a stanchion, that had once divided the space vertically within; but it was little better than a knob. It yet remained to be proved, therefore, whether he should succeed in throwing a part of his rope over this frail pin of iron, so as to furnish him with the means of pulling himself up to the window; and he lost no time in making the experiment. But this, so[154]absolutely essential part of his operations, he found most difficult to effect. He threw, cast, and jerked the rope, trying every possible way he could think of; but the piece of iron was so short that, although he often succeeded in throwing the rope over it, he could never manage to make it hold. The day-light ebbed away fast, and still he laboured, but without success. At length he grew desperate, and threw the rope up time after time with mad and senseless rapidity. It became darker and darker till pitchy night closed in, yet still he persevered in throwing furiously and at random; but it was the perseverance of despair, all attempt at skill being utterly abandoned. At length, when he had almost become frantic, it caught as he pulled back after an accidental throw; he felt it hold against him, and keeping it down to the floor tight with one foot, to prevent it from slipping, he laid the whole weight of the coil upon it, and then, dropping on his knees, returned thanks to Heaven for his success. It was but a small matter throwing a coil of rope over a projecting fragment of iron; yet on that trifle depended all his hopes, for by means of that small piece of iron alone could he escape.
He now sat him down on the coil to wait patiently for the hour when he might think it safe to make his bold attempt.
Judging at length that the night was sufficiently far advanced for his purpose, he offered up a prayer for divine aid and protection, and tying the blanket of the bed around him in case of need, laid hold of the rope and hoisted himself up by his arms, until he had reached the window. Having lodged himself fairly in its aperture, he discovered that the wall was at least six or eight feet thick. He now laid himself on his side, with his feet hanging inwards, and by slow degrees pulled up the rope, until he got the whole coil deposited safely within the small area of the window. The space was barely sufficient to admit of his creeping easily through. Altering his position, therefore, and advancing his feet, he wormed himself forward, when, just as he expected to thrust them into the open air, he felt them suddenly arrested by a vertical bar of iron. His heart was chilled by its touch. He tried the width of the vacancies on either side of it, but neither afforded space enough to admit of the passage of his body.
Much disheartened by this unexpected obstruction, he withdrew himself, and with great difficulty again changed his position, and advanced head foremost until he brought his hands near enough the bar to feel it all over. It was much decayed by rust, but yet by far too strong to be broken by the mere force of his[155]arm. After a little consideration, he drew his dagger, and making use of its point, worked away the lead and the stone where the lower end of the stanchion was inserted; and after labouring unceasingly for a considerable time, he found he had weakened the stone and removed the lead so much that he had some hopes of assailing it successfully with his feet. He was now, therefore, obliged to retreat again and change his position, so that he again projected his feet till they came in contact with the bar. Having fixed himself firmly in the place by means of his arms, that he might bring all his force to bear against it, he was about to strike violently at it with the soles of his feet when he remembered that the sound might be heard below. His situation made him fertile in expedients. He slipped forward a part of the blanket, and, adjusting two or three folds of it over the bar, he began to drive his feet furiously against it. It gradually gave way before them, and then it suddenly yielded entirely. He ceased working for an instant, and, to his no small alarm, heard a piece of the stone he had driven off fall in the court-yard below. He listened anxiously for a time, but no alarm seemed to have been excited. He again felt at the bar with his feet, and recommencing his attack upon it, after a succession of hard blows, he bent it so far outwards as to leave no doubt that he could pass himself through the aperture.
Commending himself to God, then, he slipped himself forward, and, committing his weight gently to the rope, he began his descent by shifting his hands alternately and slowly one below the other, always pulling out more and more of the coil of rope as he wanted it, until, the end of it being unwound, it fell perpendicularly below him. Still he went on descending till, to his no small dismay, he found that he had reached the last foot of his length. For an instant he hung in awful doubt. He cast his eyes below, but the night was so dark that the ground beneath was invisible, and he could not possibly calculate the height that yet remained. He thought for a few moments; and finally, resigning himself to the care of Providence, he loosened his grasp of the rope and fell. His fall was dreadful, and his death would have been certain had not his descent been interrupted by a fortunate circumstance. The blanket he had wrapped round him caught in the branches of a yew tree growing close to the wall, and although it did not keep its hold, yet the force of the fall was so much broken that he escaped comparatively uninjured.
He lay stunned for some moments under the tree; and then, recovering himself, he was about to rise, when, reflecting that[156]he must proceed with caution, he crept silently forth from his covert, and listened to hear if there was any one stirring. All was quiet. He then moved forward, and dark as the night was, he could yet perceive the outer walls and towers of the building rising against the pale glimmer of the sky. His first step was to steal around the base of the keep, that he might reconnoitre it in all directions; and, as he did so, he passed by its entrance, which he found open. Wishing to examine farther, he went on listening, but all was silent around. At length, as he moved onwards to another side of the building, he descried a light breaking from a loop-hole window near the foundation of the keep, and heard the sound of human voices, with now and then a peal of boisterous laughter. He approached with extreme caution and silence, until he was near enough to see and hear all that passed within.
