THE ESCAPE FROM ENDELLION.
All the events which I have just described happened so suddenly that I
had been able to think of nothing beyond obtaining my liberty. On
reaching the high-road, however, I began to cast about for my course of
procedure. Knowing that I should probably be followed, I had to decide
quickly, but although I racked my wits sorely, I could settle upon
nothing that pleased me. For, foolish as it may seem, no sooner was I
away from Endellion, than I wanted to be back again, and now that it
seemed impossible for me to keep my bargain with Peter Trevisa, I felt
more than ever determined to take the maid Nancy Molesworth to
Treviscoe. I found myself constantly pitying her too, and wondering how
she would fare among the Killigrews. My first determination to ride
towards London I abandoned, and so I rode on dejectedly until I
bethought me of a sentence which Benet Killigrew had let drop about a
priest coming from Padstow who was to wed Mistress Nancy to Otho. This
decided me, and without more ado I touched Chestnut's side with my
heels, and rode towards St. Enedock, from which I had heard I should be
able to get a ferry-boat to take me across the Camel River to Padstow.
Although the road was none of the best, I reached St. Enedock in a
little more than an hour; and then I began to look about me to obtain
the ferry-boat.
Did I not believe I was hardly pressed for time, I should have stayed at
this village for some time, for it was talked about throughout the
county. It had been averred that the whole place was often covered with
sand, while the church was so much buried that the people often had a
difficulty in entering. Indeed report had it that the vicar only
conducted a service therein once a year so as to be able to claim his
tithes, and in order to do this he had to climb in at one of the
windows.
Although it was but two hours past midnight I succeeded in waking the
ferryman, who lived in a hut close by the river, and after some argument
succeeded in persuading him to take me across. Long before we had
reached the little landing-place at Padstow, I found that he was
somewhat of a character, and possessed strong religious views.
"I can see you are a staunch Protestant," I said after a good deal of
talking on his part.
"Down with Popery I do zay, sur," was his response.
"And yet one of your great families are Papists."
"You do main the Rosecarricks."
"No."
"Who then; the Killigrews?"
"Yes."
"They belong to th' ould Sur Nick, and the young Killigrews be sons of
hell," he cried with energy.
"Supposing one of them were to come enquiring of you whether I came
across here?" I asked.
He looked at me keenly.
"Be you a Protestant?" he asked.
"Sound," I replied.
"And p'r'aps you doan't want me to know who you be?" he queried slyly.
"You are a clever man," I answered.
"Then they shaan't know," he said with a grin, "onnly you must know,
sur, I allays charge double in sich cases."
I laughed, and promised him this, feeling myself in fortune's way.
"Any time, sur, night or day, I'm yer sarvent," he cried when I had paid
him his money. "My brother do work the ferry from this side, sur, and
'ee's ov the saame opinions as I be. I'll spaik to un, sur. I'll tell un
'bout ee. You can allays depend on we, sur."
I found Padstow to be an ugly little fishing village, while the inn to
which I went provided but poor accommodation, even after I had spent a
good half-hour in arousing the landlord. However Chestnut was well
stabled and foddered, so I minded but little, especially as I found the
innkeeper willing to talk.
I was not long in discovering that only one Papist priest lived at
Padstow, and that very few of the people were of his persuasion. Indeed,
although the priest lodged with a Papist family in the town, he spent
much of his time in visiting the few Catholic families in the
neighbourhood. He went often to the Arundells at Lanherne, to the
Rosecarricks, and to the Killigrews at Endellion.
"Do the people hate him?" I asked.
"That they doan't," replied the innkeeper; "he's the jolliest ould chap
you ever zeed. I tell 'ee, sur, ef oal the priests 'ad a-bin like he, I
doan't b'leeve we Cornish people wud 'ave changed our religion years
agone."
After learning all I could from him, I went to bed, determined to find
the priest next day, and discover his relations with the Killigrews.
Although I little expected it, I fell asleep almost immediately, nor did
I wake until late the following morning, when the landlord came to my
door asking "whether I would 'ave a scrowled salt pilchard, 'am rasher,
or conger pie for my breakfast."
As soon as I could I started out to find the priest, but on going to the
house at which he stayed I found that he would not be home until night.
He had gone to Lanherne the previous day, on urgent business, but had
bade the woman prepare for his coming about nine o'clock. This gave me
time to look about me, and prepare for his coming.
