OTHO KILLIGREW'S VICTORY.
Both Otho Killigrew and his brother Clement bowed courteously to Hugh
Boscawen. Both, too, appeared perfectly at ease in his presence.
"I have asked you to come here," said Viscount Falmouth to them blandly,
"in order to substantiate the charge you made last night against Roger
Trevanion."
"I should have been glad to have escaped the duty," replied Otho,
speaking slowly as was his wont, "but as a loyal subject of our gracious
Majesty, George II., whom may God preserve, I could do no other."
"You could not if your charges are true," was Falmouth's rejoinder. "The
name of Killigrew hath long been associated with the best life of the
county. I remember that the coat-of-arms of Falmouth, with which town I
am so closely associated by name and interest, is taken from that of the
Killigrews. Let me see, your arms are those of the Devonshire
Killigrews, and are _gules, three mascles or_. It pleases me much that
your branch of that ancient and honourable family remain loyal,
especially as evil reports have been rife concerning you."
"My father hath allowed reports to go forth uncontradicted," replied
Otho; "he found that by so doing he could best serve his king. And as a
further proof of the loyalty of our family, we have at the first
opportunity laid information before you concerning this man, Roger
Trevanion."
"Will you be good enough to repeat here what you stated last night
concerning him, so that he may have every opportunity of defending
himself?"
I cannot here put down in exact words the story which Otho Killigrew
told, for in truth I cannot do justice to the subtlety of his mind, nor
describe his power of twisting actions and statements which were most
innocent into what seemed definite proof that I was a most determined
enemy of the king. As I listened my power of speech seemed for a time to
be gone, and I could do nothing but stare first at him, and then at Hugh
Boscawen as though I was a born fool. I saw, too, on consideration, that
my actions had laid me open to such an accusation. I _had_ pretended to
be a papist; I _had_ declared myself to be in favor of the return of
Charles the Pretender; I _had_ promised old Colman Killigrew to obtain
recruits to fight against the King. Moreover, if I defended myself I
must tell the whole miserable story of my bargain with Peter Trevisa,
and then drag in the name of the maid who became constantly dearer to
me. Thus when Hugh Boscawen asked me if I had aught to say, I was for a
few moments stupidly silent.
"Look you," said Sir John Grenville, "you can at least answer plain
questions. Did you, on going to Endellion, tell Master Colman Killigrew
that you were a papist, and that hearing he was in the favour of the
Pretender's return, you desired to offer him your service? Yes, or no?"
"That is true, Sir John," I blurted out; "but I only used this as a
means whereby I might be able to enter the house."
"But why did you wish to enter the house?"
Again I was silent, for in truth I could not make up my mind to tell the
whole truth. I knew that Otho Killigrew longed to know my real reason
for coming to Endellion; longed to know what interest I had in the maid,
Nancy Molesworth, and was doubtless using every means in his power to
try and find out where I had taken her. I was sure, moreover, that did I
once begin to tell my story, I should probably let words fall that might
give him a knowledge of her whereabouts, and then she would be quickly
in his power again. But besides all this, I had given my promise to
Peter Trevisa, before undertaking the mission of which I had become so
heartily ashamed, that I would tell no man concerning it. At the time I
had made the promise I had seen no danger, and had any one told me two
days before that any of the Killigrews of Endellion would dare to charge
me with treason against the king, I would have laughed at him. Yet such
was the case, and innocent as I was of all traitorous purposes, I could
see no loophole for my escape.
"You are silent in relation to Sir John's query," said Hugh Boscawen,
who did not seem to relish any one asking questions but himself. "Let me
ask you one in Master Otho Killigrew's presence: Did you or did you not
promise to try and get recruits to try and fight against the king?"
"What I said had no meaning in it," I replied. "The king hath no truer
or more loyal subject than Roger Trevanion."
"If you are a true and loyal subject, you will be glad to give
information whereby all traitors can be brought to book," replied
Boscawen. "I mentioned just now the name of one who, when you were with
him, was known as a traveling droll, by the name of Uncle Anthony. As I
told you, he is the most dangerous man in the county. Will you tell us
what you know of him?"
"I know Uncle Anthony as a welcome guest of Colman Killigrew," I
replied. "When first I went to Endellion I was attacked by Otho
Killigrew's brother, and they would perchance have done me harm but for
the interference of the old man to whom you refer. As soon as they saw
that he was my companion they received me kindly. When I entered the
house I perceived that he was treated with great respect--almost as an
honoured guest."
"I may say," replied Otho calmly, "that this is true. My father had
doubts concerning him, but would do nothing against him until he was
absolutely sure of his guilt. Knowing of the reports circulated about
our family he came to our house and was received kindly, as we try to
receive all visitors. It was during his last visit that my father's
suspicions concerning him were confirmed."
"Then," cried I, "why did you not arrest him?"