The place he looked down into appeared to be a sort of cellar, being surrounded with huge barrels placed against the walls, near one of which, on an inverted tub, sat the old jailor, Daniel Throckle, with a great wooden stoup of ale on his knee, and with no small quantity of the fumes of the same fluid in his brain, as was evident from the manner in which his eyes ogled in his head. Almost close by him stood a good-looking wench in conversation with him; and the group was lighted by a clumsy iron lamp placed on the top of one of the largest of the tuns.
“Coum, coum, Daeniel Throckle,” said the girl, “thee hast had enow o’ that strong stuff; that stoup but accloyeth thee. Blessed Mary! but thine eyes do look most fearsome askaunce already.”
“Nay, nay, my bellebone,” replied Throckle, “I mun ha’ a wee drop more yet. Coum, now, do sit thee down, and be buxom a bit—a—a—. Thee knawest—a—that I loves thee dearly—he! he! he! Sit thee down, I say—a—a; sit thee down, my soft, my soote virginal!—By St. Cuthbert, there be not a he that yalt the gate through sun and weet—a—a—that—a—a—he! he! he!—that loveth thee more than I do.—Sit thee down, I say—a—a—and troll a roundel with me. Here ye, now, do but—a—a—do but join thy sweet voice with mine.—Nay then, an thou wont, I mun e’en—a—a—sing by mysell—a—a—
O I am the manThat can empty a can,And fill it again and again, ah!A—a—And empty and fill,And the barley-juice swill,Till a tun of the liquor I drain, ah![157]A—a—Then it lightens mine eye,And my liard jokes fly,And warms my old blood into pleasure,A—a—Then out comes my song,Trolling glibly a—along,And merrily clinks in the measure.Oh—a—a—a—And then should I seeA sweet pusell like thee,She catches mine eye, as I cock it;And then at her, gadzooks!I throw such winning looks,As soon turn both of hers in the socket.
O I am the manThat can empty a can,And fill it again and again, ah!A—a—And empty and fill,And the barley-juice swill,Till a tun of the liquor I drain, ah!
O I am the man
That can empty a can,
And fill it again and again, ah!
A—a—And empty and fill,
And the barley-juice swill,
Till a tun of the liquor I drain, ah!
[157]
A—a—Then it lightens mine eye,And my liard jokes fly,And warms my old blood into pleasure,A—a—Then out comes my song,Trolling glibly a—along,And merrily clinks in the measure.
A—a—Then it lightens mine eye,
And my liard jokes fly,
And warms my old blood into pleasure,
A—a—Then out comes my song,
Trolling glibly a—along,
And merrily clinks in the measure.
Oh—a—a—a—And then should I seeA sweet pusell like thee,She catches mine eye, as I cock it;And then at her, gadzooks!I throw such winning looks,As soon turn both of hers in the socket.
Oh—a—a—a—And then should I see
A sweet pusell like thee,
She catches mine eye, as I cock it;
And then at her, gadzooks!
I throw such winning looks,
As soon turn both of hers in the socket.
A murrain on’t! how should I forget the rest on’t!
So then I—a—a—then—a
So then I—a—a—then—a
The red fiend catch, it, for I can’t!—So, my bonnie mistress, Betty Burrel, do thee—a—do thee sit thee down here, whiles I but drink this single can of double ale; and, sin’ we canna sing the rest o’ the stave—a—a—sit thee down, and let me kiss thee.”
“Na, na, Daeniel Throckle,” said the girl; “thee knawest thou’rt ower auld for me—thou’rt ower auld to be mate o’ mine”———
“Ower auld!—a—a—thou scoffing—thou scoffing giglet thou!” cried Throckle; “thou’ll find me—a—kinder—a—thou’lt find me kinder at least than that cross-grained, haughty knave, Ralpho Proudfoot. A pestilent rascal!—Thou knawest—a—a—a—thou knawest, I say, how ill he used thee—a—but last night—no farther gone. Did he not beat thee—a—yestreen—a—till he made thee rout out like any Laverdale cow, when—a—she hath been driven—a—across the Border—a—and hath left her calf behind her?”
“In troth, Daeniel Throckle,” said the wench, “he did use me hard enow, that’s certain, now when a’s done. But rise thee up, Daeniel. Bethink thee, thou’rt a’ that be left to guard the Castle, and it be na mysel, and auld Harry Haddon standing sentry at the yett. Ise warrant he’s asleep or this time:—And what ’ud coum o’ us an the prisoners were to break out?”
