CHAPTER XLI.
It was nearly dark when the renowned Captain Barecolt and DiggoryFalgate issued forth into the streets of Hull, and silence, almostsolitude, had fallen over the town, for the people of that good citywere ever particularly attentive to the hour of supper, which was nowapproaching. Captain Barecolt then ventured to give his companion afamiliar and patronizing slap on the shoulder, saying--
"Ah, Diggory Falgate I honest Diggory Falgate! I never thought to seethee again in the land of the living."
"I certainly thought," replied the painter, in a grave tone, "that Iwas on the high-road to the land of the dead. But it was not fair ofyou, captain, upon my life, to leave me outside in the hands of thosemen. Why, they talked of hanging me without benefit of clergy."
"Fair!" cried Barecolt, indignantly. "How could I help it, Diggory?Did I not work more wonders than a man to save all of the party? Did Inot kill six Roundheads with my own hand? Did I not swim the moat,open the gates, fight in the front, protect the rear, kill thecaptain, disperse the troopers, and effect the retreat of my partywith the loss of none but you, my poor old Diggory? What more couldman do? You were but as a cannon, a falconer, a saker, which we wereobliged to leave in the hands of the enemy; nor was it discovered forsome time that you were not with us. When it was discovered, too, whatdid I do? Did I not issue forth, and, thinking that you might be lyingcovered with honourable wounds in some foul ditch by the roadside, didI not search for you for miles around the field of battle?"
"No! did you, though?" said Diggory Falgate. "Well, that was kind,captain."
"Nay, did I not pursue the search till after midnight?" continuedBarecolt. "Ask Lord Walton; ask the noble earl. But now that I havefound you, worthy Diggory, I would fain hear how you contrived toescape from the hands of the Philistines. You are not exactly aSamson, Diggory, and I should have thought they would have bound youwith bands you could not break."
"Hush!" said the painter; "here is some one coming."
The person who approached was merely a labouring man, who had beendetained somewhat late at his work, and he passed on without speaking;but the pause thus obtained in the conversation between CaptainBarecolt and Diggory Falgate afforded the latter time for a littlereflection. It had been his purpose to communicate to his companionthe whole of his adventures, and what he had discovered in the churchon the hill; but as he pondered on the matter this design was altered.A conviction had gradually impressed itself upon his mind, since firsthe had become acquainted with the grandiloquent Captain Barecolt, thatthe great warrior was in the habit of attributing to himself theactions and discoveries of others, or at all events of taking morethan his due share of credit for anything in which he had part; and asFalgate seldom had had an opportunity of distinguishing himself in anyway, except by painting strange faces, coats of arms, or wonderfulbeasts upon signboards, he wisely judged that it would be expedientnot to let slip any part of the occasion which, as he thought, nowpresented itself.
When Captain Barecolt, therefore, returned to the charge, and requireda detail of all his adventures, Falgate gave him such an account aswas perfectly satisfactory to his interrogator, and which, moreover,had the advantage of being true, though that very important item inthe Old Bailey oath, "the whole truth," was not exactly stated. Herelated how he had been carried off by the Roundhead party; how he hadbeen questioned touching the gentleman with whom he had been latelyconsorting; how he had refused stoutly to answer, and had beenthreatened with death; how he had been shut up in the old church, andleft there under a guard.
There, however, the minute exactitude of the painter's statementhalted, and he merely added, that finding the door leading from thechurch into the vaults open, he had escaped by that means of exit;and, after hiding for some time in the neighbourhood, had heard thatthe troop which had taken him had been sent to Boston, upon which heventured to return to Hull.
For his faithful discretion Captain Barecolt bestowed upon him highcommendation, declared that some day he would be a great man if hewould but learn to ride, and offered to be himself his instructor inthat elegant art. By the time that the praises of the worthy officercame to an end, however, they were approaching the out-of-the-way spotat which the dwelling of Mr. O'Donnell was situated; but in attemptingto approach the water-side they were turned back by a sentinel, who,on being asked how they were to get to the house they wanted to visit,replied, they must go to the back-door if it had one.