"I may also say," went on Otho, without seeming to notice me, "that by
some secret means unknown to us, he left on the same night he arrived
with Roger Trevanion. But even had he stayed he would have been safe."
"Why?" asked Sir John Grenville.
"Because," replied Otho, "he entered our house as a guest,--as a humble
one, it is true, but still as a guest, and therefore we could take no
steps against him. When gone, however, and we had been able to verify
our doubts concerning him, I deemed it right to mention the fact of his
visit to my Lord Falmouth."
"But he hath long been known to me as a dangerous man," cried Hugh
Boscawen.
"We live far away from centers of information at Endellion," replied
Otho humbly.
"And you say that Roger Trevanion knows where this man can be found?"
"I know that he has been the companion of the man," replied Otho, "and
that he can probably tell where he now resides."
"I do not know," I replied, thinking that he might have removed from the
lonely chapel.
"When saw you him last, and where?" asked Hugh Boscawen.
Again I hesitated. Ought I to tell of the old man's whereabouts? I
could not see into the depths of Otho Killigrew's mind, but I felt
assured that he had some purpose in bringing in Uncle Anthony's name.
Did he desire to punish him for assisting Mistress Nancy Molesworth's
escape? Did he think I might be led to speak of him and thus tell of my
purpose in coming to Endellion. I was sure that this puzzled him sorely.
Was it to find out this that he had braved the danger of visiting
Tregothnan, the home of the man whose joy it was to find out treason and
punish it? I knew next to nothing of the old story-teller. He might or
might not be a political meddler. I was sure, however, that he was
shrewd beyond common, and would have friends unknown to me. He had many
hiding-places too, and in spite of his wound it was not likely that he
would stay at the hermit's chapel.
Then another thought struck me. If it was the purpose of Hugh Boscawen
to arrest Uncle Anthony, the old man would surely be aware of it, and
any information I might be able to give would effect but little. On the
other hand, if he were told that Otho Killigrew had laid information
concerning him, the keen old recluse would not hesitate to make out a
bad case against the Killigrews, and, in spite of the part they were
playing, would pull their mask aside, and show the Viscount their real
sentiments. I therefore determined to speak freely.
"When I last saw Uncle Anthony," I replied, "he was lying in a lonely
chapel in the parish of St. Mawgan. He had been wounded by Otho
Killigrew for seeking to defeat his evil purposes."
"What evil purposes?"
"I will let the old droll answer that, when you have taken him," I
replied; "but it had naught to do with treason against the king."
"Had it to do with the purpose for which you say you went to Endellion?"
asked Sir John Grenville.
"It had, Sir John."
"Then let me tell you this," said the baronet, "it will be well for you
if you will tell us the reason for which you took this journey and the
event which led to this charge being made against you."
At that moment I turned and caught the eye of Otho Killigrew; and from
the eagerness with which he looked at me, I knew that he longed for me
to answer Sir John's question. Was there something lurking behind of
which I had no knowledge? Had Peter Trevisa and his son told me
everything when he asked me to bring the maid, Nancy Molesworth, to
them? Had Otho Killigrew come to the conclusion that I might help him to
find out some valuable secrets? During the time he had been accusing me
of treason, he had never once hinted at the truth. Did he know where
Mistress Nancy was? And more than this, might not one of his reasons for
placing himself in danger in order to cause my arrest be that he feared
me? I remembered now that I knew nothing of the maid Nancy's life prior
to her coming to Endellion, and I reproached myself for not asking her.
All this flashed through my mind in a second, and determined me more
than ever to let drop no hint as to the truth. Possibly I should be
doing the maid I loved incalculable injury by so doing, for I knew that
Otho Killigrew was merciless.
"There be certain things, Sir John, which a gentleman may not tell," I
replied. "You will know as well as I that the Trevanions have more than
once suffered rather than endanger the fair fame of a lady. I can only
give you my word of honour that I never dreamed of treason, and that if
it become necessary I am willing to take up arms for the king."
"Methinks he tries to make me out a liar," replied Otho Killigrew,
speaking more quickly than was his wont; "I will be willing to withdraw
my charges if he will make it clear that what he has just said is true.
We be all gentlemen here, and not one of us would let the fair name of a
lady suffer."
By speaking thus he confirmed my suspicions, and I still held my peace.
Possibly Hugh Boscawen and Sir John Grenville, in their over-zeal for
the king, their minds poisoned by the cunning of Otho Killigrew, might
commit me for public trial, but I did not fear that. I feared rather
that by speaking I should give Killigrew a power which he did not now
possess, even though my knowledge was meager in extreme.
After this I was asked many more questions, some of them concerning
Uncle Anthony, and others about matters which seemed to me trivial
beyond measure; but I was not able to assure my judges of my innocence,
and I was at length condemned to be imprisoned at Launceston Castle
until such time as I could be publicly tried.
