CHAPTER XX.
Through quiet hedgerows and calm and solitary lanes Smeaton pursued his way towards Keanton. As he advanced, he thought he recognised the objects around him. It might be fancy, or it might, indeed, be memory; but he had often heard the place described, and two well-executed views of the house and neighbouring grounds always hung in his mother's chamber. So that a clear brawling brook which cut across the road, and a group of old oaks upon a knoll, seemed quite familiar to him, and showed him that he was approaching Keanton rapidly.
Before going to the family mansion, he thought it better to call at the house of farmer Thompson, and inquire into the state of things in the neighbourhood. He found nobody within, however, but the stout servant-maid, who looked at him apparently with some degree of suspicion, and gave very short answers to his questions. "She could not tell where Mr. Thompson was," she said. "She did not know whether Mr. Jennings was at the house or not. Her master might be home soon or he might not, just as it happened. He was very uncertain, 'specially just about harvest-time."
"Well, my good girl," said Smeaton, "there are two things I think you must do for me. Give me a draught of milk, if you have got any, and call somebody who can tell me more."
He spoke with soldier-like frankness; and the girl laughed, replying:
"Milk you shall have, sir, and welcome, and I'll call somebody else; but, whether they can tell you more or not, I cannot say."
Leaving him in the passage where he stood, she went away towards the back of the house, discussing with herself in half-uttered sentences the question of whom she should call.
"Not Tom," she said; "for he would blurt out everything in a minute, all about the fat man up at the great house, and all. I'll call Dick Peerly. There is no getting anything out of him--at least I never could."
After getting a bowl of milk at the dairy, she mounted upon a stone step let into the wall of the yard, and screamed at the top of her voice to good Van Noost's first acquaintance at Keanton, who was working in the field behind.
"Here, Dick, Dick Peerly," she cried, "come hither. Here is somebody wishes to speak to thee, man." Having thus vociferated, she carried the bowl to the stranger.
Dick Peerly sauntered up to the house at her bidding, whistling as usual; but, as soon as he saw the visitor, he put his hand up to his forehead as a salutation, with much greater signs of respect than he had shown to Van Noost.
"Can you tell me, my man, where farmer Thompson is?" asked Smeaton.
"No, that I cannot, sir," replied the lad. "He may be gone to Ballimoree for aught I know."
"Ballimoree!" echoed Smeaton, gazing at him. "Where is that?"
"Why, you fool, Dick, cannot you give the gentleman a reasonable answer?" exclaimed the girl. "It is all his nonsense, sir. There is no such place as Ballimoree."
"I only meant to say, he might be anywhere in the world, sir, for aught I knew," replied the young man, eyeing Smeaton very attentively. "But here he comes up the road, if you want to see him."
Smeaton drank the milk, and then, leaving his horse with the servant, walked on to meet the good farmer, while the maid and the peasant-lad looked after him down the road. The meeting was too far off for them to hear any of the words spoken; but, in an instant, they saw the farmer uncover his head, and stand with his hat in his hand till Smeaton made him a sign to put it on again. Then, without returning to the farm-house, they walked away towards the mansion, making a sign to the servant to follow with the horses.
They reached the great iron gates and went in; the servant followed and disappeared also; and the girl was turning to her work again, when suddenly a clattering sound was heard upon the road near, and a small party of horse came down at full speed.
The moment the lad Dick Peerly beheld them, he darted away to meet them, and, laying his hand on the neck of the charger mounted by an elderly man in a plain brown suit, he uttered the word "Ballimoree."
"Ay, Ballimoree, to be sure," replied the general, ordering his troop to halt, "Are you Dick Peerly?"
The spy, for such he was, nodded his head, saying, in a low tone--"He's up there at the house, or I am quite out. He came not ten minutes ago. But go carefully to work, sir; for there are so many ins and outs in that old place, that he'll get off if you make much noise."
"Come with me, and guide us," said the general. "We will use all caution."
The whole party then rode quietly up the road towards the mansion; but their proceedings had not passed without notice. The servant-girl, startled and surprised by the suddenness of the lad's spring forward to meet the soldiers, ran into the front room of the farm-house, and watched them from the window. Whatever shape her suspicions might take, she resolved at once that her master should not be without help in need; and, casting her apron over her head, she ran out by the back way, from cottage to cottage, and from field to field, saying a few words to every man and boy she met. The effect of what she told was instantaneous. All her hearers seemed enraged and surprised. One got a thick stick, another a flail, another a scythe. One or two ran into the cottages and brought forth old guns used for frightening the birds from the corn; and some eighteen or nineteen men, together with a number of women and boys, were soon directing their steps towards Farmer Thompson's house, all muttering threats against some one who was probably no other than treacherous Master Dick Peerly.
In the meantime, Smeaton and the farmer had, as we have seen, quietly pursued their way to the mansion, and had opened the great door, which was merely latched. A large old stone hall then presented itself; but it was vacant, as were also the rooms to the right and left. Voices, talking and laughing, however, were heard from a distance; and, as the surest means of discovering where Master Jennings, the steward, was, Farmer Thompson led his young lord towards the great kitchen, in which a stout rosy dame was bustling and scolding the maids. From her they learned that her husband Jennings was out in the little court with "the fat strange man, helping him in his tomfooleries," as she chose to express it.
"They have spoiled my best ladle amongst them," she said; "that is all I know; and I think Jennings is as great a fool as the other, for he has let the two men be called off their work in the garden for his nonsensical lead-melting. But, if my lord chooses all this to go on, there is no help for it, I suppose."
