Lost Sir Massingberd: A Romance of Real Life. v. 1/2

by James Payn

  CHAPTER XV.

  THE REASON CONTINUED.

  "About a year after our departure from Fairburn, Sinnamenta and I hadbeen to sell some baskets, the making of which was a great trade with usat that time, at Wooler, in Northumberland; and on our return from thefair that was being held there, we met a number of gentlemen drivinghome from shooting in the Cheviots. They went by very rapidly, yet notso fast but that I recognized one of their number; I had only to look atmy little sister's cheeks to see that she had recognized him also. Thevery next day came Massingberd Heath to our camp, professing himselfinjured by our abrupt withdrawal from his society, volunteering hiscompanionship as before, and reiterating his vows and promises toSinnamenta. She expressed herself in such a manner as to lead us almostto fear she might be induced to elope with him; while he, upon his side,seemed prepared to sacrifice everything to obtain her: his veryselfishness caused him, as it were, to forget himself; and I do believe,if it had been insisted upon, he would have had the banns published inWooler Church, in the hearing of the fine friends with whom he wasstaying, and been married by the parson. However, he again proposed togo through the Cingari ceremony, and this time, Morris and my fatheragreed to it. Having acknowledged himself to be an adopted gipsy,Massingberd Heath was joined in wedlock to Sinnamenta Liversedge; theordinary ceremonies were dispensed with, by command of Morris, thebride and bridegroom only pledging themselves to one another solemnly inthe presence of the assembled tribe. It was then, since he could notpurchase suitable presents in such an out-of-the-way district, that Ireceived from that man's hand this shooting-flask, as a remembrance ofthat day; my uncle commanded me to accept it (although I vehementlydisapproved of what had been done), and I therefore keep it now, whenevery other gift of that accursed man has long been committed to theflames. For my part, I could not understand this novel pliancy on thepart of Morris and my father; while Sinnamenta, as I think, implicitlybelieved in her lover's protestation, that for her sake he would all hislife be a wanderer like ourselves. That very day, however, he took heraway southward, on his road to London.

  "For beauty, as I have said, and for gentleness, there never breathedthe equal of my little sister, and yet in six short months this Heathgrew weary of her; like a spoiled child tired with a fragile toy, hecared not what became of her, so long as it vexed his eyes no more. Itis not necessary to tell what brutal insult he put upon her; enough tosay that she fled from him in terror, as he had intended her to do, andreturned to us, heart-stricken, woe-begone, about to become a mother,with nothing but wretchedness in the Future, and even her happy Past adream dispelled. It was dreadful to look upon my little sister, andcompare her to what she had been so short a time before. She felt thecold after her luxurious life in town; but she was far more ill at easein mind than body. Above all, she sorrowed because her lover's desertionhad left her disgraced--that she had brought shame upon all whobelonged to her. Incited by the poor girl's misery, Morris and my fatherput into effect an audacious design which they had privately had long inhand. We were back again at Fairburn--all but Stanley Carew, who wasaway about a new horse for our covered cart--not camping in theplantation, as of old, for fear of Sir Wentworth, but upon the commonhard by. On a certain morning, neither my father nor uncle went forth asusual, but sat at home smoking and watching at the opening of the tent.Not long after breakfast, there appeared a wayfarer in the distance,whose form showed gigantic in the summer haze.

  "That must be a big fellow, little sister," said I, drawing herattention to it. She was sitting huddled up, as usual, in front of thefire; but no sooner had she caught sight of the object in question,than she ran with a cry to her father's knee, and besought him to saveher from Massingberd Heath. Ah, even then, at that last moment, iffather or uncle had but consulted me, or let me into their plans, Ishould not have my little sister's shuddering face before me as now, thelarge eyes wild, the full lips pale with terror. He had beaten her, poordarling, even before the scene that was coming; but she had even morereason than she knew for fear. This man came striding on to the entranceof the tent, and stood there looking at its inmates with a witheringscowl. 'Why don't you speak,' said he, 'you vagabonds! For what is itthat you have dared to send for me?'

