The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

The soldiers belonged to the Manchester Regiment, and at their head was Captain Dawson.

  “How did this sad event occur, sergeant?” demanded Jemmy, after he had examined the body.

  “Captain Lindsay fell by my hand,” replied Dickson. “I surrender myself your prisoner, and am ready to answer for the deed.”

  “You must have done it in self-defence,” said Jemmy. “I know you too well to suppose you could have committed such a crime without some strong motive.”

  “The deed was done in my rescue,” cried Helen. “Captain Lindsay was carrying me off when he was shot.”

  “I trust that will save him from the consequences of the act,” replied Jemmy, sadly. “My duty is to deliver him to the provost-marshal.”

  “That is all that I could desire,” said the sergeant. “I ask no greater favour from you.”

  “Oh! let me gae wi’ him — let me gae wi’ him,” cried Helen, distractedly. “I am the sad cause of it a’.”

  “Ye canna gang wi’ me, lassie, unless you compose yersel,” said the sergeant, somewhat sternly.

  “Dinna fear me — dinna fear me — I winna greet mair,” she cried, controlling her emotion by a powerful effort.

  “May she walk by my side to the guard-room, Captain Dawson?” asked the sergeant.

  “She may,” replied the other, adding to the men, “conduct the prisoner to the guard-room near the prince’s quarters.”

  The sergeant was then deprived of his arms, and the pistol with which he had fired the fatal shot was picked up, and preserved as evidence against him.

  As Erick and Helen were marched off in the midst of the guard, another file of men entered the churchyard, took up the body of the unfortunate Captain Lindsay, and conveyed it to the quarters of the commanding officer.

  CHAPTER VII.

  A COURT-MARTIAL.

  Delivered over to the custody of the provost, the unfortunate Sergeant Dickson was placed in the guard-room near the prince’s head-quarters, and a sentinel was stationed at the door. Helen was allowed to remain with him. The greatest sympathy was felt for the sergeant, for he was a universal favourite.

  Full of anxiety, Captain Dawson sought an interview with the prince, who, though engaged on business, immediately received him.

  Charles looked very grave.

  “I am greatly distressed by what has happened,” he said. “There is not a man in my whole army for whom I have a greater regard than Erick Dickson, but I fear his sentence will be death. However, I will do what I can for him. A court-martial shall be held immediately, and I have sent for Lord George Murray to preside over it, and we must wait the result of the investigation. As yet I cannot interfere.”

  As the prince had ordered that the examination should take place without delay, a court-martial was held in a room on the ground floor of the mansion occupied by his royal highness. Lord George Murray presided, and with him were Lord Elcho, Lord Pitsligo, Colonel Townley, and the Chevalier de Johnstone; Captain Legh, Captain Deacon, Captain Dawson, and several other officers were likewise present.

  The president occupied a raised chair at the head of the table, round which the others were seated. The room was only imperfectly lighted.

  After a short deliberation, the prisoner was brought in by two soldiers, who stood on either side of him.

  Bowing respectfully to the court, he drew himself up to his full height, and maintained a firm deportment throughout his examination.

  “Sergeant Dickson,” said Lord George Murray, in a stern and solemn voice, “you are charged with the dreadful crime of murder — aggravated in your instance, because your hand has been raised against your superior officer. If you have aught to state in mitigation of your offence, the court will listen to you.”

  “My lord,” replied Dickson, firmly, “I confess myself guilty of the crime with which I am charged. I did shoot Captain Lindsay, but perhaps the provocation I received, which roused me beyond all endurance, may be held as some extenuation of the offence. Nothing, I am well aware, can justify the act. My lord, I could not see the girl I love carried off before my eyes, and not demand her release. Captain Lindsay refused — mocked me — and I shot him. That is all I have to say.”

  Brief as was this address, it produced a most powerful effect. After a short deliberation by the court, Lord George thus addressed the prisoner:

  “Sergeant Dickson, since you acknowledge your guilt, it is not necessary to pursue the examination, but before pronouncing sentence, the court desires to interrogate Helen Carnegie.”