Smeaton smiled; and Farmer Thompson led the way towards the back court, through empty passages and a number of open doors. In the little stone-paved enclosure which they soon reached, an animated scene presented itself. Slung upon a tripod, such as that much in use amongst our friends of the gipsy race, was an immense large pot or caldron with a furious fire of brushwood beneath it. Two men in the garb of labourers were supplying fresh fagots to the flame; and the steward Jennings, a man upwards of sixty years of age, was standing by looking on, while Van Noost himself, the presiding demon of the flame, bustled about, stripped to the waist, and thickly begrimed with smoke and dirt.
For an instant he did not seem to perceive the approach of the young nobleman and his companion, so busily was he engaged in looking into the great pot, and moving some substance in it with a long ladle which he held in his hand. When he saw Smeaton, however, he rolled towards him with a joyous laugh, exclaiming--
"Here I am, my lord--here I am, at my old trade, and in your lordship's service!"
At the same time Farmer Thompson beckoned up the steward and introduced him to his young master. A few kindly words passed from the lips of Smeaton, and expressions of respect and attachment from those of Jennings; after which, Smeaton turned to Van Noost, saying--
"Well, my good friend, what are you about now?"
"Casting balls, my lord--casting balls for pinnacles," replied Van Noost, turning back to his caldron. "There is not one left in the place. What is a pinnacle without a ball, more than a cannon without a shot? Halloo! halloo! who are these gentlemen?"
His exclamation immediately led Smeaton to turn in the direction which Van Noost's eyes had taken; and he beheld, at each of the three doors which led into the court, a small party of dismounted troopers, every man having his cocked pistol in his hand. At the head of one of these parties was the general officer, in his plain brown suit.
"Halt there!" said the old officer, to the men; and he moved quietly alone, and unarmed, towards the scene around the caldron.
Without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment, Smeaton advanced a step or two to meet him, knowing that he himself was the person who must now speak and think for the rest.
"May I ask," said he, civilly, "to what we owe the pleasure of your company, sir?"
"To a somewhat unpleasant cause," replied the general, mildly. "One of the persons without is charged with a warrant for the apprehension of Henry, Earl of Eskdale. I do not know whether I have the honour of addressing that nobleman."
"The same, sir," returned Smeaton. "I shall of course submit, although this is a very inconvenient proceeding, which I was not led to expect. The Earl of Stair assured me that I should not be molested."
"I know not that he had any power to give such an assurance, my lord," remarked the old officer; "but the warrant runs in the name of the high sheriff of the county, and I have no choice but to see it executed, being directed to give him every aid and assistance. Nevertheless, I doubt not that if you could prove such assurance had been given to you, it might have had great influence; but----"
He paused; and Smeaton instantly re-joined--
"I can easily prove the fact, sir. Amongst my baggage at Ale Manor, I have a letter from his lordship to General C----, which I was to deliver, in case of obstruction."
"My name is General C----, my lord," said the old officer; "and I shall be most happy to receive his lordship's commands."
"Then, if you will take the trouble of riding with me to Ale," pursued Smeaton, "you shall have the letter immediately, by which you will see that not only is my presence in England well known to, and permitted by, the government, but that my whole baggage and papers have passed under examination in London."
"This is somewhat strange," observed the old officer; "for no knowledge of such facts have reached this county. Nevertheless, I fear, my lord, it is my duty to take you to Exeter; and indeed I have not time to turn so far out of the way as Ale."
"I think you are a little hard," said Smeaton. "May I inquire whether I am apprehended on suspicion merely, or upon some positive charge, which might justify my being carried away--to jail as I suppose--not only without the baggage necessary for my personal convenience, but without the very means of showing that such a suspicion can have no just foundation?"
"I do not wish to deal harshly, my lord," rejoined the other, taking out his watch; "and perhaps, as it is not yet two o'clock, I may make such arrangements as may tend to your convenience. I must now put you in the hands of the officer who bears the warrant; but I shall tell him, at the same time, that if he feels it consistent with his duty to take you round by Ale, for the purpose of obtaining what baggage and papers you want, I have no objection. Your lordship demanded whether you are apprehended on suspicion. Such indeed is the case; but I am much afraid that what we have seen here this day must form the basis of a very grave charge."
As he spoke, he pointed with his hand towards the great caldron, by the side of which Van Noost was standing, an image of fat despair, and shaking in every limb, notwithstanding the heat.
Smeaton could not help laughing.
"Pray, General," he said, "what do you think they are about?"
"Casting bullets beyond a doubt," replied the old officer. "We overheard the admission from that man's own lips as he came up. He talked of cannon indeed; but we see none about the place. However, the object is perfectly clear; and he must accompany your Lordship to Exeter."
Smeaton laughed somewhat bitterly.
"Prepossession induces strange mistakes," he said. "If you will ask the man what he was really about, he will tell you; and, if you please, I will tell you beforehand, so that you can compare the two accounts."
"I am not here to take examinations, my Lord," returned the old officer. "Any explanations you have to give had better be reserved for another place. I heard some of the words I have alluded to; and the men heard others. That is all we have to testify to; and I presume there is no doubt of this being a caldron full of lead. At all events I will see."
Thus saying he walked up to the fire, and looked into the large pot, adding, as he did so:
"The matter is very plain. This is boiling lead for casting bullets."
"For casting no such thing," exclaimed Van Noost, in a voice affected both by fear and indignation. "I have not got a bullet-mould in the world, and never cast a bullet in my life. The lead was melted to cast balls for the pinnacles and corners of the roof."
"A very good excuse," said the old officer, drily, staring at the grotesque figure of the statuary. "Pray, sir, what may be your name?"
Van Noost hesitated to reply; and the old general added, with a smile:
"It does not much matter; for, under whatever name you go, we must have you in Exeter, my good friend."