Luckily, Diggory Falgate was acquainted with the street in which thatback-door was situated, and to it they accordingly went, pulled thering of a bell, and produced the slow appearance of the tidy old womanwhom Barecolt had seen before. In reply to his inquiries for Mr.O'Donnell, however, on this occasion, she asserted boldly that he wasout; but the worthy captain, whose senses, as the reader knows, weregenerally on the alert, finished the sentence for her by saying--
"Out of tobacco, do you mean, madam? Good faith! if he smokes away atthe rate he is now doing in the parlour, he may well consume a quintalin a short space. Go in, my good lady, and tell him that a gentlemanis here who bears him news of old Sergeant Neil's grand-daughter."
The poor woman was confounded at the worthy captain's quickness; and,too well accustomed to the vapour of tobacco to smell it herself,could not divine how the visiter had discovered that her master wassmoking in the parlour, unless he had looked through a crack in thewindow. Without more ado, then, she retreated, leaving the strangersin possession of the passage; and in a moment after Mr. O'Donnell'shead was thrust out of a door at the farther end, taking a view of histwo visiters.
"Oh, come in, come in!" he said at length, as he recognised Barecolt."Whom have you got there with you? Come in----Ah, painter! is thatyou?"
Without replying to his various questions, Barecolt and Falgate walkedon into his little room, which they found cloudy with smoke, while ahuge jug, emitting the steam of hot water, kept company with a largeblack bottle, with the cork half out, which apparently contained astronger fluid. O'Donnell shut the door carefully, and then at oncebegan to interrogate Barecolt in regard to Arrah Neil, asking how shehad fared on the journey, whether she had found Lord Walton and hissister, and where she actually was.
During the progress of these questions, which were put with greatrapidity, Falgate sat silent, but noted attentively every word thatwas said, and marked the name of Lord Walton particularly in hismemory, as apparently the chief friend of the young lady in whoseescape he had assisted.
"She got off well, though it was through a hailstorm of dangers,Master O'Donnell," replied Barecolt, in a quick, hurried tone. "Shehas rejoined Lord Walton and his sister, and is now in Beverley. Askno more questions at present; but listen, and you shall have furtherinformation concerning poor Arrah to-morrow, God willing. At presentwe have other things to think of--business of life and death, MasterO'Donnell."
"Ah, devil fly away with it!" cried the Irishman; "that is always theway. Nothing but business of life and death now-a-days. A plain mancan't drive a plain trade quietly without being teased about businessof life and death. But I will have nothing to do with it, I tell you.I am a peaceable, well-disposed man, who hates secrets and abominatesbusiness of life and death. There, take some Geneva and water, if youwill. It is better than all the business in the world. Run and getsome drinking-cups, Master Painter."
Falgate, who seemed to have been in the house before, did as he wasdirected; and as soon as his back was turned O'Donnell demanded--
"What is this business? One cannot speak before your companion. He isa rattle-pated, silly fellow."
"But a very faithful one," answered Barecolt, doing the poor painterjustice; "and he knows all about this affair already. But the matteris shortly this, my good friend!--A noble gentleman is here in Hull,having business with Sir John Hotham, and charged, moreover, by LordWalton, to speak with you concerning Mistress Arrah Neil. He is myparticular friend; and while he went on to the governor's house I wentto the 'Swan,' requeste
d by him to see you end fix a meeting forto-morrow morning. However, when he arrives at Sir John Hotham's, hefinds no one but his son, Sir John being very ill----"
"Ah, by----! here's a pretty affair!" cried O'Donnell. "Very ill SirJohn is not. He has got the gout in one foot and both hands, and is ascross as the yards of a ship; but his son takes all upon himself, anda base business he makes of it. What more? what more?"