  “She is without, my lord,” replied the sergeant.

  On the order of Lord George, Helen was then introduced, and as she was well known to the president, and to every member of the council, the greatest sympathy was manifested for her.

  She was very pale, and did not venture to look at the sergeant, lest her composure should be shaken, but made a simple reverence to the president and the council.

  “Sergeant Dickson has confessed his guilt, Helen,” observed Lord George. “But we desire to have some information from your lips. How came you to meet Captain Lindsay in the churchyard?”

  “I did na meet him, my lord,” she replied, with indignation. “It was a base and dishonourable trick on his part. Little did I ken that he was lyin’ in wait for me. Rollo Forbes brought me word that Erick wished me to come to him, and when I went forth into the kirkyard, Captain Lindsay seized me, and wad have carried me aff. He has long persecuted me wi’ his addresses, but I ha’ gi’en him nae encouragement, and wad ha’ shunned him if I could. A scarf was thrown over my head by the captain to stifle my cries, and had not Erick came to my rescue I should ha’ been carried off. Captain Lindsay deserved his fate, and so all men will feel who prize their sweethearts. Erick was bound to defend me.”

  “His first duty was to observe the rules of war,” remarked Lord George sternly. “We are willing to believe your story, Helen, but we have no proof that you did not voluntarily meet Captain Lindsay.”

  “That fawse villain, Rollo, has fled, but there is a young leddy without, my lord — Miss Byrom — who will testify to the truth of my statement, if you will hear her.”

  “Let her come in,” said the president.

  Beppy Byrom was then introduced.

  She was accompanied by her father, who remained near her during her brief examination.

  Though looking very pale, Beppy was perfectly self-possessed, and quite confirmed Helen’s statement that she had been lured from the house by a supposed message from the sergeant; adding emphatically:

  “I am sure she would never have gone forth to meet Captain Lindsay, for I know she detested him.”

  “Ay, that I did!” exclaimed Helen, unable to control her feelings, and wholly unconscious that she was guilty of disrespect.

  Lord George then ordered the court to be cleared, and Beppy and Dr. Byrom went out, but Helen, scarcely comprehending the order, did not move, till her arm was touched by the officer.

  She then cast an agonised look at Erick, and would have flung herself into his arms if she had not been prevented.

  As she went out, she turned to the judges and said:

  “Be merciful to him, I pray you, my lords.”

  The court then deliberated for a short time, during which Lord George was earnestly addressed in a low tone both by Colonel Townley and the Chevalier de Johnstone, but his countenance remained very grave.

  At last, amid profound silence, he addressed the prisoner in the following terms: “Sergeant Dickson, the court has taken into consideration your excellent character, and the strong provocation that impelled you to commit this desperate act, and which certainly mitigates the offence; and such is our pity for you, that, were it in our power; we would pardon your offence, or at all events would visit it with a slight punishment; but we have no option — leniency on our part would be culpable. You have murdered an officer, and must die. Sentence of death is therefore passed upon you by the court.”

  “I expected this, my
lord,” observed the sergeant firmly, “and am prepared to meet my fate. But I would not die as a murderer.”

  “The crime you have committed is murder,” said Lord George; “and I can hold out no hope whatever of pardon. You are too good a soldier not to know that if your life were spared it would be an ill example to the army, besides being a violation of the law.”

  An awful pause ensued.

  The profound silence was then broken by the prisoner, who said, in a low, firm voice:

  “All the grace I will ask from your lordship and the court is, that execution of the sentence you have passed upon me, the justice of which I do not deny, may not be delayed.”

  “We willingly grant your request,” replied Lord George. “The execution shall take place at an early hour in the morning.”

  “I humbly thank your lordship,” said Dickson. “But I would further pray that my affianced wife, who has been unwittingly the cause of this disaster, be permitted to bear me company during the few hours I have left; and that she also be permitted to attend my execution.”