"Well, then, my name is Van Noost," said the statuary, with the boldness of despair. Then, fancying he saw a better chance of obtaining credence for his story if he stated his profession, he added, "Van Noost, the statuary and founder of leaden figures, Decorator of Gardens, etc., etc. I have had the honour of doing many a piece of work for good Queen Anne; and I declare, so help me Heaven, I was doing nothing at all but going to cast round balls for the angles, where you may see the old ones have fallen off."
"I am afraid the balls might have been used for other purposes, good Master Van Noost," said General C----; "but I am very happy to have met with you; for you are wanted in London on a charge of holding seditious correspondence with his Majesty's enemies."
"Upon my word, sir," interrupted Jennings, now speaking for the first time, "the poor man was doing nothing but what he says. You do not recollect me, I dare say; but my name is Jennings; and I believe I am well known to everybody as a peaceful and quiet man, who never meddles with politics or anything that does not concern him. At all events, my Lord knew nothing of the casting; for he has not arrived two minutes; and this is the first time he has been here since he was a boy."
"You had better follow your rule of not meddling, on this occasion also," rejoined General C----. "You may say things that I would rather not hear. I am not at all disposed to act harshly, or put any one to the pain of imprisonment unnecessarily, although I am not sure that, in the strict line of duty, I should not send every one here to Exeter jail. However, I shall content myself with this noble Lord and this worthy statuary, against whom charges exist, independent altogether of the present suspicious transaction. That also will have to be investigated; and then, Master Jennings, if you have any evidence to give, it will be received.--Now, Corporal Miles, call in Captain Smallpiece."
Having said this, he crossed his arms upon his chest, and looked gravely down upon the ground, till the person he sent for appeared; and then, pointing to Smeaton and the sculptor, he said,
"That gentleman's name is the Earl of Eskdale; and the other is Master Van Noost. I give them both into your custody, Captain Smallpiece; and you will have the goodness to conduct them to Exeter."
"I suppose I am to tie their arms?" said the insolent soldier, interrupting him.
"You are to show them no indignity whatever, sir," replied the general, "but to remember that, for your proper treatment of them, as well as for their safe custody, you will be held responsible. His lordship has expressed a wish to have part of his baggage, and some papers necessary to his defence, from Ale Manor; and I have no objection to him to your riding round that way and permitting him to obtain what he wants. But you will, on no account, lose sight of him; and I think it will be better for you to seal up the rest of his lordship's baggage at Ale Manor, and to mark, with your own hand, all the papers which he may think fit to bring away. These are precautions, my lord, which I am sorry to be obliged to take; but my duty requires them."
The young nobleman bowed stiffly; and Captain Smallpiece demanded in a less bullying tone than ordinary--
"Are you not going with us, then, General?"
"No," replied the old officer. "I must ride after the high-sheriff. Good morning, my Lord. I trust that you will be able to clear yourself of all charges; and, in the meantime, I shall be happy to receive my Lord of Stair's letter--for which I will give you an acknowledgement--and produce it upon the proper occasion."
Thus saying, he walked slowly out of the court, leaving Smeaton and Van Noost to the tender mercies of Captain Smallpiece, who beckoned up his troopers to assist in the removal of the prisoners.
At that period of English history, and for the greater part of that century, the constitution of the armies of England was very different from any thing we have seen in our own time. Abuses, hardly credible to us, so rapid and complete have been the reforms of late years, existed in every branch of the service. When we hear of mere boys being made colonels and general officers, and receiving the pay and appointments due to active service, or when we read of valet-de-chambres, bullies, and more degraded persons still, receiving commissions in the army by the influence of debauched and unscrupulous patrons, we are inclined to think that the tale is a romance; but such, alas! is not the fact. These things really did take place; and the mess-table of an English regiment presented a strange mixture, for which we have no parallel at present.
Now Captain Smallpiece was neither of the best nor of the worst of the classes which composed the British army. He was the son of a small hosier at Taunton; and, having been found exceedingly difficult to manage, or to instruct, given to swaggering, swearing, and drinking, his father took a quieter brother to his bosom and his shop, and contented himself with obtaining, for his eldest son, a commission in the army, through the interest of a nobleman who owed him money, and did not choose to pay it.
Placed under a very strict disciplinarian upon first entering the service, Captain Smallpiece decidedly improved. He lost some of his bad habits, or, at all events, he learned to control them; acquired a certain military tone and manner; and, as he was sharp and daring, though somewhat negligent, he gained the reputation of a smart officer. He had been in battle, too--had not run away, and had received a wound in the service, so that he easily contrived to get from an infantry into a cavalry regiment. Nevertheless, the old proverb, in regard to the difficulty of making a silk purse out of a sow's ear, was often brought to the mind of his military companions: and to those over whom he had dominion he certainly did not appear in the most favourable light. At the same time, he had certain notions with regard to the perquisites and privileges of his station, which savoured much more of the mercenary sworder of a former day, or of the thief-taker or jailer of his own times, than of the modern soldier. He had no idea of sparing any one the least pain, or yielding to any one the least convenience, without being paid for it; and he had a happy art of making his requirements known without demanding money in formal terms, which might have subjected him to punishment.
Strange as it may seem, by no one would his hints have been more easily understandable than by Smeaton; for he had served too long in foreign armies not to have seen the same conduct even in greater excess. He appeared to enter into the character of the man at once; and, rapidly considering his own peculiar position, made up his mind to pay largely for any concession which might enable him to see Emmeline even for a moment before he was removed to Exeter, or perhaps to London.
"I presume," he said, as soon as the general was gone, "you will permit me to ride my own horse, which is waiting."
"If you pay for his keep and dressing, my lord," replied the captain.