"Why, the son causes this noble gentleman to be arrested immediatelyfor a spy, tears his pass to pieces, will not let him see thegovernor, and threatens to shoot him to-morrow morning."
"And so he will, to be sure!" cried O'Donnell. "But what's to be done?How, in the fiend's name, can I help you? I'll not meddle with it--nota whit! I shall get shot some day myself if I don't mind."
As he was speaking, Diggory Falgate returned with two drinking-cups;and without waiting for Barecolt's reply, he tapped O'Donnell on theshoulder, saying--
"I'll tell you how you can help us, Master O'Donnell. Nothing so easyin life, and no danger to yourself either, though you are not a fellowto fear that if there were. All that is wanted is to let the governorknow what is going on, and he'll soon stop the colonel's doings; forthe pass which that wild beast tore was in his own handwriting; and itwill be an eternal blot upon his honour--worse than a black bendsinister on the shield of his arms--if any harm happens to the earlafter giving him that."
"The earl!" said O'Donnell. "Oh, ho! He is an earl, is he?"
"What have you said, you fool?" cried Barecolt, turning angrily uponFalgate; but the painter, though he turned somewhat red, put the bestface he could upon it, saying--
"Well, it's a slip of the tongue, captain; but it can't be helped, andyou know you can trust him."
"Ay, ay! trust me, sure enough," answered the Irishman. "But how am Ito do anything in this?" and leaning his head upon his hand, he mused,while Barecolt mixed himself some Geneva and hot water, notparticularly potent of the latter; and Falgate stood gazing at themaster of the house, as if waiting for him to speak further.
"I'll tell you what you can do, Master O'Donnell," said the painter atlength, laying his hand upon the other's arm; "you can put on your hatand cloak, go down to Sir John Hotham, and ask to speak with him for amoment about his gout. We know he will see you, for Mrs. White told usall about it."
"And if you have a snug little bottle of cordial waters under yourarm, you are sure to get in," added Barecolt. "Come, come, MasterO'Donnell; do not hesitate. There is no time to be lost."
"On my life, that's a pretty joker!" cried O'Donnell, starting up:"that I am to go and put my neck in peril for a man I never saw in mylife. I tell you, I'll have nothing to do with it. It's a bad case;and if they shoot him, they must."
In vain, to all appearance, were the eloquence of Barecolt and thearguments of the painter. The best they could obtain from O'Donnellwas a vague and unsatisfactory reply, that he would go on the morrow,or that he would see about it. He asked, nevertheless, a number ofquestions, as if he felt some interest in the affair, which for nearlyhalf-an-hour had the effect of inducing his two visiters to believethat their entreaties would ultimately prove effectual; but at lengthhe suddenly turned the conversation to another subject, and once moreinquired of Arrah Neil; and Barecolt, rising, wished him good-night ina sullen and disappointed tone, saying that, as he would have no handin it, some one else must be found who would undertake the task whichhe declined.
As soon as the mighty captain issued forth into the street, however,he burst into a laugh, much to Falgate's surprise. But Barecoltlaughed again, saying, "He will do it, Master Falgate! He will do it,take my word for it. He is a cunning old chap, that Master O'Donnell,and he will not let us know what he is going to do; but he'll go."
"I don't think it, Captain Barecolt; I don't think it," repliedFalgate, sadly; "and we cannot trust the good earl's safety to such achance."
"I don't intend to trust to any chance at all, Diggory Falgate,"answered Barecolt, in one of his supreme tones. "You do not suppose anofficer of my experience will rest satisfied without clear knowledgeof what he is about? Draw back with me, Master Falgate. Go you underthe shadow of that entry, where you can see his door in front. I willpost myself by that penthouse, where I command both streets. He cannotescape us then, and we will give him twenty minutes. But if he comesforth, say not a word, move not a finger; rest as quiet as one of thedoor nails till he has gone on, and then come and join me."
