The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 2

by Johannes Scotus

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  _Ghost._--"Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold."

  _Hamlet._--"Speak, I am bound to hear."--_Hamlet._

  "Your Lordship," continued the old sailor, "when tired of Juanapensioned her off, gave her apartments in London, and a handsomeallowance, provided she would never more seek after or speak to youagain. You then went to Scotland, and soon after your arrival there MissRavensworth returned and met you. I was sent by the Captain to hire thePeel of Cessford as a house in which Juana might reside, and Sir RichardMusgrave was enrolled as a conspirator also.

  "The Captain, L'Estrange, and he, had an interview with Juana: the twoformer left for Scotland to visit your Lordship; Sir Richard and thegirl followed. Our second plan was to let Miss Ravensworth believe youwere married, and if she would not credit it show Juana. L'Estrangecalled on the young lady and hinted it, even showed your letters toJuana, but she would not read them; indeed, she destroyed them, andseemed rather to love you the better, as many girls do love unsteady menwith the hope of reforming them. Whilst I and the girl Juana were atCessford's Peel, a picnic, or some such mummery, was made to the ruins,and the Captain, though very angry at it at first, tried to turn themischance to good account.

  "Juana was dressed as an Italian minstrel and taught a part to play; itwas thought likely you would, with your usual hospitality, give her ashelter at the Towers, and L'Estrange was then to show Miss Ravensworthhow false you were to her, in harbouring the girl thus in disguise,whilst paying her attentions. This plan was overthrown in a curious way;Juana followed you and the lady up the wood to a cave, where she heardyou propose, and Miss Ravensworth accept, on the condition you neverafterwards spoke to _her_. I said she was deluded by a false hope ofbecoming a Countess: now she saw things in a new light, and absolutelyrefused to go to the Towers. That night, after much trouble, the Captainprevailed on L'Estrange to try the third scheme: he was to disappearmysteriously, and a rumour to be got abroad he had met with foul play.Suspicion was to be thrown on Miss Ravensworth, and, under disguise ofofficers of the King, we were to carry her to Cessford's Peel, and forceher to marry L'Estrange. Sir Richard Musgrave acted his part well asofficer, and, as you know, she was carried off: I and Farmer Forbes andhis son played a part too as assistants. No clue would ever have beenfound, till we had terrified Miss Ravensworth into submission, had Juananot found out she was sister to her old lover, George Ravensworth. Shewent and betrayed us on the very night things were to be brought to anissue.

  "The Captain and I accompanied L'Estrange to the girl's room, and thenleft him to settle it with his sweetheart: it appeared he had littlefancy for it, and had made the preconcerted signal for assistance, whenthe Captain saw your Lordship and several others in sight! He and I fledby secret passages, and whilst I lay _cache_, he joined your party withthe utmost coolness, and assisted in binding L'Estrange, whispering himhe was true under false colours, as well as threatening Miss Ravensworthand Juana with his vengeance if they inculpated him. When L'Estrange wasin prison, the night before his trial the Captain visited his cell atmidnight, and gave him a file and rope to make his escape with, whilst Iand young Forbes waited for him in the Hunter's Bog; it was a terriblenight of thunder and lightning, but he made his escape, and that nighthe and I sailed for Germany. He was pretty hard up for money then, andnot long after he married a Polish lady, the Countess Czinsky, whosename he assumed. But he never loved her, and cared only for her money,and when the Captain, after having shot Musgrave, joined him, they bothleft for St. Petersburgh.

  "It was about this time Juana gave birth to a daughter, Leonora,--whobrought you here; she died soon after, and I often thought she had metwith foul play; this afternoon her murderer confessed he had poisonedher in revenge for her treachery--there he lies--he was a bad man! Aboutthe time of Christmas, a year afterwards, L'Estrange, still hankeringafter his old lady-love, hearing from Archy Forbes the Countess wasliving in retirement at the Towers, proposed reconnoitring, and ifpracticable carrying her off. The Captain did not much admire the plan,thinking it impossible, but we came across, and he rode up to see howmatters stood. The news had been false, the Towers were full, so weweighed sail, and were off in our schooner in the very dirtiest night ofsnow and storm I ever recollect. We had intended to go straight toNaples, but cruised down Africa, and getting aboard some Algerines,tried our hand at the slave trade a year or two, and took many a blackcargo across to the West Indies, but we grew sick o' that, and having agood ballast of shiners went to Italy. From that time the Captain andL'Estrange became brigands, and taking the name of Vardarelli, a namefamous, inspiring fear in every bosom, carried on a successful trade.This morning they made an attack on an Englishman going to visit yourLordship at Foggia, and carrying rich jewels. I have already told youthe rest."

  The old man ceased his narrative, and again took a long draught of wine.For some moments the Earl moved not nor spoke. Tumultuous thoughtsdisturbed his mind, and he scarce knew what to say, or how to expresshis surprise at thus listening to the long records of conspiracy, plot,and crime he had been exposed to by his nearest relatives. He felt nowinclined to disbelieve the whole story, now half doubting; and then hisposition,--the whole scene around seemed to verify the old man's tale.