  “To the former part of the request there can be no objection,” said Lord George. “Helen shall remain with you during the night, but she can scarcely desire to be present at your execution.”

  “She will never leave me to the last,” said the sergeant.

  “Be it as you will,” replied Lord George.

  The sergeant was then removed by the guard, and given in charge of the provost, and the court broke up.

  CHAPTER VIII.

  HELEN PLEADS IN VAIN.

  Immediately after the breaking up of the court, Lord George Murray and the other members of the council waited upon the prince to acquaint him with their decision.

  Though greatly pained, he thought they were right, and after some discussion they retired and left him alone.

  But the prince was so much troubled, that though excessively fatigued he could not retire to rest, but continued to pace his chamber till past midnight, when Captain Dawson entered and informed him that Miss Byrom earnestly craved an audience of him.

  “She is not alone,” added Jemmy. “Helen Carnegie is with her.”

  Charles hesitated for a short time, and said, “I would have avoided this, if possible. But let them come in.”

  Beppy was then ushered in by Jemmy, and made a profound obeisance to the prince.

  Behind her stood Helen, who seemed quite overwhelmed with grief.

  “I trust your highness will pardon me,” said Beppy. “I have consented to accompany this poor heart-broken girl, and I am sure you will listen to her, and if possible grant her prayer.”

  “I will readily listen to what she has to say,” replied the prince, in a compassionate tone; “but I can hold out little hope.”

  “Oh, do not say so, most gracious prince!” cried Helen, springing forward, and catching his hand, while he averted his face. “For the love of Heaven have pity upon him! His death win be my death, for I canna survive him. Ye haven a mair leal subject nor a better sodger than Erick Dickson. Willingly wad he shed his heart’s bluid for ye! Were he to dee, claymore in hand, for you, I should not lament him — but to dee the death o’ a red-handed murtherer, is not fit for a brave man like Erick.”

  “I feel the force of all you say, Helen,” replied Charles, sadly. “Erick is brave and loyal, and has served me well.”

  “Then show him mercy, sweet prince,” she rejoined. “He is no murtherer — not he! Pit the case to yersel, prince. Wad ye hae seen the mistress o’ yer heart carried off, and not hae slain the base villain who took her? I ken not.”

  “’Tis hard to tell what I might do, Helen,” observed Charles. “But the rules of war cannot be broken. A court-martial has been held, and has pronounced its sentence. I must not reverse it.”

  “But you are above the court-martial, prince,” she cried. “You can change its decree. If any one is guilty— ’tis I! Had I not come wi’ Erick this wad never have happened. He has committed no other fawt.”

  “On the contrary, he has always done his duty — done it well,” said the prince. “Both Colonel Johnstone and Colonel Townley have testified strongly in his favour. But I required no testimony, for I well know what he has done.”

  “And yet ye winna pardon him?” she cried, reproachfully.

  “I cannot, Helen — I cannot,” replied Charles. “My heart bleeds for you, but I must be firm.”

  “Think not you will set an ill example by showing mercy in this instance, prince,” she said. “Erick’s worth and valour are known. Sae beloved is he, that were there time, hundreds of his comrades wad beg his life. If he be put to death for nae fawt, men win think he has been cruelly dealt with.”

  “You go too far, Helen,” said the prince, compassionately, “but I do not blame your zeal.”

  “Pardon me, sweet prince — pardon me if I have said mair than I ought. My heart overflows, and I must gie vent to my feelings, or it will break! Oh, that I were able to touch your heart, prince!”

  “You do touch it, Helen. Never did I feel greater difficulty in acting firmly than I do at this moment.”

  “Then yield to your feelings, prince — yield to them, I implore you,” she cried, passionately. “Oh, madam!” she added to Beppy, “join your prayers to mine, and perchance his highness may listen to us!”

  Thus urged, Beppy knelt by Helen’s side, and said, in an earnest voice:

  “I would plead earnestly with you, prince, to spare Erick. By putting him to death you will deprive yourself of an excellent soldier, whose place you can ill supply.”