"Oh, yes, I understand all that," said the young nobleman, "I have served many years myself, my good friend, and understand what is right and proper on these occasions. What is done for my own convenience must, of course, be done at my own expense."
Captain Smallpiece grinned graciously; for he at once perceived that he should be spared any embarrassing explanations. However, he thought it best to begin his exactions vigorously at once, for fear of any after resistance; and so, rubbing his head, he observed, in a sort of meditative tone--
"As to taking this round about by Ale, 'pon my life, I do not know what to do. Zounds, my lord, it makes nine miles difference; and that, upon a long march, is something. I don't believe we shall ever be able to reach Exeter to-night if we do; and then I shall have to feed the men and horses; and I doubt whether the magistrates will allow the money. The general did not order me to do it. He only said I might."
"Which was as good as an order," added the Earl, who had heard him quietly to an end. "As to your expenses being allowed, whether the magistrates do that or not, I shall defray them. We can settle that, captain, at the first place where we stop for any time; but, if we do not go to Ale Manor House, I shall have no means of defraying anything, as, not expecting this adventure, I have not a guinea in my purse."
"Well, we must go, I suppose," grumbled the worthy officer. "That is to say, if you think what General C---- said was intended for an order."
"Oh, that it was, that it was," cried Van Noost, who was struggling, all begrimed as he was, into his smart coat and waistcoat.
"I should take it as such, were I in your place," observed Smeaton; "and I am a soldier, you must recollect, as well as yourself."
"Very well then, come along, my lord," rejoined Captain Smallpiece, assigning two of his soldiers to guard each of the prisoners. "Stand back, fellows! No private talk with people in custody!"
This was addressed to Jennings and Farmer Thompson, who were pressing forward to take leave of their lord. The first bore it with much patience; and the second drew back, and made no farther attempt; but he had a hot and angry brow, and muttered something to himself with regard to basting Captain Smallpiece heartily, before he had done with him.
"Halloo, what is all this?" cried Captain Smallpiece, when they entered the court before the house, and saw through the iron gates a great number of peasantry, armed and unarmed, and bearing a very threatening aspect. "Cock your pistols, my men, and mount your horses."
"Stay, stay a minute, my good friend," said the young nobleman, not liking the appearance of things at all. "Thompson. Jennings, go and speak with those men, and get them away. Let there be no violence, I beg. It may do me harm, but no good; and I am not in the slightest danger."
"I won't have the King's troops insulted," exclaimed Captain Smallpiece, in a loud tone.
"I trust there is not the least chance of it," said the young nobleman. "Go forward, Thompson, and take them away into the hamlet."
The good farmer obeyed, but evidently unwillingly; and as he approached the iron gate to open it, the lad, Dick Peerly, who was within the court with the soldiers, sprang forward, and caught hold of his sleeve, saying something to him which was not heard where Smeaton stood.
But the good farmer pushed him away violently, exclaiming--
"Get thee back, hound! Thou shalt have what thou deservest, if I catch thee in the place in five minutes. I have got other work to do just now."
Going to the gates, he was seen speaking to the people, for a moment or two, evidently having some difficulty to persuade them. At length, however, he walked down the road, with the little crowd following him, though some lingered a while longer, and many turned to look at the departure of the soldiers, when they had got about a hundred and fifty yards from the gates. Smeaton's horse was then brought forward by his own servant, and, as he mounted, the man asked--
"Shall I come with you, sir?"
"Do as you like," replied Smeaton. "I shall not be long in captivity. Perhaps you had better ride with us to Ale Manor, at all events."
"Ah, you impudent varlet!" cried Captain Smallpiece. "You are the rascal who made such fools of us at Ale."
"Heaven help me, noble sir!" replied the man. "I made no fool of you. That would have been trouble thrown away." At the same moment he loosed his lord's stirrup, and jumped out of the reach of the captain's arm.
After some questions, and some trouble, good Van Noost was mounted upon his fat pony, with a very rueful face; and, near the head of the troop, with a soldier on either side, he and the young nobleman rode out of the gates. Smeaton's servant, Thomas Higham, followed at the end of the file, a little indeed in the rear; and, before he left the village, he rode quickly down to the spot where Farmer Thompson was speaking to some people, said a few words to him, and then cantered off after his master.
CHAPTER XXI.
The life of man, like the life of society, goes in epochs. There are periods at which fair fortune or ill fortune seems to begin or end; and a long succession of bright or dark days follows, during which no folly seems capable of clouding the sunshine--no precaution sufficient to avert the storm.
The Earl of Eskdale was that day destined to disappointment when, after a long and tiresome ride, fatiguing from the slowness at which the troop moved, he reached Ale Manor, and was admitted, strictly guarded, to the house and to his own rooms. He found that Sir John Newark had gone out about an hour before, and had taken Emmeline and Richard with him. There was no resource but to procure what letters, money, and apparel he required, and to accompany Captain Smallpiece on the road towards Exeter. The fine wild scenery round Ale looked more beautiful than ever, though the day was not so promising as many which had preceded it. The sky indeed was generally blue, and the air warmer than it had been in the month of July; but ever and anon came heavy masses of cloud, floating distinct, low, and heavy, and looking like the flying island of Laputa to the eyes of Gulliver. From time to time, too, they had let fall, in passing, a few large drops of rain; and, amongst the mistiness which hung about the south-west, might be seen strange forms of hardening vapours of a light reddish hue where they caught the rays of the sun.
When Smeaton descended from the room he had inhabited, in order to remount, he found several of the servants in the hall, with old Mrs. Culpepper at their head. She seemed to witness his captivity with a stoical sort of apathy, which he knew to be far from her nature, and took no more notice of him than by dropping a formal curtsey as he passed. He easily understood her motives, and merely said--
"Be so good as to inform Sir John Newark, madam, that I trust to be back here in a few days. Do not let him make himself at all uneasy on my account; for, as he well knows, I have given no offence to the existing government, and can therefore be in no danger."
