I ESCAPE FROM THE WITCH'S TOWER.
As may be imagined, the sight of Otho Killigrew set me a-wondering much,
for I knew he would not come to see me save for important reasons.
Doubtless he fancied I was in possession of some knowledge which he
hoped I might impart; but I hoped that by being careful I might lead him
to betray more to me than I should communicate to him.
I therefore received him civilly, hard as it was to do so, but I saw
that he lacked his usual self-possession. He spoke more quickly than was
his wont, and his mouth twitched as though he were nervous and much
wrought upon.
"Trevanion," he said, when we were presently left alone, "we have been
fighting a battle which I have won."
"I thought so until I saw you coming towards me just now," was my reply
as I watched him closely.
He flushed angrily, for he saw that I had divined his motives; but he
stuck to his guns.
"Which I have won," he repeated. "When the assizes come off I shall have
to appear against you. I have only to repeat the evidence I gave to
Boscawen, and you will swing."
"Possibly yes, probably no," was my reply.
"What do you mean?"
"Look you," I said boldly; "when I set out for Endellion I imagined the
kind of men I had to contend with; when I entered your house I took the
measure of your whole tribe. I knew that the Killigrews of Falmouth,
before that branch of the family died out, were honest loyal gentlemen,
but I saw that the Killigrews of Endellion were----" I stopped.
"What?" he asked.
"I will reserve my opinion," I replied; "but I can tell you this, I did
not go like a lamb to the slaughter."
"It seems to me that you did," he replied with a sneer. "True, you
seemed to win for a time, and you succeeded in taking away my affianced
wife. But what is the result of it? You are in the county jail for
treason, and the hangman's rope is dangling over your head."
"As far as that is concerned," I replied jauntily, for I determined to
put a bold face on the matter, "my neck is as safe as yours, as you will
find out in good time. As for the maid, she is where you will never get
her."
"Do not be too sure," he replied; "we have not earned the title of
sleuthhounds for nothing."
My breath came freer as he said this. I believed that he was ignorant of
the maid Nancy's whereabouts. Probably he had come to me in order to
obtain information.
"Moreover," he went on, "you are here on a very grave charge. Unless it
is to my interest to do otherwise, I shall certainly give evidence
against you at the assizes, and nothing can save you from death."
"Man alive," I replied, "you do not hold the destinies of the world in
your hand. There be men born of women besides Otho Killigrew."
"But none that can save you."
"I have no doubt but that you are a clever fellow, Killigrew," I said;
"but omniscience belongeth not to man."
"Well, who can save you?"
"Those who _will_ save me at the proper time."
"Uncle Anthony cannot give evidence; he dare not show himself," replied
Otho; "neither will Nancy. She would thereby frustrate all her desires."
Little as he might suspect it, he had by this answer revealed something
of his mind to me. For one thing, Uncle Anthony was still at large, and
it was evident that he thought the maid Nancy would sacrifice much by
appearing in a public way.
"And what desires would she frustrate?" I asked with a laugh.
"Maybe you know, may be you do not. I will assume that you do not," was
his answer.
I laughed again, for I saw what his answer might mean. Upon this he
looked glum for some seconds, and seemed to hesitate as to what steps he
should take.
"Look here," he cried presently. "I will admit you are a clever fellow,
Trevanion. It is a compliment you paid me, and I will return it. I will
not pretend that I came here out of pure desire to set you free. I did
not. But I can set you free!"
"Undoubtedly."
"And I will--if you, that is, if you make it worth while."
"You wish to bargain with me, I know," was my answer; "why did you not
say so at first? But a bargain assumes _quid pro quo_."
"Well, I'll give you as much as you give me."
"What will you give?"
"Your liberty."
"And what do you require?"
He hesitated a second, and then he spoke in his old measured way.
"First, I require to know where Mistress Nancy Molesworth is now.
Second, I wish you to tell me your reasons for taking her away from
Endellion. Third, I desire to be informed of all you know concerning
that lady."
It was in the last question that my interest particularly lay. For, as
the readers of this history know, I myself was in almost total ignorance
of the things he desired to know. It is true, if I told him of my
conversation with Peter Trevisa and his son, he would form his own
surmises concerning Peter's plans, but even then I doubted if I should
impart the information he wanted.