  "Whoever you may really be," said the Earl, "your story is one of theblackest villanies I ever heard; the actors seem to have been alliedwith the Evil One. And yet, what proof have I this is not an ingeniouslydevised tale? I must have proofs."

  [H]"And you shall. Old Bill would but half have done his work had he noproofs,--there, my Lord (taking a bundle of papers), there lie theproofs. Those papers are signed by all the actors in my tale, and are noforgeries; you may examine them at your leisure."

  The Earl took the parcel and secreted it beneath his cloak; then, risingonce more, approached the mortal remains of John de Vere; once more helooked on the brother of his youth, and could scarce believe him capableof such atrocities. What a life had his been! The wild, cruel boy hadgrown up the careless, dare-devil, vicious, young man, the infamousdesperado whose power and malice terrified the whole of Southern Italy!But death pays all debts, says the poet, and even here it hid amultitude of sins. There were softer memories connected with thedeparted: He had been the child who had shared his childish amusements;the youth with whom he had hunted, ridden, and shot; the young man withwhom he shared many a scene of joy or danger. In these associations heforgot how, while he ate his bread, he had been intriguing against him;how he had plotted to procure his misery, and, by unparalleleddissimulation, seemed his friend whilst he was his worst foe,--despiteall, he was his brother still. The fixed eye, the pale brow, thelifeless face asked his pity; the tears started in the good Earl's eyesas he bent over all that was once John Captain de Vere, and it was sometime ere he could frame the question:--

  "At least you will allow me to procure Christian burial for my poorbrother?"

  "It is impossible," said old Bill; "by the rules of this band he must beburied here, with all our rites. You must forget you had a brother; hewill sleep as soundly here as in a marble tomb."

  "By what right do you deny me my proper power? Surely it rests with meto inter my own brother."

  "I know not by what right saving the right of might. You are not lordhere, but I am."

  "But, my fine fellow, I will soon assert my power; let me once get freefrom this accursed nest of robbers, and--"

  "But you will not get free, my Lord, till you have solemnly sworn youwill never divulge our hiding place, nor strive to find it out."

  "Your terms are hard, yet I have no resource but to submit to numbers,though I dare try you all had I fair play one by one."

  "You will not be put to the test, but, after you have taken the oath,will leave as you came, and need only think of all this as a wild dream.Your brothers need not trouble you; one is dead, and will be buried withdue pomp; the other is an outcast even from outcasts, and will knowbetter than to show his face in t
hese quarters."

  "You said my brother, as I must call Edward L'Estrange, married. Had heany family? For if he had, it would seriously affect my position. As itis, I must take the highest legal advice, and see if this is allreliable evidence."

  "You need not fear about your title or possessions; no son of EdwardL'Estrange's will ever trouble you."

  "Then he had no family?" said the Earl.

  "I never said so; but you're free to think what you will."

  "But tell me, had he a son, or daughter?"

  "I suppose I may tell what I please, and needn't tell what I don't."

  "But for God's sake tell me the truth!"

  "I never have told you aught but the truth."

  "I gain, from your unwillingness to tell me, he had a child; was themarriage an acknowledged one?"

  "The marriage was sure enough; there is the certificate with the papersI gave you; but as to whether they had children or not, you may eventhink what you will."

  Lord Wentworth, seeing he should gain nothing on this subject by furtherinquiry, dropped it, inwardly wondering at the old man's contumacy.

  "I have said my say," said Bill Stacy, "and now I have only to get youroath you will never by word or deed directly or indirectly betray ourretreat or ourselves, and you may go."

  "Old man," said the Earl, "I give my promise I will by no means directlyor indirectly betray either you, your comrades, or your den; but I donot pledge myself to make no inquiries about Edward L'Estrange."

  "You are quite free to do that, but I'll warrant you will scarce findhim. He is a sly fox is Edward L'Estrange, and won't put his head intothe snare if he knows it."

  "Then I am free to go, and you will at least allow me to return with mychild,--the unhappy child of her I so ill treated,--and let her bebrought up away from scenes and men ill suited to her age and sex."

  "You must promise more in that case. The girl shall pilot you back tothe place she brought you from; but she must then and there leave you.You must swear that also."

  "What! Am I not to have my way with my own child? You trespass on therights of nature, and because I am now in the power of evil men, exertan undue and mean advantage over me."

  "I am not here to argue whether it is right or not right. You are theprisoner here, and must abide by my terms if you wish your freedom. InScotland they say, 'He is a proud beggar who names his alms,' and he isa proud prisoner who makes his own terms, I may add."

  "On my soul this is enough to drive a man mad. Here I am, curbed andfettered on all sides--"

  "My Lord, you have too long been accustomed to rule, and to seeeverybody obey you. It is good to be under the yoke sometimes. Will youswear to abide by your promise neither to betray our resort, nor by anymeans win Leonora to follow you? Indeed the girl knows better than to doso, and if you tried to carry her off, neither your name, rank, norriches should save you; so I warn you not to try. Do you swear?"

