CHAPTER LVII.
THE COLONEL’S PLANS SUCCEED—THE SPY AND MESSENGER.
When Ned Warbeck had left his uncle’s house to go and visit the palace, he was not aware that all his actions had been watched.
Yet they had been.
Colonel Blood was a man of too much influence about the king’s court not to have a number of spies and informers in his employ.
When, therefore, he was returning from the scene at the Block House, disheartened and annoyed, he met with a person who recognised him.
“Who hails me in the public streets at this time of the morning?” asked Blood, in a surly tone.
“A friend,” was the reply.
“Approach, and speak, then,” said the colonel, in a haughty tone.
The stranger stepped forward towards Blood, and in an instant he was recognized by the colonel as one of his spies, an old gentlemanly-looking Jew.
“What news to-night, Barnabas?” asked the colonel.
“Good news!” answered the Jew.
“And what is that, pray?”
“I have been watching the doings of Ned Warbeck, his goings and comings, as you told me to do a month ago.”
“Well, and with what success? Have you discovered anything?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“What?”
“Why, I saw him and a young naval officer not more than half an hour ago, hand as pretty a lady out of a carriage as ever man’s eyes rested upon.”
“Indeed! are you certain?”
“I am; and, more than that, old Sir Richard conducted her into the mansion with much politeness and ceremony.
“You did not, of course, learn her name?”
“I did. I heard Ned Warbeck and his companion conversing together for a moment after she had gone into the house.”
“Where were you then?”
“Hiding in a doorway.”
“And what said they?”
“Ned Warbeck swore that the maid should be restored to her father without a moment’s delay; that she should start that very night to Darlington.”
“Good!” said Blood; “fortune favors me still. I know the rest, and need not ask her name. It was Ellen Harmer.”
“The very same,” answered Barnabas.
“I thought so.”
“But how could you have known that, colonel. I did not see you in the neighbourhood until now?”
“I know it; but, nevertheless, I am perfectly aware of the fair one’s name, she has given me a vast amount of anxiety and trouble of late.”
“Indeed! then I am fortunate in having made the discovery.”
“Yes, Barnabas, you are. But, mark me, that girl must never be restored to her father.”
“I do not understand you,” said the Jew.
“I mean that she must never be allowed to return to her native village of Darlington. She has escaped from my protection, Barnabas, and I must have her back again, or else many unpleasant things might come to light.”
“But how can you prevent it?”
“Easily enough. Have they posted off with the girl already, think you?”
“I know not. I left Sir Richard’s mansion but half-an-hour ago, but Ned Warbeck seemed to be in such a hurry and flurry about the pretty wench that I have no doubt they will not lose any time in transporting her to Darlington again.”
“Fool that you were! Why did you not stop and watch Sir Richard’s mansion? In that case we could have been certain whether the wench had departed or not.”
“If I had done so, colonel, I should not have met you.”
“True; no matter. I can soon arrange the matter to my satisfaction.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“Are you a good horseman, Barnabas?”
“Yes, an excellent rider.”
“And can you disguise yourself well?”
“Yes, colonel, with any one in all England.”
“Do you know, then, where Darlington is?”
“Yes, well.”
“Then, on the instant, disguise yourself as anything you like—say a parson, for that character throws off most suspicion—disguise yourself, I say, and post off to Darlington as fast as horseflesh can carry you.”
“But I have no money.”
“You never have. I never knew a Jew in all my life who would ever confess to have more than sixpence if you wanted to borrow any without interest. Take this,” said Blood, “that will be sufficient for your purpose. If this wench is really on the road, watch her, and see where she goes to. If you do not find her on the road make your way to Darlington, and try to become friendly with her father, the old miller, and let me know from time to time how you get on and all you hear.”
Barnabas left the colonel on the instant, and for a moment Blood appeared to be deeply buried in thought.
“Ned Warbeck is out, eh? And there is no one of the family at home, save old Sir Richard and——Well, he isn’t much to think about, an old man like he is.”
In a short time Colonel Blood hit upon a cool manner of proceeding.
He directed his steps to a well-known gaming-house, where a company of genteel thieves and house-breakers were wont to assemble.
His presence did not excite any surprise, for he was often seen in such company.
In a short time, to use his own words “he gave the wink” to three or four of the better dressed, and left the place as if he had no other object than to lounge away half an hour or so.
Four well-dressed fellows followed him.
“Hello, my lads! are you up to any little game to-night?”
“No, colonel.”
“But are you ‘game’ to join me in a lark?”
“Of course we are. What is it?”
“There is a very pretty girl just gone into Sir Richard Warbeck’s mansion, and I want to get her into my possession as cleverly as possible.”
“Just so. And how do you intend to proceed?”
“Have you got any masks with you?”
“Yes; we have not long returned from a masque ball.”
“All right, then, we will call a carriage, and when we approach Sir Richard’s house, you four get out and hide the carriage round the corner. I will enter the mansion as if on business, and take good care to leave the door ajar. While I am talking to the old knight about his nephew, Ned, and the wild freaks he has been playing about town of late, you four enter, put on your masks, and if this pretty wench is not taken from the old knight’s abode in less thanten minutes, without noise, without causing any alarm or hubbub among the servants, I will have every one of you transported.”
So saying, the carriage they had hired drew up round the corner, and Colonel Blood stepped forward toward the house.
He knocked and rang loudly, and it was some time before the door was opened.
At length it was unlocked and opened by no less a person than Tim, the groom.