"You must surely know more about Mistress Nancy than I," I replied
evasively. "Did your father not take her at the death of her father? Did
he not send her to France? Did you not receive her at Endellion a few
months ago? What, then, should there be for me to impart?"
"You know," he answered; "be frank with me. You were with her alone for
many hours, and she told you many things."
"True, she told me many things," I replied; "but concerning what do you
wish me to speak?"
Again he hesitated. I saw that he was afraid lest he might betray
himself, and this was what I desired him to do.
"What do you know of her parentage, her father and mother's marriage?
What of her father's will?"
"Was there a will?" I said at a venture, because I saw that it was by an
effort that he mentioned it.
His face turned pale. Evidently I had touched a sore spot. My heart gave
a bound, for I connected his question with the remark the priest had let
fall at Padstow and Peter Trevisa's desire to get the maid at Treviscoe.
"Come, Trevanion," he said again, "let us be frank."
"Yes," I replied; "let us be frank. At present it is you who ask all the
questions, while you give no information yourself."
"I have offered to pay you for your information," he said. "I have
offered you your liberty."
"True," I answered, "you have offered it; but what assurance have I that
you would fulfil your promise? I would not trust you as far as I could
throw a bull by the horns. You have asked me many questions. By
answering them I should place a great deal of power in your hands.
Directly I told you all that you desire to know, you would leave
Launceston and act on the information I have given; then when I am
tried, what proof have I that you will tell the truth?"
"On my word of sacred honour, I will set you free."
"A snap of my finger for your sacred honour, Otho Killigrew," I cried,
suiting the action to the word. "Indeed, I very much doubt if you dare
to give such evidence as might set me free. Your family is too deeply
implicated."
"Trust Otho Killigrew for that," he replied scornfully; "I always play
to win."
"Look you," I said at length, "assuming that the charges you have
brought against me are not shown to be worthless before the assizes, and
reckoning that an order does not come from Hugh Boscawen to set me at
liberty, I might on certain conditions be inclined to make a promise."
"What?" he cried eagerly.
"I expect that in the ordinary course of things my trial will come off
in about a month," I said. "Well, if I am brought to trial, and you give
such evidence as will set me free, then when I am out of all danger I
might tell you what I know."
"You do not trust me?"
"Not a whit."
"Yet you expect me to trust you."
"A Trevanion never yet broke his word, while the promises of the
Endellion Killigrews are as brittle as pie-crust."
I thought I was fairly safe in making this promise. I should in this
case insure my liberty; at any rate, I should give Otho a great
incentive to do his best to prove my innocence. Moreover, I had but
little to tell, even if I related all the suspicions to which I have
referred, and which shall be set down in due order. And even if my
information should be the means of placing the maid Nancy in Otho's
power, I should be at liberty to act on her behalf.
"A month, a month," he said at length, as if musing.
"During which time I shall be within the boundary walls of Launceston
Castle," I replied.
"But if I go to Hugh Boscawen, and prevail upon him to give an order for
your release before the trial?"
"Of course the promise holds good," and I laughed inwardly as I thought
how little I could tell him.
"You will tell me where Mistress Nancy Molesworth is?" he cried.
"I will tell you where I took her," I replied.
"And why you took her away from Endellion?"
"Yes."
For a few seconds he hesitated as if in doubt. "In three days I will
return with an order for your release," he cried.
After he had gone, I almost repented for what I had done, for I felt
afraid of Otho Killigrew. He played his cards in such a manner that I
did not know what he held in his hand. I realized that by telling him
who it was that employed me, I might give him an advantage, the full
meaning of which I could not understand. True, I should be at liberty
before telling him, and thus I had fancied I should be free to take
action in the maid's defence. But on consideration I could not but
remember that his fertile brain might conceive a dozen things whereby,
although I might be free from the charge of treason, I could still be
made powerless to render service.
However, nothing could be accomplished without risk, and possibly the
risk that I had taken was the least possible under the circumstances. I
therefore tried to make plans of action which I might carry into effect
the hour I regained my liberty. Presently the old thought of seeking to
escape grew upon me. Supposing I could get away from the castle, I
should at the end of the three days be free from pursuit, for once Hugh
Boscawen's warrant were in Pyper's hands he could no longer be justified
in searching for me. The difficulty was in getting away and then eluding
my pursuers until such time as the governor should receive Falmouth's
communication. I had many times considered the position of the Witch's
Tower, which was not far from the boundary walls of the castle grounds.