Much as I disliked appearing in a disguise, I saw that I should defeat
my own purposes if I presented myself to the priest as Roger Trevanion.
I therefore bought a suit of homely garments but such as a gentleman
might wear on holiday occasions. I was also able to purchase a good
sword, which done I felt myself ready to meet the priest. It was
therefore with much impatience that I waited until nine o'clock, the
hour when he was supposed to arrive; then remembering that probably he
would want food after his journey I decided to put off my visit until
half an hour later. For it is well known that a man is more inclined to
be trustful and friendly after a meal than before. It was turned
half-past nine, therefore, before I presented myself at his lodgings. I
was immediately shown into the room in which he sat.
"What want you of me, my son?" he asked.
"I wish to know when you could perform the marriage rite, father," I
asked, noting the friendly and unsuspicious way with which his eyes
rested on me.
"Ha," he said kindly, "then you are one of the few faithful ones yet to
be found in the country. You look on marriage as a sacrament, and not a
mere legal business like the heretics of these parts."
"I trust so, father. When could you wed us?"
"Is the maid here in Padstow?" he asked.
"Nay," I replied. "She is at present with heretics, but she is of the
true faith."
"What is her name, my son?"
Then I told him a tale I had been weaving through the day, and which was
so plausible that he did not appear to doubt it.
"I could wed you to-morrow," he said at length, for it will be
remembered that this took place in 1745, eight years before the famous
law passed by Lord Hardwicke, through whose influence it was decreed
that banns of marriage must be publicly announced in the parish church
in order for the ceremony to be legal.
"I do not think I could bring her here to-morrow," I said cautiously.
"Then I am afraid you will have to wait a few days, my son," he replied.
"Why father?" I asked.
"Because to-morrow night I go to the Killigrews at Endellion, and shall
stay there three or four days."
"You know when you will return from Endellion, I suppose?" I asked
quietly.
"I shall stay no longer than four days," was his reply; "at the end of
that time I must return."
"So if I came to you after that time, all would be well?"
"Yes; but speak not of it, my son, we of the true faith are sorely
harried in this country. Cornish people love not the Stuarts, although
in some countries their return is longed for. Until the right time
comes, we must be cautious."
I knew all I desired now, and should be able to act accordingly. My
journey had not been in vain, and before long I left him, my head all
a-whirl with many thoughts. I waited not an hour longer at Padstow, and
not wishing to cross the river again by means of the ferry, I determined
to ride to Wadebridge, and from thence make my way to the village of St.
Kew, where I could leave Chestnut, and then go afoot to Endellion, which
was only two miles away.
This I did, passing through Wadebridge without any one noticing me, and
arriving at St. Kew about five o'clock in the morning. After breakfast I
walked to Endellion and looked carefully around me, for I was again in
the Killigrews' country. There were but a few houses in the village, and
I could easily discover what I wanted to know, if I cared to ask of the
cottagers; but this I would not do, for it is well known that people
with little to interest them talk much about what any stranger may say.
I therefore waited until after eight o'clock, and then to my delight I
saw Jennifer Lanteglos leave one of the cottages, and make her way
towards the fields near. This was what I desired; so, unseen by her and
by the cottagers, I followed. When she had passed through two fields I
overtook her and spoke kindly.
"Whither away, Jennifer my fine maid?" I asked.
She gave a start. "Plaise, sur, I be going to teel taetis" (till
potatoes), she replied like one in fear.
"You remember me, Jennifer?" I queried, for the girl seemed too
frightened to lift her eyes to mine.
"Oa iss, sur. I've 'eerd 'bout 'ee. Do 'ee be careful, sur, do 'ee."
"Hath Amelia been home lately?" I asked.
"Aw iss, laast night, sur."
"Did she tell you aught?"
"Iss, sur. She towld me 'bout you, sur."
"And what thought she about me?"
"She 'ardly knawed what to think, sur, 'cept that you be a braave strong
gentleman."
"And did she tell you what her mistress thought about me?"
The girl shook her head.
"Look you, Jennifer, I want to see your sister to-night."
"Doan't 'ee try to, sur. They be purtly maazed weth 'ee up at the 'ouse.
They 'll kill 'ee, sur. Doan't 'ee go nist (near) 'em, sur."