"I will tell him, sir," replied Mrs. Culpepper; and the young nobleman mounted and rode on.
The pace at which Captain Smallpiece thought fit to proceed was, as I have hinted, the very slowest possible; and it was evident to Smeaton that he did not intend to reach Exeter that night; but the clouds, which began to gather thick and lurid in the sky some way before they reached the hamlet and church of Aleton, induced him to quicken his movements a little. Rain was beginning to fall when they passed the small public-house; and the sergeant of the troop, who seemed on very familiar terms with his commanding officer, ventured to hint that it might be as well to stop there and refresh the men and horses.
"No, no, Jack," replied the captain. "We must get on a little farther, till we come to Norton-Newchurch. There, we'll halt at old Mother Gandy's. She brews the best, and I owe her a turn."
Perhaps he regretted, before long, that he had determined to proceed; for the menacing aspect of the clouds was soon changed into active operations. Thunder, lightning, and torrents of rain, pursued the party for the next three miles, which was the distance between Aleton and Newchurch, and not a man but was drenched to the skin, when the party dismounted at the door of the inn--if inn it could be properly called, being nothing more than a long rambling public-house, of two low stories, looking like half-a-dozen cottages put together.
As soon as he was under shelter, Captain Smallpiece drew forth his watch, and found that he had contrived to make it six o'clock before his arrival. This was just what he intended, apparently; for he abruptly declared that, with wearied men and horses, it would be impossible to reach Exeter that night. He then made arrangements for the accommodation of his soldiers, and demanded a private room for himself and his prisoners, at the door of which he planted the trooper whom he most disliked in the party, to perform, in his dripping clothes, the wearisome office of sentry.
"Now, my Lord," he said, as soon as the door was shut, "what will you please to treat the men with? Gadzooks! I shall be glad enough to put something warm into my own stomach; and I dare say they will too, poor devils!"
Smeaton smiled, and replied--
"If you will call the landlady--mother Gandy, as you name her--I will order refreshment for ourselves. As to the men, you had better take these ten guineas to provide them with what you judge necessary."
The Captain had no scruple; and, when the landlady appeared, the young nobleman gave an ample order for good cheer for himself and his companions; and the worthy officer ordered refreshments for the men to the value of about a fourth part of what he had received.
"Set a barrel of good strong ale a-broach for them, madam, on my account," said the young Earl; and, with a low curtsey, the good woman withdrew, while Smallpiece exclaimed, with a coarse laugh,
"D----n it, you must not make them drunk, my Lord."
"I have no such intention, sir," replied Smeaton; "and, if I had, they would get sober before morning."
In one respect, the young nobleman and Van Noost were better off than their captors; for they had dry clothes at hand, of which they did not neglect to avail themselves; and good Van Noost seemed to acquire fresh courage with a dry jerkin. A good supper--for in those old times seven o'clock might be considered as a supper hour--completely restored him to confidence; and Captain Smallpiece, gazing on his washed and rubicund face, and clean apparel, and listening to his flat jokes, and his discourses regarding all his leaden mythology on the Reading road, could hardly believe that he was the same man he had first seen at Keanton, and pronounced him a jolly good fellow. This impression was very greatly increased when Van Noost undertook to manufacture the punch for the whole party, and his brewing turned out to be the most delicious that had ever been tasted.
Fertile in resources, whenever his first panics had subsided, the sculptor's brain was now entirely occupied with the thought of finding means for the escape of himself and his companion, never dreaming that Smeaton had no desire to escape at all. The first and simplest scheme that suggested itself to his mind was to make Captain Smallpiece drunk, and the worthy officer's propensity towards the bottle was written on his countenance in large letters. But insuperable obstacles intervened; the punch being made in the room, there was no deceiving Smallpiece as to the proportions of the rum and the water. Moreover, the worthy captain was upon his guard against himself; and, though he drank fast and hard at first, he soon began to hold his hand. One bowl was emptied without doing harm to any one.
Van Noost began to brew another, but Smeaton told him he should drink no more, and Captain Smallpiece said,
"Nor I either."
The sculptor went on, however, and took a ladle-full, saying,
"I am not afraid. My stomach is stout and my brain too."
"Well, another glass," said the captain, in a resigned tone; and to that other glass he added a second, a third, and a fourth, sometimes making Van Noost drink with him, sometimes stretching forth his hand to the bowl and helping himself almost unconsciously. But his head was a well-seasoned cask, upon which the fresh liquor made little impression. He merely grew somewhat more loud and talkative, more domineering in his manner and his tone.
Then Van Noost thought that, if he could but get Smeaton's servant into the room and the sentry away from the door, they could soon overpower the worthy captain himself, and make their escape from the window, which was on the ground floor; but the young nobleman would not take any hint. He did not want his servant and would not send for him, and Captain Smallpiece continued, with his long legs under the table, and his eyes turned towards the door, so as to see the sentry every time it opened. Some of Van Noost's manœuvres, too, seemed to excite his suspicion; for when, on one occasion, the statuary rose and went to the window, he exclaimed--
"Come, come, sit down, fat gentleman. What are you marauding about for?"
"I only wanted to see if it rained still," replied Van Noost; "but it is quite a fine night, and the moon is coming out between the white streaks."
Captain Smallpiece d--d the moon, and asked what he had to do with her.
"Perhaps she might light you to Exeter, If you like to ride," said the young nobleman, gravely. "Is such your intention or not, Captain Smallpiece? for I think I hear your men bringing out the horses."