Now this was sore grief to me, for I should thus leave the maid Nancy in
the hands of Peter Trevisa and his son, or, what would be worse, at the
mercy of Otho Killigrew. It is true there seemed but little danger that
Peter Trevisa would play into Otho's hands, but I had many doubts.
"My lord," I said, as soon as I was able to collect my thoughts "as you
know, I have been away from Trevanion for many days. May I pray your
clemency in so far that I may be allowed to return for a few hours in
order to consult my attorney and make other simple arrangements
concerning my servants?"
"This shall be granted," replied Hugh Boscawen. "It would ill beseem
that one of your name should be treated with lack of due courtesy. You
shall, therefore, ride to your house as a free man might; you shall also
be allowed to see your attorney. Furthermore, there is no need that for
the present the knowledge of the charges laid against you should become
public."
At this I knew not what to think, for I felt myself as it were in a
network of difficulties, and knew not whether Hugh Boscawen desired to
be my friend or enemy. All the same I determined to make the most of my
opportunities. I immediately sent a message to Lawyer Hendy, therefore,
asking him to meet me at Trevanion, and tried to think of means whereby
I could tell Mistress Nancy of the fate which had befallen me, or,
better still, to see her. Nothing, however, occurred to me on my journey
home; indeed I was kept busy talking with my guardsmen, who, although
they treated me respectfully, watched me closely. Once I thought of
attempting flight, but I reflected that such a course would be unwise,
even if it were possible. Besides, being unarmed, I was very nearly
helpless in such a matter.
I had not long returned to Trevanion when Lawyer Hendy came. He listened
very attentively to my recital of my experiences, but made no comment
thereon. Instead he sat quibbling the end of his riding-whip, like one
in deep thought.
"What is the meaning of this?" I asked presently.
"I cannot tell--yet."
"You think Otho Killigrew has some deep-laid purpose?"
"Possibly. Possibly he is only inspired by a spirit of revenge. But
enough of that for the present. What do you wish done while you are away
at--that is, from home?"
"Before I deal with that," I cried, "I wish to know what happened at
Treviscoe last night?"
"Last night? Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"No."
"But Mistress Nancy wished to speak with you, and you stayed with her.
What had she to say?"
"It is not for me to tell you."
I ground my teeth with impatience. "Then she told you nothing of her
history or purposes?" I asked.
"I did not say so," replied the attorney grimly.
"But she did not know of the danger in which I stood?"
"Yes."
"What!"
"Do not misunderstand. She knew that you were in danger, because she
knew Otho Killigrew; but she knew nothing, suspected nothing of the
course events would take."
"I should like her to know what has happened to me," I said, "otherwise
she will think I am unwilling to render her further service. Would you
take a letter to her? I am allowed to write letters."
"I would if I could, but I cannot."
"Cannot, why?"
"Because I do not know where she is."
"What do you mean, Hendy?" I cried. "You left her last night at
Treviscoe!"
"I mean, Master Roger Trevanion," said the attorney slowly, but speaking
every word plainly, "that I do not know where the lady Mistress Nancy
Molesworth is."
"Then get to know through Peter Trevisa."
"He doth not know!"
"How?" I cried, now truly amazed.
"Because she is gone, and Peter Trevisa is as ignorant of her
whereabouts as you are."
"Then she is in Otho Killigrew's hands."
"I do not think so."
"Your reason for that?" I cried.
"Because there are no evidences of it. She left Treviscoe last night,
not many hours after I left, at least such is Peter Trevisa's opinion.
He sent for me early this morning, and on my arrival I found him like
one demented. The maid had crept out of the house with her servant, and
had themselves saddled the horses and rode them away."
"And left no traces behind?"
"Not a trace."
"But did she hold any conversation with Peter Trevisa after you had
left?"
The lawyer gave a start. "I had not thought of that," he said hastily.
"Look you, Hendy," I cried, for the time forgetting that in an hour or
so I should be on my way to Launceston jail, "I have puzzled my brains
sorely concerning this. Do you know the history of the business?"
"I think so; yes. Trevisa has been obliged to tell me."
"Has he told you why he wished the maid brought to Treviscoe?"
"No--that is, beyond what he told you."
"You mean that young Peter had fallen in love with her?"
"That is it."
"But that cannot be all; he would never wish her brought to Treviscoe
unless he had some powerful reason to urge to the maid for the course he
had taken."
"I think you are right."
"Have you any idea what the reason is?"
"No."
"Do you think he tried its effects last night?"
Mr. Hendy was silent.
"It might have miscarried, you know," I continued eagerly; but the old
attorney spoke no word, instead he walked to and fro the room as though
cogitating deeply.
An hour later I was on horseback again, and proceeded under the charge
of four men towards Launceston, a town situated on the extreme borders
of the county, where at that time one of the county jails was situated.