I saw she was in earnest, and that she was anxious for my welfare.
"Jennifer," I said, "your sister loves her young mistress, doesn't she?"
"Oa iss, sur, that she doth."
"And she wants a friend right badly?"
"Oa iss, sur, I musn't say nothin', but she do, sur."
"Then look here, Jennifer, you must go to Endellion this day and see
your sister. You must tell her to come here this night."
At first the maid was much frightened, but I succeeded in persuading her
at length. I also told her what she must say, and how she must carry out
my plans.
"Your sister must be here at nine o'clock this night," I said, "here by
this stile. You must go up to the house at once, and tell her to find
out all she can through the day. Tell her I would befriend her young
mistress. You must not plant any potatoes to-day, Jennifer. Here is a
crown piece for your trouble."
This done, I went back to St. Kew. I felt at ease in my mind that
Jennifer would fullfil my mission, and I hoped that Nancy Molesworth
would not hesitate to fall in with the plans I had conceived. I remained
at St. Kew all the day, not stirring outside the inn, until it was time
for me to go to meet Amelia Lanteglos. When I arrived at the stile, no
one was to be seen, and I feared much that the maid had failed me, but I
had not waited long before I saw two women coming towards me. These
proved to be Mistress Nancy Molesworth's serving-maid and her sister
Jennifer. So far all was well.
At first Amelia Lanteglos was chary of speech, but at length she spoke
freely, and told me all that had happened at the house. Sam Daddo had
told her that the Killigrews were searching for me, and that should they
find me it would go ill with me.
"And Benet Killigrew?" I asked.
"Ee es more maazed than anybody, sur. Ee do zay as ow 'ee went down
where you wos put, to zee that you wos saafe, and that you took 'im
unawares like. Ee do vow 'ee'll kill 'ee, sur, for you ded strick an
unfair blaw."
"And your mistress?" I asked presently, after the maid had talked about
Benet's passion; "What of her, Amelia?"
"I'm afraid she'll go luny, sur. She do 'aate the thot of marryin'
Maaster Otho, and she do zay a priest es comin' to-morra to marry 'er to
'im."
"And does she trust me, Amelia?"
"I dunnaw, sur. I believe she do sometimes. She wud be glad to do
anything to git away from they Killigrews."
"Would she be willing to take a bold step to get away from Endellion
Castle?" I asked her.
"She caan't, sur. She's watched night and day."
"But if means were offered?"
"Aw, sur, she wud git away ef she could."
After this I did my best to test the maid's loyalty and devotion to her
mistress, for I was risking everything upon the plan I had formed, and
did not want to be hasty.
"Amelia," I said presently, "I want you to tell your mistress that I
desire to be her friend. I would take her from yon den, and on my oath
as a gentleman I seek to free her from the Killigrews. Tell her also
that if she will be willing to obey me I will effect her escape."
"How, sur?" asked the maid, who trembled violently.
"Benet Killigrew wants her," I said.
"He did, sur, but I believe 'ee's gived up the thot now; besides my
mistress do 'aate Maaster Benet as much as the other."
"That may be, but you must deceive him."
"Ow, sir?"
"In this way. Benet Killigrew has been planning to carry your mistress
away. That was the reason he came down to me in that cell where I was
imprisoned at Endellion. He wanted me to help him, and offered me my
liberty on condition that I would help to carry out his plans. His
design is to take her to a priest near Bodmin. Well, I want you to tell
your mistress that she must consent to this, and you must convey the
news to Benet. Do you understand?"
"But she wudden't, sur, she wudden't!"
"Tell her that she must arrange for Benet to get horses and be ready to
take her away to-morrow night."
"But, sur, the priest es comin' to marry 'er to Maaster Otho to-morra
night. Besides she'd ruther die than go away aloan with Maaster Benet."
"Then Benet must also get a horse for you, and you must accompany your
mistress. You must ride through Endellion village, and when you get to
the four cross-roads on the other side, I shall meet you--do you see?"
"But what good'll that be?"
"You must see to it, that only Benet come with you, and then I shall
stop you and take your mistress away from him."
"But you cudden, sur; he's a terable fighter, and wud kill 'ee."
"Who came off best when we fought the other night? I tell you, you need
not fear."
Slowly the girl grasped my meaning, and, after many protestations, she
agreed to carry my message to her mistress.