  “Very true,” murmured Charles. “Very true.”

  “Then listen to the promptings of your own heart, which counsels you to spare him,” she continued.

  For a moment it seemed as if Charles was about to yield, but he remained firm, and raising her from her kneeling posture, said:

  “This interview must not be prolonged.”

  Helen, however, would not rise, but clung to his knees, exclaiming, distractedly:

  “Ye winna kill him! ye winna kill him!”

  Jemmy removed her gently, and with Beppy’s aid she was taken from the room.

  CHAPTER IX.

  TOGETHER TO THE LAST.

  For a few minutes after her removal from the cabinet, Helen was in a state of distraction, but at length she listened to Beppy’s consolations and grew calmer.

  She then besought Captain Dawson to take her to the guard-chamber, where Erick was confined. Before going thither she bade adieu to Beppy. It was a sad parting, and drew tears from those who witnessed it.

  “Fare ye weel, dear young leddy!” she said. “May every blessing leet upon your bonnie head, and on that ov yer dear, gude feyther! Most like I shan never see you again on this airth, but I hope you win sometimes think o’ the puir Scottish lassie that loo’d ye weel!”

  “Heaven strengthen you and support you, Helen!” cried Beppy, kissing her. “I trust we shall meet again.”

  “Dinna think it,” replied the other, sadly. “I hope and trust we may meet again in a better world.”

  Beppy could make no reply — her heart was too full.

  Embracing the poor girl affectionately, she hurried to her father, who was waiting for her, and hastily quitted the house.

  Helen was then conducted to the guard-room in which the sergeant was confined.

  Erick was seated on a wooden stool near a small table, on which a light was placed, and was reading the Bible. He rose on her entrance, and looked inquiringly at her.

  “Na hope, Erick,” she said, mournfully.

  “I had nane, lassie,” he replied.

  They passed several hours of the night in calm converse, talking of the past, and of the happy hours they had spent together; but at last Helen yielded to fatigue, and when the guard entered the chamber he found her asleep with her head resting on Erick’s shoulder.

  The man retired gently without disturbing her.

  Meanwhile, the warrant, signed by Lord George Go
rdon, appointing the execution to take place at seven o’clock in the morning, had been delivered to the Chevalier de Johnstone, as commander of the corps to which the unfortunate sergeant belonged, and all the necessary preparations had been made.

  There was some difficulty in arranging the execution party, for the sergeant was so much beloved that none of his comrades would undertake the dreadful task, alleging that their aim would not be steady. No Highlander, indeed, could be found to shoot him.

  Recourse was then had to the Manchester Regiment, and from this corps a dozen men were selected.

  The place of execution was fixed in an open field at the back of Market Street Lane, and at no great distance from the prince’s residence.

  The Rev. Mr. Coppock, chaplain of the regiment, volunteered to attend the prisoner.

  Helen slept on peacefully till near six o’clock, when a noise, caused by the entrance of Colonel Johnstone and Mr. Coppock, aroused her, and she started up.

  “Oh! I have had such a pleasant dream, Erick,” she said. “I thought we were in the Highlands together. But I woke, and find mysel here,” she added, with a shudder.

  “Well, you will soon be in the Highlands again, dear lassie,” he said.

  She looked at him wistfully, but made no answer.

  “Are you prepared, sergeant?” asked Colonel Johnstone, after bidding him good morrow.

  “I am, sir,” replied Dickson.

  “’Tis well,” said the colonel. “In half an hour you will set forth. Employ the interval in prayer.”

  Colonel Johnstone then retired, and the chaplain began to perform the sacred rites, in which both Erick and Helen took part.

  Just as Mr. Coppock had finished, the sound of martial footsteps was heard outside, and immediately afterwards the door was opened and the provost entered the chamber, attended by a couple of men. Behind them came Colonel Johnstone.

  “Bind him,” said the provost to his aids.

  “Must this be?” cried Dickson.

  “’Tis part of the regulation,” rejoined the provost.