“Phoo!” said Daniel, sticking one arm akimbo, and assuming the most ridiculous air of importance—“Phoo! I would not care that—a—a—snap of my finger, look you now, for—a—a—for the whole bunch of ’em. A stout, able-bodied—a—courageous—a—warlikesome—a—Southron like me—well fortified and charged with potent double ale—against three lousy Scottish louns! Phoo! I’d put ’em all down with my thumb. But—a—a—but look ye here, my bonnie Betty Burrel; here they are[158]—a—a—all safe at my girdle. This mockel knave here,” continued he, laying hold of the keys that hung from his belt, “this mockel knave—a—I call Goliath; he—a—a—he locks me up and maketh me sicker—a—the tall dark wight—a—that hath been put in durance in the hanging vault at the top o’ the keep: he’s—a—he’s fast enow, I warrant thee, and, ha! ha! ha! hath got jolly company with him, I wot. Poor Tim Ord, thou knawest—a—was strung up for traiterie; and ha! ha! ha!—sure I canna help loffen to but think on’t; ha! ha! ha! ha! he hangs yonder aside the poor Scottish Knight they took yestreen—a bonnie jolly comrade for him to spend the night wi’, I trow.”
“Poor Tim Ord!” said the girl, “thou gar’st mine heart creep to think hoo hasty they waur wi’ ’im.”
“Hasty,” cried Throckle, “ay, I trow, he lay not among his straw an hour—a—till Wat Withe and his mates broke his dreams, to send him to a sounder sleep, ha! ha! ha! But—a—a—’tis the gate, wench—a—’tis the gate that a’ sike traitorous faitours should yede them.”
“But what key is that other wi’ the queer courbed handle?” inquired the curious Betty Burrel.
“Wilt thou—a—a—wilt thou gie me a buss, then, and I’ll tell thee?” said Throckle.
Betty Burrel advanced her head within his reach. Old Throckle kissed her, and endeavoured to detain her, but, after some little romping, she escaped.
“Tell me now,” said she, “sin I gied thee the kiss.”
“That courbe—hafted key,” said Throckle, lifting it up; “that—a—a—I call—a—a—a—I call Crooked-hold-him-fast: he locks the donjon vault at the end of the passage—a—the passage aneath the stair. There—a—there lies the tway rogues wha were cotched i’ the same trap wi’ the wight in the hanging vault. This third key—a—this here is called Nicholas-nimble-touch: he—a—he openeth the range of vaults on the north side. They are tenantless; but an the Knight and his bandon have good luck, they may be filled ere the morn’s night. This—a—this other key—a—I call Will-whirl-i’-the-wards—a: he opens—a—opens the dark vault i’ the middle, in which—a—in which is the mouth o’ the donjon pit.”
“An’ what be that sma’ tiny key?” said Betty Burrel.
“That,” said Trockle, “that—a—a—that is merry Mrs. Margery-of-the-mousetrap, though—a—a—that is but an ill-bestowed name, seeing that—a—a—it be’s more of a bird-cage, I wot. But—a—a—Mrs. Margery keeps—she—a—she keeps the door—a—the door of the ladies’ room—the ladies’ room off[159]the passage—a—the passage leading to the hall, them knawest—a—thou knawest there be’s a linnet bird there encaged. The Knight—a—the Knight can’t at no rate make her warble—a—warble as he would ha’ her. But she’s but new caught—a—and she may sing another measure—a—ay, ay, and dance too, when he comes back again. Nay, but now I ha’ told thee all—a—sweet Mistress Betty Burrel—a—sweet Betty, sit thee down—a—a—a—and sing—a—a—sing one roundel. Coum! here’s to thy health, my—a—a—my bonny blossom.”
He put the wooden stoup to his head, and drained it to the bottom.
“A—a—” said he then, attempting to rise and lay hold of Betty; “a—a—coum—a—a—sit thee—a—a—a—sit thee down—sit thee down—a—one roundel—one kiss—a—a—.”
“Nay, nay,” cried Betty Burrel, moving off; “I maun to my bed i’ the kitchen, Master Throckle; I be wearisome tired and sleepy.”
“Now, see,” cried Throckle, standing up, “now see—a—see what it is—a—see what it is to be between liquor and love—a. Wise as thou art, Master Daniel Throckle, thou be’st but as the ass i’ the fable between the tway haycocks—a.—Shalt thou after the Rownsyvall jade now?—or shalt thou—a—shalt thou have one stoup more—ay—one stoup more?—Daniel, one stoup more will make thee—a—will make thee—a—one stoup the stouter. Coum, then—a.”
He opened the spigot, and, holding the stoup with both hands, tried to catch the ale as it spouted forth, gallons of it spilling on the floor for the drops that entered the mouth of the vessel.
“A murrain—a—a—a murrain on it, I say—a. May I die—a—die of thirst—a—if the barrel be not dronkelew—a. It canna—a—a—it canna stand fast—a—a—stand fast only till I—a—a—till I fill mine stoup—a—a. But hold!—a—a—hold, I say—it runs over now—a—a—over now like a fountain. Oh! I am the man—a—a—to empty a can—a—a—and fill it—a—a—(hiccup)—fill it again and again—ah!—a—a—so here goes.”
And, leaving the spigot to run as it might, he put the stoup to his head, and drinking it out, staggered forward a step or two towards the door, and, losing his feet and his balance at the same moment, fell backwards with a tremendous crash on the pavement, where he lay senseless in a sea of ale that deluged the floor.[160]