"You are sure that the Killigrews intend marrying her to Otho to-morrow
night?"
"Aw, iss, sur."
"Well go back now, and tell your mistress what I have said to you. Then
to-morrow morning Jennifer must go to you, and you must tell her if she
hath consented to my plans. Mind, if you betray me, or if you fail, you
will have sent your mistress to a place worse than hell."
The maid protested much, and I had to content myself with walking back
to St. Kew with her assurance that she would do her utmost. In spite of
my excitement my heart was heavy with misgivings, for the more I
considered what I had done, the more did difficulties present
themselves. How could the maid Nancy be expected to trust me? Only once
had I seen her, and then she had torn my lying disguise from me in a
minute. I had left her convicted of deceit. Was it likely then that she
should undertake to obey my behests? Might not my protection seem worse
than that of Benet Killigrew? Would she not rather become the wife of
Otho than trust to me?
These and a thousand other disquieting thoughts filled my mind as I
walked back to the inn. And yet I had had hopes. If the maid hated the
Killigrews so much, would she not risk anything to escape them? Had she
not written me a letter, and therein told me that she would trust me?
But if she did, could I carry out my plans? Supposing she trusted to
Benet, and he brought her to the four cross-ways, could I take her from
him? I had beaten him at wrestling, but was I a better swordsman?
Then I laughed at my own anxiety, and wondered why I cared so much. Why
should I trouble? I tried to analyze my own thoughts. Should I take her
to Peter Trevisa's if I succeeded in mastering Benet? That were poor
return for the maid's trust; nay, it would stamp me as a base trickster.
And yet had I not promised Trevisa? Was I not day by day spending his
money? Again and again I felt like giving up the whole business; but
when I encouraged such a thought the remembrance of Nancy Molesworth's
face would come to me, and I saw her just as when she laid her hand on
my arm on the roof of the house, and said: "I am alone, helpless. I am
surrounded by those I cannot trust. I hate--loathe the thought of----"
Then in spite of myself I found myself gripping the hilt of my sword,
and setting my teeth together while I vowed to set her at liberty. I
found joy in the thought of beating the Killigrews too, and laughed as I
thought of their discomfiture.
But I need not tell of all my fears, notwithstanding they worried me
sorely, and when I made my way towards the stile the following morning I
had almost prepared myself to be told that the maid Nancy would not
trust me.
I found Jennifer Lanteglos waiting for me. She had just come from the
house of the Killigrews.
"Have you seen your sister this morning?" I asked.
"Iss, sur."
"Well?" and I waited impatiently for her to speak.
"Ef you plaise, sur, they'll come."
I know not why, but my heart seemed to have a difficulty in beating.
"Hath Mistress Nancy spoken to Benet?" I asked excitedly.
"No, sur, but 'Melia 'ave. Maaster Benet wos took in a minit."
"And he'll arrange the escape?"
"Iss, sur, they be going to leave the house at nine o'clock."
"How?"
"I dunnaw, sur. 'Melia ded'n tell me, she 'ad n' time. But she'll do
et, sur."
That was all the wench could tell me, and so I had to be content. How
Benet was to deceive Otho, how they were to escape without detection, I
knew not. It was an anxious day that I passed, but I comforted myself
with the thought that Mistress Nancy Molesworth was not to be imposed
upon, and that she would see to it that all my behests were obeyed. All
the same, as I thought of the many things which might take place, I
cursed myself as a numskull for not devising a better plan; for I
fancied I saw a hundred ways better than the one I had marked out.
At nine o'clock I dismounted from Chestnut at the four cross-ways,
ready, as I thought, for whatever might happen. I looked around me, for
it was bright moonlight, and took note of the position. It was a lonely
spot, a mile from the house, so unless the party were followed we were
not likely to be troubled with interference.
After I had waited a quarter of an hour or so, and heard no sounds I
became sorely impatient. Had Benet seen through the scheme and taken her
the other way? Had Otho discovered the plot? Had Amelia proved false?
Had Nancy changed her mind at the last minute? I called myself a fool
for caring so much, but at that time I was in a fever, and I chafed
finely as I strode to and fro.
More than half an hour had passed, and I had put my foot in the stirrup
to ride towards Endellion, when I heard the sound of horses' hoofs; a
minute or so later I saw a man and two women riding towards me.
I drew my sword, and waited.