"Not they!" cried the captain, without budging from his seat; "and, if they do, they must take them in again. I gave my orders; if they choose to mistake, it is their own fault."
Van Noost kept quite silent; for the sounds which had reached Smeaton's ear reached his also; and there certainly was a noise as of many feet before the house. Then came a loud burst of talking and laughing, and a merry voice without tuned up some ribald song. A lull succeeded; then more loud talking; then, apparently, angry words, and at last a loud and confused din, as if twenty or thirty people were all shouting at once.
"Some of those blackguards of mine have got drunk, and are quarrelling with the bumpkins," said Captain Smallpiece, in a growling tone. "Well, they must fight it out; but they had better make haste, or I'll be in amongst them."
The din increased instead of diminishing; and, at the same moment, a voice was heard speaking to the sentry at the door.
"What is the matter?" shouted Captain Smallpiece, without rising. But, almost as he spoke, there was the report of a pistol; the door burst open; the sentry was thrown headlong into the room; and a number of men rushed in, with white shirts drawn over their garments, and their faces blackened.
Starting on his feet with a tremendous oath, Captain Smallpiece seized Van Noost by the collar, exclaiming--
"This is thy doing, and I will blow thy brains out." At the same time, he pressed a large horse-pistol to the unhappy man's head, and the lock clicked as he cocked the weapon. The fury in his face, and the fierceness of his gesture, showed that he was prepared to execute his threat, and another moment would have sent the poor sculptor to an immortality somewhat different from that which his leaden figures were likely to procure for him. But a tremendous blow from Smeaton's strong arm saved Van Noost's life, and laid the doughty captain grovelling on the ground. As he fell, the pistol went off, and the bullet struck the wall, while he shouted furiously--"Ah, my lord, you shall hang for this!"
What followed it is impossible to describe accurately; for the men from without, rushing in and throwing themselves both upon the officer and the sentry, contrived in the short struggle which ensued to bind them, to overturn the table, break the punch-bowl and glasses, and extinguish the lights. In the midst of this scene, Smeaton found his hand grasped by some one, and a voice said--"Come with me, come with me, and you are safe."
He hesitated for an instant, while a multitude of considerations passed through his mind, rendering it difficult to decide what to do. Another man, however, caught him likewise by the arm, and they hurried him on between them towards the door.
"This way, this way, my Lord," said a voice, which he thought he knew.
All was darkness in the passage, and those who guided him did not take him through the room in which the soldiers had been regaling. The door of the kitchen was open, however, and the interior, as he passed, presented a somewhat strange sight. Two or three of the troopers were lying on the floor, apparently dead-drunk; others were sitting upon benches or stools, with their arms tied tightly behind them; some were in a sleepy state of drunkenness, which rendered them nearly unconscious of what had happened; others were roaring forth a bacchanalian song in spite of their bondage, or sitting, gloomy and stern, mediating over the way in which they had suffered themselves to be surprised.
Amongst the latter was the sergeant, Miles, who caught a glimpse of Smeaton, and exclaimed:
"Ah, my Lord, I know you."
Smeaton paused, as if to reply; but the two men hurried him forward forcibly, and the next moment he was standing upon the road before the inn.
"Here is your horse, sir," said the voice of his servant. "All the things are in the saddle-bag behind. Let us be off as fast as possible. Then the good folks will separate. Quick, my Lord! I will show you the way."
Smeaton mounted in silence amongst a number of horses, and with eight or ten men flitting round, but apparently taking not the least notice of him. They suffered him to ride away after his servant, without even a word in answer to a question he addressed to one of them. Everything was conducted in profound silence; and, in a few minutes, the young nobleman was over the brow of the hill, and out of sight of the house. The servant rode on before, leaving his master to follow, and soon left the high Exeter road on which the inn was situated, for the downs which extended nearly to Mount Place on the one side, and to Ale Manor on the other.
It may be necessary, before I proceed, to take some brief notice of the various thoughts which had crossed Smeaton's mind during the last few minutes, as his conduct was greatly affected thereby. It must be recollected, that in the whole transaction he was taken entirely by surprise. He was not, indeed, often found unprepared for any event; but all which had occurred had passed so rapidly, that impulse might well act in the place of reason. Though not without a thorough conviction that, if he did not interfere, another moment would terminate poor Van Noost's life, it was upon impulse that he knocked down Captain Smallpiece, and he much regretted the necessity of so doing to save the poor statuary. The consequences of that act presented themselves to his mind the moment after. He saw that it compromised him in a very serious manner, and that a little skilful torturing of evidence, by an experienced lawyer, would connect the fact of his taking part in the active struggle for his liberation, with his having ordered the ale with which the soldiers besotted themselves, and that again with the well-organised plan for his rescue, which he doubted not had been executed by his own tenantry. To all this, moreover, would be joined the lead-melting at Keanton, and the words which Van Noost had spoken, and which General C---- and the soldiers had only partly heard.
The whole of the above incidents would indeed form a chain of evidence tending to the one conclusion, that, notwithstanding his promise to Lord Stair, he had taken active measures to promote the insurrection against the government. He knew well, too, that persons made prisoners in the first outbreak of a rebellion are sure to receive little mercy, and sometimes little justice. Party violence demands victims, and examples must be made to deter the wavering by fear; so that both passion and policy combine for their destruction. If he neglected the means of escape, there was no prospect before him but long imprisonment, or death on a scaffold.