I saw that, in order to escape, I must first of all be able to either
break down the door or squeeze my body through one of the slits in the
walls of the tower. To do either of these things was not easy. The door
was heavy and iron-studded, besides being carefully locked; the slits in
the wall, which were really intended as windows, were very narrow,
certainly not wide enough for a man of my build to squeeze himself
through. But supposing this could be done, there were still the boundary
walls of the castle grounds which stood in the way of my escape. During
the hours of daylight, when I had been allowed to walk around the prison
grounds, I had carefully examined these, and I fancied I could manage to
scale them in one or two places. But they were closely watched through
the day, and at night I with the other prisoners was safely under lock
and bolt.
Jenkins, the turnkey, was a man of average build and strength, and
should a favourable opportunity occur I could doubtless easily gag him
and take away his keys; but such an experiment was fraught with much
danger. Throughout the whole of the night following Otho Killigrew's
visit, during which time he was riding southward, I worked out my plans,
and when morning came prepared to carry them into effect. Although I
watched carefully through the whole of the morning no opportunity came,
and when the afternoon drew to a close and I had not even begun to act,
I felt exceedingly despondent.
Two days after Otho Killigrew's visit, about an hour before sunset, I
saw Jenkins trying, as I thought, to catch my attention. He winked at me
several times, and placed his forefinger on his lip as though he
meditated on some secret thing. Lethbridge, however, was with him, and
so there was no opportunity for me to ask him what he meant. After a
while, however, seeing that Lethbridge had turned his back on us, he put
a letter in my hand.
As may be imagined, as soon as I was able I broke the seal and read the
contents. It was written boldly in a man's hand. This was how it ran:
"At ten o'clock to-night the warder will visit you. He will be
alone. You must bind and gag him. Means to do this will be found in
his pockets. You must then leave the tower and make your way to the
angle in the boundary wall nearest your prison. You will there find
a rope hanging. On the other side of the wall you will find
friends."
I had never hoped for such a message as this. I had expected to be
shortly visited by Lawyer Hendy, but the thought that any one had been
planning for my escape had never occurred to me. Who my friends might be
I knew not, but they had evidently bribed Jenkins, at least such was my
thought.
For an hour I was jubilant, but at the end of the time doubts began to
cross my mind. Was this some ruse of the Killigrews? Should I escape
only to tell Otho what I had promised him and then be captured by the
prison authorities? Again and again I looked at the handwriting. It was
altogether strange to me; but it was evidently the work of a man. Who
then but Otho would take such a step?
And yet on reconsideration I thought he would know me better than to
believe I should answer his questions under such circumstances. He had
promised to prove my innocence to Lord Falmouth, and to obtain from him
a written warrant for my liberty. No, no; it must be some one other than
Otho. But who?
Uncle Anthony!
No sooner had the thought of him occurred to me than all my doubts
departed. The mysterious old hermit and storyteller had heard of my
condition, he had come to Launceston, and by methods peculiar to himself
had obtained an influence over Jenkins. Again I read the letter, and I
felt sure I saw his hand and mind in every word.
Doubtless, too, he would be able to tell me much about the maid Nancy
which I desired to know, and perchance give me power over the
Killigrews. He had doubtless formed a plan of action and provided means
to carry it out. I could have laughed aloud, and even then I thought I
could see the grim smile upon the old man's face and the curious twinkle
of his deep-set eyes.
Eagerly I waited for ten o'clock to come. Never did minutes seem to drag
along so wearily, never had the silence of my prison seemed so
oppressive.
After much weary waiting, a clock began to strike. I counted the strokes
eagerly. It had struck ten. It was the church clock which struck, and I
knew that the jail was ordered by the time thereby indicated. For as all
who have been to Launceston know, the parish church is situated near the
castle, and is of rare beauty, while the sound of the bells seems to
come from the very heart of the ancient fortress.
Knowing that the hour mentioned in the letter had arrived, therefore, I
was, if possible, more eagerly expectant than ever. My heart thumped
loudly at every sound, and in my heart I cursed the wailing of the wind
among the trees, because I thought it kept me from hearing the first
approach of my jailer.
For a long weary time I waited, but no footsteps greeted my ears. I felt
my nerves tingling even to the bottom of my feet, and a thousand times I
imagined whisperings and altercations which had no actual existence.