  "My father pointed towards Sinnamenta--'Is not that cause enough,Massingberd Heath?'

  "'No,' retorted the ruffian coolly. 'What is she to me? The drab hascome to her thieving friends again, it seems--the more fool she; forthere was more than one who had a fancy for her in town, and would havetaken her off my hands.'

  "My father's fingers mechanically sought the knife which lay beside hishalf-finished basket; but my uncle Morris stood up between him and thespeaker, and thus replied:--

  "Massingberd Heath, I sent for you to tell you something which concernsboth us and you. Many months ago, you came to us, uninvited andunwelcome, and elected to be a gipsy like ourselves. This makes yousmile very scornfully; yet if you did not mean the thing you said, youlied. However, we believed you. You were admitted into what, howeverwretched and debased it may seem to you, was our home, and all we had tooffer you was at your service. You fell in love with that poor girlyonder, and she did not tremble at your voice, as now, but trusted toyour honour. It is true, your position in the world was high, and herswas what you saw it to be. Still you wooed her, and not she you; that isso, and you know it. Do not slander her, sir, lest presently you shouldbe sorry for it. Again and again, then, you demanded her hand inmarriage--such marriage, that is, as prevails among our people--not soceremonious, indeed, as with the rest of the world, but not lessbinding. This we would not grant, because we disbelieved yourprotestations on your honour and before your God; and disbelieved them,as it has turned out, with reason. Then we fled from you and your falsesolicitations to the north, hundreds of miles away; even thither youfollowed us, or else accidentally fell in with us; I know not which. Yourenewed your offers and your oaths. We found, all worthless as you are,that the poor girl loved you still, and, yielding to your repeatedimportunity, we suffered her to become your wife.'

  "'Wife!' repeated the renegade contemptuously. 'Do you suppose, then,that I valued your gipsy mummeries at a pin's head? You might as wellattempt to tie these wrists of mine with the gossamer from yonderfurze.'

  "'We knew that, Massingberd Heath, although the girl did not know it;she trusted you, although your every word was false.'

  "'She is fool enough for anything,' returned the other brutally. 'But Iknow all this. Have you dared to bring me here merely to repeat so stalea story?'

  "'A story with an ending that you have yet to learn,' pursued my unclesternly. You were wedded by no gipsy mummeries, as you call them; youtook Sinnamenta Liversedge, in the presence of many persons, solemnly towife.'

  "'Ay, and I might take her sister there, and marry her to-day after thesame fashion, and no law could say me "nay."'

  "'Yes, here, Massingberd Heath; but not at Kirk-Yetholm.'

  "'And why not?' inquired the ruffian, with a mocking laugh, that had,however, something shrill and wavering in it.

  "'Because Kirk-Yetholm is over the Border, and, by the laws of Scotland,my niece Sinnamenta is your wife, proud man, and nothing but death candissever the bond!'

  "An awful silence succeeded my uncle's words. Massingberd Heath turnedlivid, and twice in vain essayed to speak; he was well nigh strangled bypassion.

  "'I thank heaven, Rachel,' murmured my little sister, 'that I am notthat shame to thee and to my race which I thought myself to be.'

  "'You shall have but little to thank heaven for, girl, if this be true,'cried her husband hoarse with concentrated rage; 'somebody shall pay forthis.'

  "'It is true,' quoth my father, 'and you feel it to be so. Nothingremains, then, but to make the best of it. We do not seek anything atyour hands, nor--'

  "'Only the right of camping undisturbed about Fairburn,' interposed myuncle Morris, who was of a grasping disposition, and had planned thewhole matter, I fear, not without an eye to the advantage of his tribe.'You wou
ldn't treat your wife's family as trespassers.'

  "'Certainly not,' returned Massingberd Heath, with bitterness; 'theyshall be most welcome. I should be extremely sorry if they were toleave my neighbourhood just yet. In the meantime, however, I want mywife--my Wife. Come along with me, my pretty one.'