Not five of the twenty minutes which Captain Barecolt had allowed forthe issuing forth of Mr. O'Donnell had elapsed when the door of hishouse opened, and a tall figure appeared, which, turning back itshead, said aloud, "Turn the lock, Dorothy," and then took its way upthe street, without observing either of the two watchers.
Diggory Falgate was soon by Barecolt's side, and they followedtogether upon the steps of the worthy Irishman, till they saw himapproach the governor's house and enter the court; after which theyagain ensconced themselves under a gateway, in order to obtain themeans of judging, by the duration of O'Donnell's stay, whether he wasadmitted to the presence of Sir John Hotham or not. Ten minutes, aquarter of an hour, half-an-hour passed, and, O'Donnell not havingappeared when the clock struck ten, Barecolt and his companion,satisfied that their end was so far accomplished, made the best oftheir way back to the "Swan." The cautious captain, however, to makeassurance doubly sure, directed Falgate to proceed once more to themerchant's house at break of day, and to question him closely inregard to the result of his visit; after which, having communicated toMrs. White what success they had achieved, and received her opinionthat Master O'Donnell would leave no stone unturned to effect theirobject, they sat down to a good supper, which she had prepared forthem in the room where Mr. Dry had dined with Arrah Neil, and enjoyedthemselves for half-an-hour.
At the end of that time, Falgate, pronouncing himself tired, leftCaptain Barecolt with the flagon (which he did not propose to quit foranother hour), and retired, taking care to close the door after him.His course, however, did not lie straight to bed; for, finding theworthy landlady locking up her spoons and ladles in her littleparlour, he joined her there, and entered into conversation with herin a low and confidential tone. Their conference lasted a considerabletime, and was carried on apparently with some reluctance by Mrs. Whiteat first, but gradually became animated on her part also; and atlength, when Falgate asked her, "You are quite sure she was buriedthere, and that what I tell you was on her coffin?"
"I'll take my oath of it," she replied; "I'll give it under my hand ifyou like."
"I wish you would, Mrs. White," answered the painter; and, receivingher promise that it should be done on the following day, he retired tobed.
Before we close this somewhat long chapter, it may be necessary totrace to a certain point the proceedings of our worthy friendO'Donnell; but we will do so very briefly. Having passed the sentinelin the court of the governor's house, he approached a small door atthe side and knocked for admission. A servant appeared almostimmediately; but, far from asking directly to speak with Sir JohnHotham, he said, "Ah, Master Wilson! is Oliver within? I want a chatwith him."
"Walk in, Master O'Donnell," replied the man, "and I will seek forhim. He was with Sir John a moment ago."
O'Donnell wasted no more words, but entered in silence, and afterhaving been kept for a minute or two in the dark passage, he wasjoined by Oliver, the governor's body-servant, as he was called, witha light. The two shook hands with great good-will, and Master Oliverdrew his Irish friend into a little room on the left, whereimmediately O'Donnell produced two large, flat-sided, long-neckedbottles from under his cloak, and setting one down on the table hesaid, "That's for you, Noll, and this is some gout-cordial for thegovernor, which will soon send all his ailments away."
"God grant it!" replied the man, "for he is in a devil of a humour.Shall I take it to him, Master O'Donnell? Many thanks for the goodstuff!"
"Welcome, welcome!" replied his companion: "but you must get me speechof Sir John this very nigh
t, for I have got a dozen bottles ofcinnamon, such as you never tasted in your days, and a gentleman inthe town wants them. So I promised to give him an answer before I wentto bed, but thought it only dutiful to talk to the governor about themfirst, in case he should like any."
"Ah! he'll talk about that," replied the servant, "though he won'ttalk of anything else. Come up with me to his door, and we'll soon seeif he'll speak with you. Bring your bottle with you. That's as good asa pass."
"Better sometimes," replied O'Donnell, drily; and following theservant up-stairs and into the better part of the house, he was keptfor a moment or two in the corridor, and then admitted into thepresence of Sir John Hotham.
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