Presently the church clock struck again, and its deep tones echoed
across the valley towards St. Thomas' Church, and also towards St.
Stephen's, both of which lay in the near distance. Doubtless the rest of
the prisoners were asleep, and the sonorous sounds sweeping across hill
and dale was nothing to them. But to me it came like a death-knell to my
hopes. An hour had passed since the time mentioned in the letter I had
received had come, and still I had heard no one approach.
I placed my body against the door and pressed hardly. It yielded not one
whit. I climbed to one of the windows in the wall and looked out. The
night was drear, the clouds hung heavily in the sky, neither moon nor
stars appeared. No sound reached me save the sighing of the wind among
the branches of the trees.
Still I waited, still I listened--all in vain.
The clock struck twelve.
As the sound of the last stroke of the bell died away, I heard something
outside like the croaking of a raven; a few seconds later I heard
whispering voices.
Again I climbed to the window in the wall and looked out. Beneath me,
perhaps ten feet down, I saw two human figures. One I thought I
recognized as Jenkins, the other was strange to me. The man whom I
concluded to be Jenkins carried a lantern in his hand, but it was but
dimly lighted. When lifted, however, it revealed to me a form wrapped in
a long cloak. No face was visible; it was hidden by a hood attached to
the cloak.
"Open the door of the tower, I tell you."
"I dare not." It was Jenkins who spoke, and his voice was full of fear.
"But you promised."
"I know I did; but I be feared, I tell 'ee. I shud be axed questshuns,
and I be es fullish as a cheeld."
"I gave you money."
"I know you ded; but there, I tell 'ee I caan't. Go 'way, do'ee now, or
we sh'll be vound out, an' it'll go 'ard wi oal ov us."
"But I promised that all should be well with you, and that you should
have a big reward."
"I knaw, I knaw. That maid you 'ad maade me veel silly, and she cud make
me promise anything, but that was in the daytime, when I wos as bould as
a lion. But tes night now, and I be feared, I tell 'ee. Besides, how
could you make et right fur me; ya be'ant nothin' but a youngish chap.
Who be 'ee? What be 'ee called?"
"Who am I?" and as if by magic the voice which had reached me in a
hoarse whisper now became like that of an old woman. It was pitched in a
high key and it quavered much, save when it took a lower tone, and then
it became like the croaking of a raven.
"Open the door of my tower," said the voice.
I could scarce help trembling myself as I heard the tones, but the
effect on Jenkins was more marked.
"_Your_ tower; oa my Gor!" he moaned.
"Yes, my tower," said the voice, still alternating between the tones of
an old toothless woman and the hoarse croaking of a raven. "My tower;
the place where I was imprisoned, the place where I saw dark spirits of
the dead, and heard the secrets of those who cannot be seen by human
eyes. Here I lay, unloved, uncared for; here my bones were burnt and my
flesh was consumed; here my guilty soul took its flight, only to come
back and haunt my grim prison--sometimes in visible shape, sometimes
unseen save by the eyes of the departed. Open the door of _my_ tower, I
say, or you shall suffer the tortures I suffered!"
"Oa, my Gor, my Gor!" moaned the trembling voice of Jenkins, "tes
Jezebel Grigg, the witch."
"Will you open the door?" continued the voice.
"Oa I caan't!" whined Jenkins like one demented; "when you slocked me
out in the mornin', you wos a spruce chap, and 'ad a purty maid weth
'ee. Oa 'ave marcy 'pon me, mawther Grigg; have marcy 'pon me!"
"Mercy," was the reply, "mercy! You have broken your word--disobeyed me.
What shall keep me from causing your flesh to drop from your bones, your
fingers to wither amidst agonies of pain, your every limb to burn even
as mine burned when the fires were lit around me? Do you want to keep
company with me, John Jenkins? Open the door, or prepare to go with me
to-night!"
"Oa, I will, I will," moaned Jenkins; "I will; but how did 'ee git in
'ere? The doors and gaates be all locked."
"What are doors and gates to Jezebel Grigg's spirit?" and the hooded
form laughed; and the laugh to my excited ears was like the croaking of
a raven into which the spirit of evil had entered.
I heard the clanking of keys at the door, and a second later Jenkins
entered, the lantern shaking in his hand, his face pale as death.
"I say, Maaster," he said, his teeth chattering, his voice quavering.