Then came another consideration, and I must leave it to the reader to settle, as he may be old or young, phlegmatic or ardent, how much this contributed to his decision. He thought of Emmeline, of how these events might affect her; nay, more, hopes and expectations flashed through his mind of being able, were he finally to succeed in escaping, to execute the scheme of carrying her away to another land, and uniting her fate to his. At the same time, he calculated, with the confidence of youth, upon easily clearing himself of all criminal share in the transactions which had occurred, if time were but allowed for him to prove the facts, and for men's minds to become composed and tranquillised.
Such were the motives on which he acted. I do not mean to say they were altogether just; for I am not drawing a perfect character. They seemed sufficient to him at the time, however, and his next thought was, how best to take advantage of the circumstances in which he was placed. Meditating in silence, he suffered his servant to ride on for about a mile; but then the latter dropped back, touching his hat, and saying--
"That way leads to Aleton Church and Ale, my lord, and that to Keanton. Though I thought you would like to go to Ale, I took a round to avoid the people; but your lordship can do as you like. You are about half way between the two places, somewhat nearer to Keanton perhaps; but I think Ale will be the safest."
"Why do you think so?" demanded &Heaton. "And what made you believe I should prefer going to Ale?"
"Why, my lord," replied the man, in his easy nonchalant way, "at Ale you can have a boat always ready to carry you off to the coast of France for half-a-dozen guineas; and the valley is so narrow, that you can get timely notice if people come down to take you. Then, as to your second question, I have always remarked that gentlemen about your age like better to live in houses where there are pretty young ladies, than in houses where there are nothing but ugly old women. Moths will fly in the candle, my lord, and young gentlemen are very courageous."
Smeaton smiled, and the man was falling back as if to let him lead the way, when his master stopped him, saying--
"Here, ride on beside me, Higham, and tell me how all this business has happened."
"On my life, I don't know, my lord," replied the man. "I had no hand in it, but just getting out your horse and mine, and throwing the saddle-bags across them. All I did was, when they were carrying you out of Keanton, to ride down and tell the stout farmer, who was so, busy, that he had better keep the people quiet for the time; but that, if he set people to look out for us from the top of the hills, he might find means of helping you out of the scrape before you got to Exeter."
"I am grieved at this," said Smeaton, somewhat sternly. "You should not have done so without orders. These poor people have now seriously compromised themselves with the government for an object which I did not at all desire, and I myself am thereby placed in very unpleasant circumstances. Do you think any of them were recognised by the soldiers?"
"Oh dear, no," replied the man. "I'll tell you how it all happened, my lord. When I heard you had ordered the men a whole barrel of humming ale, I naturally thought you intended to make them drunk. There were ten soldiers besides the sentry. A barrel holds six-and-thirty gallons. Now that is three gallons and a half a man. I say I could think nothing else, my lord, than that you meant to intoxicate the party; so I determined to help, and I treated them all round to a glass of strong waters to begin with. Just about nine o'clock, when the ale had worked, and the strong waters had helped it, and the men were three parts tipsy, in came three country fellows, and called for a pint a-piece. The soldiers began jeering them, and I thought they took it wonderfully quiet, for they only jeered them again, and there was a good deal of laughing and noise. Then came in two more country lads, strong likely fellows enough, and they too sat down and talked. A minute or two after, some people on horseback came up to the front of the house, and had the landlady called out; and three of the soldiers went out after her, and we could hear a great roaring and noise about the door, and one of the half-tipsy soldiers said, drowsily, 'I dare say they are all smugglers from Ale.' This set one of the countrymen to pick a quarrel with him, and, just when they were coming to blows, in rushed a whole set of tall hearty fellows, with white shirts on, and their faces blackened. They pounced upon the soldiers like so many goshawks, and, without much of a struggle, tied them, one and all, as tight as if they were going to Tyburn. There was some cracked crockery, indeed, and a stool or two upset; but it was all done very gingerly, for I was not away two minutes, getting out the horses, and it was over before I came back."
"But what made you get out the horses at all?" demanded Smeaton.
"Why, just when the black-faced fellows were coming in, one of the countrymen whispered to me--'Get out your lord's horse in a minute, and give him to the man who is holding the others at the door.' However, as I was saying, it was all done and over when I got back, the soldiers all tied, and as mute as mice; and one of the men said, in a feigned voice--'Where is your lord? The old woman won't tell.' So I led them along up to the sentry, going first myself. He spoke a word or two, and asked what all the noise was about; and when I tried to get hold of him, he fired his pistol, and in the struggle we both tumbled into the room. Your lordship knows all the rest."
"But were all these men from Keanton, do you think?" his master inquired.
"I don't think it, my lord," replied Higham. "The black-faced fellows, at least, looked much more like Ale men, and they carried their hands inside out, like other marine animals. No, I think they came from Ale; but it is clear enough they were in league with the bumpkins; and I saw the jolly old farmer outside of the door. That I could swear to."
"Pray mention it to no one, then," said Smeaton; "for I should be very sorry that he suffered for this rash enterprise."
"The men might be smugglers, after all, my lord," observed the servant, "and might just get a hint when they came up. They are always ready enough to take part in a riot, and to thrash the soldiers. I cannot say how it was, but I tell you all I know."
The information thus received did not induce Smeaton to take a better view of the aspect which the whole circumstances might present when brought into a court of justice. Here was his own servant acting with the mob who had rescued him, attempting to seize and disarm the sentry, and taking a prominent part in the whole affair. Nor did he at all feel sure that, though acting with the best intentions, the man had told him all. It seemed to him improbable that his horse should be so speedily saddled without some previous intimation of the attempt which was about to be made; but he thought it better not to question him any farther, and pursued his way in silence towards Aleton Church.