  "He looked like a wild beast, within springing distance of his prey.

  "'Oh, father, uncle, defend me!' cried the miserable girl. 'What haveyou done to bring this man's vengeance upon me?'

  "'Ay, you are right there!' answered her husband, in a voice that frozemy veins. 'That is still left for me--vengeance. Come along, I say; Ihunger until it shall begin.'

  "'Massingberd Heath,' cried I, throwing myself at his feet, 'for God'ssake have mercy upon her; it is not her fault. She knew no more than youof all these things. Look how ill and pale she is--you above all menshould have pity on her wretched condition. Oh leave her with us, leavemy little sister here, and neither she nor we will ever trouble you,ever come near you. It shall be just the same as though you had neverset eyes upon us; it shall indeed! Oh, you would not, could not surelybe cruel to such a one as she.'

  "I pointed to her as she stood clinging to her father's arm as much forsupport as in appeal, so beautiful, so pitiful, so weak; a spectacle tomove a heart of stone.

  "'Could I not be cruel,' returned he, with a grating laugh, 'ay, to evensuch a one as she? Ask her--ask her.'

  "There was no occasion to put the question; you saw the answer in hershrinking form, her trembling limbs: his every word fell upon her like ablow.

  "'She has not yet known, however, what I can be to my Wife,' continuedhe. 'Come, my pretty one, come.'

  "'She shall not,' cried my father, vehemently; 'it shall never be inhis power to hurt her.'

  "'What! and I her husband?' exclaimed the other, mockingly. 'Both oneuntil death us do part! Not come?'

  "'He will kill her,' murmured my father; 'her blood will be on my head.'

  "'Are you coming, wife?' cried Massingberd Heath, in a terrible voice;he stepped forward, and grasped her slender wrist with fingers of steel.Morris and my father rushed forward, but the man had swung her behindhim, placing himself between her and them, and at the same instant hehad taken from his pocket a life-preserver--he carries it to thisday--armed with which he was a match for five such men. 'And now,' criedhe, 'what man shall stop me from doing what I will with my own?"'

  "'I!' exclaimed a sudden voice, and with the word some dark masslaunched itself so violently against the throat of Massingberd Heaththat the giant toppled and fell; upon his huge breast, knife in hand,knelt Stanley Carew, his eyes gleaming with hate, his lithe body workinglike a panther's. He was not hesitating, not he, he was only drinking ina delicious draught of revenge, before he struck.

  "'Strike!' cried I, 'strike hard and quick, Carew!' But while the bladewas in air, Morris and my father plucked him backwards, and suffered hisintended victim to rise, although despoiled of his weapon.

  "'No, Carew; that will never do,' quoth Morris. 'We should have thewhole country upon us in an hour, and they would hang us altogether.'

  "'Carew is that man's name, is it?' exclaimed Massingberd Heath. 'Iwill not forget it, be sure. You shall all pay for this, trust me; buthe, and this one, more than all. Come away, wife, come away.'

  "'Yes, she must go, Carew,' interposed my uncle, checking a furiousmovement of the young man's. 'He knows all now, and has a right to whathe demands.'

  "'Ay, but if he lays one finger upon her,' cried the passionate gipsy,'if he dares to harm her even by a word, and I hear of it, as sure as Isee the sun this day, I will know what is the colour of his life-blood.You may take her away across the seas, but I will follow you; you maysurround yourself with precautions, but I will come at you; you may goday and night in mail, but this knife shall find your heart out.'

  "Massingberd Heath nodded contempuously, without speaking; and stridingfrom the tent, signed to Sinnamenta to follow him, which she did,moaning and weeping, and casting backward, ever and anon, pitifulglances upon the home and friends she had exchanged for such an evillot. I never saw my little sister more."

  As if the remembrance of this sad scene had utterly overcome her, RachelLiversedge hid her face in her hands, and wept until the tears welledthrough her tanned and shrivelled fingers.