"Yes," was my reply, and if the truth must be told my heart quaked
somewhat, for by his side was the strange hooded form.
"Follow me, Roger Trevanion," said the voice.
"Where?" I asked.
"To freedom."
"Freedom from what?" for I liked not the dark shapeless thing greatly,
although I seemed to be upheld in a way I knew not.
"From the law, from the Killigrews," was the reply in a hoarse whisper.
"Very well," was my reply. "I am ready to follow you."
"John Jenkins, you will take Roger Trevanion's place this night," said
my deliverer.
"No, no," cried John, "I darn't stay 'ere oal by myself in your tower."
"Speak as loud as that again, and you will follow me whither you would
not go. Listen, John Jenkins. You must stay here. I promise you this: no
harm shall come to you. I will not haunt the tower this night. There,
lie on the straw. If you make a sound before the church clock strikes
seven to-morrow morning you shall feel the power of Jezebel Grigg, the
witch who was burnt here. When you are asked questions in the morning,
tell the governor that you were seeing that all was safe for the night
when I came and put you here. Give me your keys."
Like a thing half dead he obeyed, and though I was not altogether free
from superstitious fear I could not help laughing at the fellow's agony.
"Now follow me, Roger Trevanion," said the hooded form, turning to me,
still in the voice of a toothless old woman.
I followed without a word, but not without many misgivings, for although
I had professed to scorn the power of witches, I was at that time sore
distraught. Still she promised me liberty, and in my inmost heart I
believed that the creature was a friend.
When we were outside the tower she locked the door carefully and placed
the key close by. After this she led the way to the angle in the wall
spoken of in the letter, where I saw the end of a rope ladder.
"Climb, Roger Trevanion," she whispered.
"You are a woman; go first," I said.
"Climb, Roger Trevanion," she repeated imperiously; "your danger is
greater than mine."
Much as I disliked doing this I obeyed. A few seconds later I stood on
the top of the wall, and turning round I saw the dim outline of the
castle looming up into the dark sky, while lying beneath it was the
unwholesome den where the prisoners lay. Looking beneath me, I could see
the hooded form of my deliverer, standing as still as a statue. On the
other side I saw three horses saddled.
"Hold the rope while I climb."
I held the rope as commanded, and a minute later the woman stood by my
side.
"Could you leap to that branch of the tree, and descend to the path that
way?" she said, pointing to the spreading branches of an elm-tree which
grew close by.
"Easily," I replied.
"Then hold the ladder while I descend."
Like one in a dream I obeyed, and then watched while with great agility
she descended from fifteen to twenty feet below.
"Now be quick," she said, "all is ready."
At that moment my heart gave a great leap, for I heard a cry come from
the Witch's Tower. A wild, despairing cry, more like the yell of a wild
beast than that of a human being.
I took my hands from the rope, and immediately it was pulled away. I was
on the top of the castle wall alone.
"Be quick, quick, or all is lost," cried a voice peremptorily from
beneath.
I did not hesitate, dangerous as my feat was. In the gloom of the night
I saw the dark branch of the tree; I gave a leap towards it and caught
it. The branch yielded with my weight so much that my feet were only a
few feet from the ground.
"Let go, let go!"
I obeyed the command and dropped harmlessly to the ground.
"Now be quick and mount!"
A horse stood by my side, saddled and bridled. In an instant I leapt on
its back, noticing as I did so that I had now two companions instead of
one, and that they also mounted the horses that stood waiting.
"Ride hard!" said my deliverer, turning her horse's face southward.
I gladly obeyed, for I breathed the air of freedom. I was now outside
the great high walls within which I had been confined. The spring air
seemed sweeter there, while my heart grew warm again and all feelings of
fear departed. Midnight as it was, and dark as was the gloomy prison
from which I had escaped I seemed in a land of enchantment.
Again a cry, a fearful agonizing cry came from the Witch's Tower, which
made me laugh aloud, for Jenkins' fears seemed foolish as I struck my
heels into my horse's sides.
Neither of my companions spoke; they seemed as eager to get away as I.
We made no noise, for we rode through a meadow. Presently, however, we
jumped a low hedge, and then the iron hoofs of our steeds rang out on
the hard highway, but even as they did so we could hear the fearful cry
of John Jenkins, who lay imprisoned within the dark walls of the Witch's
Tower.