The round they had taken made the distance fully six miles; but at length the building began to appear upon the side of the hill; and the Exeter road was perceived descending into the village. The moon, though occasional clouds still flitted over her, was shining with peculiar brightness after the storm, and by her light he perceived a number of persons both on horseback and on foot taking their way in the same direction as himself. They were going along in so leisurely and unconcerned a manner, that he could hardly fancy them the persons so lately engaged in a daring and hazardous act, although the white garments with which the greater number of them were covered seemed to mark them out as the same. He thought it better to avoid them, however, on all accounts; and, for that purpose, being higher up on the hill than the church, he so directed his course as to bring the building between himself and them. Before this was accomplished, however, he saw one figure separate from the rest in order to climb the hill; and, in the short round form, he recognised, with great satisfaction, a strong resemblance to good Van Noost.
"Those are some of the men, my lord," said the servant, "going back to Ale, you see. I should not wonder if they were smugglers after all."
Smeaton was very much puzzled. A suspicion had more than once crossed his mind, from the words of young Richard Newark, from Sir John's eagerness to induce him to go that day to Mount Place, and from all which had occurred after, that his worthy host had led him into a trap. Yet who could have sent these people to rescue him except Sir John Newark?
"If that is Van Noost, I will know," he said to himself; and, turning again to the servant, he asked--"Is not that very like the stout man who was made prisoner with me? I hope so; for I was anxious about him."
"Oh, yes, my lord, that is he," replied the man; "but there is no fear about him. He is too fat for any harm to happen to him. He'll roll like one of those things called buoys at sea, which are tumbled about in all sorts of ways, but always get right end uppermost."
"I must speak to him, however," said Smeaton. "Here, hold the horse, and I will go up to him on foot. If I ride after him, he will run."
"And burst himself," added Higham, taking his lord's horse.
Van Noost, in the meantime, had climbed the hill, approached the wall of the churchyard, and entered the gates; but when Smeaton, following with a quick step, approached them, he found them locked, to his great surprise, and Van Noost nowhere to be seen. Without hesitation he vaulted over the low wall, and then ventured to call upon his stout friend's name. At first there was no reply; but upon his exclaiming again, "Van Noost, Van Noost, I want to speak with you," the head and shoulders of the statuary were protruded from behind a buttress, and he came forward as soon as he saw who it was that called.
"Ah, my dear lord," he said, "I am so glad to see you at liberty, and glad enough to find myself so too. You had better come in here where I am going. I am dead tired, I know, and I dare say you are too--those cursed saddle-bags have so fatigued me. But we shall be quite safe here; and I have got half a loaf and a long Oxford sausage with me."
"Where do you intend to hide?" asked Smeaton. "It will be better for you to come on with me to Ale, whence we can easily get to France."
"I would if I could; but I cannot," replied the poor man. "I have been so bumped and thumped and knocked about, that I have not got a leg to stand upon. I am going down into the crypt. There is an end of my old candle left, just to keep away the ghosts, and I shall be quite safe there."
"But how will you get in?" asked Smeaton.
Van Noost laughed.
"Ah! my lord," he said, "I have a fondness for keys, you know. I don't keep keys long in my hands without having a model of them. I have got a key for the door of the hiding-place at Ale; for I thought, whatever your Lordship might say, it might, some day, be of use to you; and I made one out of an old key at Keanton as soon as I got there."
Smeaton paused in thought for a minute, and then said.
"Give me that key, Van Noost. I should like to have it; and now, mark what I am about to say. You only know how far you have committed yourself with the government. I am going on to Ale--but not, in all probability, to the Manor House. I shall take up my abode in one of the cottages, if I can find a room. I shall have a boat kept ready to convey me to France in case of need; and, if you think it better for yourself to quit this country, you can come and join me at Ale before daylight to-morrow, resting here in the meanwhile. Some time will probably elapse before we are pursued, for the soldiers will doubtless go on to Exeter in the first place."
"I'll not fail, my dear Lord--I'll not fail," replied Van Noost; "and yet how can I go to France? It will almost break my heart.--My statues! How can I leave all my statues? And yet, as I may say, the parting has already taken place.--But let me get the key. It is in the saddle-bags by the little door.--Would that I had never meddled with politics!"
As he spoke, he turned back towards the church, accompanied by the young nobleman, who endeavoured to learn from him, without much success, by whose orders the men from Ale had joined the rescue party. They had all been "monstrous silent," Van Noost said; but, when the Earl added some farther questions as to whether they had ever mentioned Sir John Newark's name, the worthy sculptor exclaimed, somewhat vehemently.
"Ay, that they did, my Lord--at least, one of them; and I think you had a great deal better not go near Ale Manor again. From what one of them said, as two talked together, I made out that none of all this bad business would have happened if it had not been for Sir John. They say he has played the same trick to others before you, and always peaches and plays booty, except in the matter of smuggling."
"Then he did not order the rescue?" asked Smeaton.
"Oh, dear, no," answered Van Noost. "He sent messengers to Exeter in the middle of last night, with letters to the high-sheriff. So you may judge of the rest."
"Give me the key, my good friend," said Smeaton, through whose brain were passing many rapid considerations regarding his future conduct. "Did you make acquaintance with the parson of this place when you were here?"
"Ay, that I did, and rose high in his favour too," replied the sculptor. "He is a good, fat, jolly priest as ever waddled."
"And thinks of the things of this life, more than of the things of another, perhaps?" asked Smeaton.
"Ay, truly," responded the statuary. "He has more gods than one. A pipe of wine, a purse of guineas, a sucking-pig, or a haunch of venison, are better than any rubric for him, I wot."
"I must see to this," said Smeaton, in a musing tone; and, although the statuary could not divine whether he alluded to the parson or the pig, the purse or the pipe of wine, he did not venture to ask any questions, but got the key out of his saddle-bags. Having given it to Smeaton, the latter bade him adieu, and rode away.