  "I am indeed distressed," said I, "to have caused you so much pain. Iwill not make you sad by telling me more."

  "Nay, my boy, since I have begun it, let me finish with it; I shallthink of it all the same, and it is better to speak than think. Thatvery night Stanley Carew was arrested upon the charge of stealing thehorse which he had bought in open market, and ridden home just in timeto play the part I have described. In the days I speak of, forty poundwas given as a reward to those who gave such evidence as produced acapital conviction, and many a gipsy perished innocently in consequenceof that wicked ordinance. It is possible that this accusation was madeby one of those who made a practice of earning blood-money; but I ampositively certain the false witness was set on by Massingberd Heath,even if that man did not originate the charge. It was pressed againstpoor Carew very harshly; and although the farmer of whom he bought theanimal came honestly forward, and swore to its being the same which hehad sold the prisoner, his evidence was rejected on account of someslight mistake in the description. You must have heard tell of thatawful execution long ago at Crittenden jail, when the wretched victim toperjury and revenge uttered these terrible words: 'O God, if thou dostnot deliver me, I will not believe there is a God.' That unhappy man wasStanley Carew. My father and uncle were pitilessly persecuted andimprisoned, and died before their time. These wrists have worn fetters,this back has suffered stripes; nor did the vengeance of our enemy ceaseeven with one generation. One of my boys is beyond seas, and anotherwithin stone walls; yet I know that the hate of Sir Massingberd Heath isnot yet slaked."

  "But what became of your little sister, poor Sinnamenta?"

  "I know not what she suffered immediately after she was taken from us;Heaven only knows: her husband carried her a great way off out of ourken. But this I have heard, that when he told her of the death ofStanley Carew she fell down like one dead, and presently beingdelivered of a son, the infant died after a few hours; the motherlived--a maniac. Yes, Massingberd Heath, you did not kill my littlesister, after all; yonder she lives, but recks not whether you are kindor cruel; she drinks no more the bitter cup of love's betrayal."

  "She is surely not at Fairburn," asked I, "is she?"

  "What else should keep us here, boy, to be harried by keepers, to bevexed by constables and justices? What else should keep me here in aplace that tortures me with memories of my youth and of loving facesthat have crumbled into dust? What else but the hope of one day seeingmy little sister yet, and the vengeance of Heaven upon him who hasworked her ruin!" The old woman rose up as she spoke, and lookedmenacingly towards Fairburn Hall. "I could almost exclaim with poorCarew," cried she, "that if Massingberd Heath escape some awful end,there is no Avenger on high. I am old, but I shall see it, yes, I shallsee it before I die."

  If there had been more to tell, which fortunately there was not, I donot think Rachel Liversedge could have spoken further; her emotion farmore than her exertions, had reduced her strength so far, that thoughshe uttered the last words energetically enough, I had had for some timea difficulty in hearing what she said.

  "I thank you for listening to the tediousness of an ancient dame solong," murmured she: "if you were not a good boy, and half a gipsy, youwould never have been so patient. I have told you all this to put you onyour guard: it is no secret, but still you may not have heard it.Distrust, despise, detest Massingberd Heath; and warn his nephew, ifyou be his friend, not to venture again within his uncle's reach."

  "I will, I will!" cried I; "and I thank you in his name," I held out myhand, and she turned it over in her own.

  "An honest palm," quoth she, "without a stain. There is one unluckycross about it, Peter, that is all. You must not fret
for that."

  I mounted my horse amid cordial "good-byes" from the gipsies, who hadbeen pursuing their usual avocations during the above recital, as thoughnothing was more common than that the head of the family should have asecret of two hours long to communicate to a strange young gentleman;and throwing a shilling to the boy who had shown me the way, I took myleave.

  It was not till I left the plantation far behind me, and had ridden atspeed for some distance on the open road, that I was able to shake offthe sombre feelings that oppressed me, and to meet Mrs. Myrtle's welcometo the rectory with an answering smile.