  "I give my word I will not."

  "Nay, but you must swear."

  "Old man, were I capable of breaking my word, I were capable of breakingmy oath too!"

  "It matters not; you cannot leave without swearing."

  "Listen; a peer of England, even in Court, swears only by his honour.You little know the worth of a peer's word; his pledged, inviolate wordis the most solemn promise he can give. I give that, and my oath werenot a surer pledge."

  "I believe you. You may then go. Good night, my Lord. You will neveragain see me; but be sure of this, it was only the hospitality, thegoodness, and generosity of your character saved you too from falling avictim to my snares. I can see and approve the better, whilst I followthe worse. I have not forgot that in my school-training. Farewell!"

  "Farewell," said the Earl, as the old man disappeared behind the blackcurtain once more, "and I shall not offend you by wishing you may turnto some better occupation."

  When Bill had disappeared, the Earl sat down, and, bending his eyes onthe ground, he began to recapitulate in his mind the extraordinaryevents and the _eclaircissement_ he had heard that evening, whilst hewaited for his guide. His thoughts also reverted to the Countess as helooked at his watch, and found it was not very far from nine o'clock,and he began to think she would indeed have cause for anxiety. From hisreverie he was awoke by a soft foot approaching, and, looking up, he sawLeonora close beside him. She seemed to read in his face he knew thesecret, and as he exclaimed, "Leonora, my child," threw herself into herfather's arms.

  "And you know now who I am, and why I loved you so well, and are come totake me from this dreadful place?"

  "Alas! my child, I do know who you are; I do know you are my daughter,child of one who was worthy better things than my false love, andbelieve me, I shall ever dearly regard you as such. But I cannot, muchas I wish it, take you from this bad place; I have given my word I willnot by any means entice you to leave with me."

  "And why did you give your promise?"

  "Without it I should not be able to leave this cave; it was extortedfrom me, Leonora; but as I have given my word I cannot, under anypretext, break it, and did I do so, I believe in this lawless country itwould be of little avail. But at least, Leonora, you know you have onewho loves you dearly, and if ever you are without a friend, you have afriend and a father in me."

  A shadow of deep disappointment passed over Leonora's brow.

  "It is too bad!" she cried, striking her hands together with Italiangesture. "What power has that cruel, bad, relentless man over me? Darkand cruel as my uncle there was" (pointing to the coffin), "he was notso dreadful as the old man; but I will run away! I will throw myself onthe King's protection and yours! I will--"

  "Hush, Leonora, for heaven's sake! you will be overheard. At least sofar I will stoutly defend you as a suppliant; but to-night it must notbe; for, dear as you are,--dearly as I should love to see you everbeside me, and thus in a way pay back the debt of gratitude the Countessand I owe to your mother,--I must not do more than follow you hometo-night; but shall, you may be sure, try all expedients on your behalfthat do not in any way compromise my honor given."

  "I am sure you will, my father," said Leonora, pressing his hand to herlips. "I do so long to see my sister, that I feel quite sad at thedelay; and I so long to show how I will love you, and the Countess, andLady Augusta, that to be obliged to stay here among murderers and wickedmen is very sad."

  "It is indeed, my child; but we will pray that God will overrule it toyour advantage. And now I must ask you to hasten my departure, or elsemy wife and your sister will grow quite alarmed: we have a long way totravel, and shall have plenty of time to speak by the way."

  "You must then be blindfolded again--you will not fear your guide'sfaith now?" said the young girl, as she drew the scarf across her armand folded it, with a sad smile.

  "I shall not, indeed; but first I must take a parting glance at my poormisguided brother. Ah, Leonora! you cannot think what different feelingsarise in my mind as I look on that cold form. As each of my race fallaway in their prime, a link is broken--a blank, nothing can fill, made;and it seems like a warning voice to me that my turn must sooncome!--that I should be preparing for my last change. I hope I amprepared, Leonora: and how I hope we shall all be brought to the narrowpleasant paths of righteousness! To-day I have lost and found a brother;and it makes my heart bleed to think what and who he is. But Iforgot--you know nothing of these things: how much I seem to have beforeme!"

  Intently, for some time after he had ceased speaking, did the Earl gazeon the face that was dead. His thoughts are unutterable--not to bewritten: that they were intense and burning his face showed; theexpression sometimes approached to that of torture,--as if he was forcedto credit what he least wished to believe.

  He laid his hand on the marble brow of his brother; its coldness shot athrill through his frame; and then he turned away as though utterly castdown, and sickened in heart and soul, and with a choking voice badeLeonora bind the scarf across his eyes, glad to have the sight veiledfrom his view. As he sto
oped to allow the maiden to do so, she heard himsigh deeply; and, as she bound the Indian fabric across his eyes, shesaw more than one heavy tear glide down his cheek, and drop on the foldsof her scarf. She felt an answering weakness within herself, and thetears flowed faster down her cheek, as she took her parent's hand andled him on silently.