Directly he saw Colonel Blood, he would have run away, but the colonel seized him by the throat, and gave the unlucky youth such a shake as made his limbs to curl up like shavings.
“Make any noise, and I’ll choke you, villain,” said the colonel. “Where is your master!”
“Which master?” Tim groaned.
“Old Sir Richard.”
“He is in the parlour, talking to a young lady who is sick.”
“Take in this card, then, and be quick.”
While Tim was gone, Blood opened the door ajar.
His four confederates noiselessly entered, and hid themselves for a moment on the kitchen stairs, until they should have ascertained where Ellen Harmer’s apartment was.
“Colonel Blood!” said old Sir Richard, in much surprise, as he walked into the hall. “May I ask your business with me? it must be of some great consequence, or you would not have called at this unreasonable hour?”
“I would not, Sir Richard—my information is of the utmost importance to you, and brooks no delay.”
“Come this way then, colonel; I will not ask you into my breakfast parlor, for I have a fair young woman there, who has been lying insensible for the last hour or more.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, it is a painful story, as far as I can understand; but come this way, colonel, into the dining room. Tim, go down to the cellar and bring a bottle of wine for the colonel.”
“Yes, Sir Richard,” said Tim, and off he went towards the cellar with great glee, for it must be confessed Master Tim was seldom sent to the wine cellar without helping himself to the very best advantages.
He had not got further than the kitchen stairs, however, when an ominous squeak was heard like that of some unlucky rat who has shoved his head into a steel trap.
“Be ye men or devils! Have mercy on a poor unfortunate youth, who was born to be kicked and cuffed like a dog by every one.”
“Silence!” said Blood’s confederates, “or we will kill you.”
They instantly gagged and bound Master Tim, and for fear he should be in the way or give any trouble, they opened a window and pitched the poor groom into a dust-hole beneath, like a bundle of rags.
Quicker than can be described, the four men stealthily entered the breakfast parlour, closed the door again, and perceived Ellen Harmer lying on a couch, attended by two old nurses.
When the four masked men made their sudden and noiseless appearance in the room, one of the nurses frantically clutched her gin bottle, took a hasty drink, and pretended to swoon.
The other, who was an old maid of fifty, seized the poker, and made a brave stand to defend her virtue from the intruders.
But finding that none so much as even attempted to kiss her, she felt disgusted, disconsolate, and fainted, kicking up her heels high in the air.
In less than three minutes, the four masked men had secured and bore away Ellen Harmer without alarming the household.
Colonel Blood’s quick ears could hear the distant rumbling of heavy wheels, and he felt satisfied that his men had done their work cleverly and completely.
“But what is your business with me, colonel?” asked Sir Richard.
“There has been a dreadful commotion to-night. Phillip Redgill, I hear, is killed.”
“Killed!—how?—by whom?”
“Yes, killed, I understand, in a brawl or a fight, or a duel, or something of that sort, by young Ned Warbeck.”
“Impossible!”
“Nay, ’tis too true, Sir Richard; the information only just reached me, and I thought it was my bounden duty to inform you.”
“Thanks, colonel; but how could this have come to pass? I cannot understand it. I know that Phillip Redgill’s character of late has been bad, very bad indeed, but I never thought it would have come to this. Killed by Ned Warbeck, too—shocking, sir, shocking. I always thought that something of this sort would happen, for they hated each other since boyhood. But in what manner did all this happen, colonel? Let me hear the particulars.”
Colonel Blood was about to tell him all he knew, when a great row took place in the house, which stopped the conversation.
“What is that noise?” asked old Sir Richard.
“I know not,” said Blood, coolly.
“Murder, thieves, robbers, burglars, seducers, villains!” screamed the two nurses locked in the room.
They kicked at the door, and made such a terrible hubbub, that it aroused all the servants in the house, who came clamouring to the spot in hot haste.
“Open the door, open the door!” screamed the two nurses, jumping about inside; “thieves, murderers, seducers—help, help!”
The door was quickly opened, and one of the nurses thought proper to enact a little scene on her own account, and therefore fainted right in Blood’s arms.
The colonel was disgusted with his burden, and let her fall upon the floor again, rather heavily.
“The girl gone?” said Sir Richard.
“Yes, four men came in upon us—oh, oh, oh!—ho-o-o!”
“All in masks—oh, ho-o-o!”
“Wanted to take liberties with us—ho-o-o!”
“But we wouldn’t let ’em.”
“They snatched up my lady.”
“And drank all the wines and spirits.”
“They had all black faces.”
“Masks, I suppose,” said Blood, coolly.
“Yes, sir; masks, dark lanterns, and daggers. Oh, it was a mercy both on us weren’t killed.”
“And which way did they go?”
“Can’t tell, sir.”
“I must see to this at once,” said Blood; “this outrage is too great to be endured.”
“Do,” said Sir Richard; “do, colonel, the girl must not be borne away from my house in this manner.”
“You speak and look as ifIhad had something to do with the affair, Sir Richard.”
“Whatever I think is my own business, Colonel Blood; but believe me I shall inform the king of allI know and suspect, and shall attend the levée next Thursday for that special purpose.”
Blood blustered out some angry words, and left the mansion, pretending to be in a great rage with “those villainous rascals” who had stolen the girl away.
Yet when he got into the open air again he could not but laugh heartily at the success of his plans.
He went towards the palace, and there it was that he encountered Ned Warbeck, Lieutenant Garnet, and Bob Bertram, of which we have spoken in another place.
But what became of Barnabas the Jew the next chapter will show.