THE COINERS’ CAVERN—SUBTERRANEAN ABODES—THE OATH—THE RELEASE—THE
PROMISE.
“I don’t much like this, Master Ned,” exclaimed Tim, shivering,
“where can we be going to?”
“Hold your tongue, you prating fool,” replied Ned, angrily, “your
idle words will do more harm than good; do you hear me say anything?”
“All right, Master, but I ain’t Wildfire Ned, you know; I ain’t made
of cast-iron.”
Tim would have added something else, but a violent jerking of the
machine under his feet convinced him that they had reached the bottom.
Before he had time to recover from the shock, he was seized by two or
three powerful men, who bound his arms behind him, and led him away.
They also blindfolded him, in spite of his groans for mercy, and,
after dragging him along for about a hundred yards, they stopped,
and, loosening the bandage from his eyes, thrust him under a vaulted
arch.
He was evidently far under ground, and the soil on which he stood was
of a whitish colour, similar to that in a lead mine.
The water was trickling down through the fissures of the rocks, and
formed all around a stagnant pool.
But what struck Ned most forcibly was the singular appearance of his
assassins, for as such he deemed them now to be.
They were all dressed in coarse baize coats, which reached to their
knees, and were fastened in front by a huge clasp.
They wore leather breeches, covered by large top boots, which
confined the greatest part of their legs.
Each of them had a couple of double-barrelled pistols stuck in his
belt, and a rough beard flowed upon their breasts.
“I say, Nat!” cried one of the ruffians, “what shall we do with this
black-looking scoundrel, the servant?”
“Why, leave him here, to be sure,” replied the tallest of the three,
“and you shall guard him, it’s _your_ turn to be on duty to-night,
and you may as well take it here, as stand at the tower; and to keep
you from the cold, here’s my cloak, which will keep out the shivers,
I’ll warrant ye.”
This said he took the arm of his companion, and left Tim, with his
guard, who began to pace up and down, without exchanging a single
word with the prisoner.
But to return to Ned.
He shared no better fate than his servant, and before he had time to
use his good sword, he was bound, and ordered to march forward.
He was led through the midst of five, and then into a sixth spacious
apartment, dug in the earth, and lighted by a dim lamp, hanging in
the centre.
He was requested by one of his conductors to sit on a bench.
Two of the band left the room, and the others sat near the entrance,
and engaged in a whispering conversation.
Ned was then left to his own reflections, which were not of a
tranquillising nature.
Nearly half an hour had elapsed when the two men mentioned above
reappeared bearing lighted torches and an order from the captain to
see the prisoner.
Young Ned Warbeck was now fully aware that he was in a cave of
robbers, and he made up his mind for the worst, and marched boldly at
the summons of one who seemed to be the leader of the band.
They proceeded, at a quick pace, through numerous vaulted arches,
similar to which Ned had been confined in, and they were soon in the
presence of the captain.
He was seated at a table with a bundle of papers in his left hand,
and a sword in his right.
His dress was the same as that of his followers.
What distinguished him from the rest was a pair of long moustachios
in addition to the beard, and a yellow band round his waist
His dark glaring eyes were fixed for a moment on the countenance of
the young and handsome prisoner, who was leisurely surveying all
around him.
“Unloose this young man,” said the captain, “and stand aside.”
Ned was immediately released from his bonds, and his guards took
their places silently behind him.
The captain spent a few minutes in conference with some of his
associates.
During this time young Ned had the leisure to perceive that he was
mistaken in his conjectures respecting those whom he had taken for
robbers; though not of a very different avocation, they could not
literally be entitled to that appellation.
They were (as he plainly saw by the dye, which at first had escaped
his enquiring eyes, and by the heaps of blanks all ready for
impression), a set of men who defraud the revenue by circulating, to
the detriment of the Mint, immense quantities of base coin—in fact,
they were Coiners.
He knew not whether he had any right to be satisfied with the
change; for, thought he, a robber will take your life rather than be
detected, so would a coiner, rather than have his lawless proceedings
come to light, have recourse to any means; but then, would they have
forced him, as it were, to be an eye-witness of their crimes for the
sole purpose of murdering him in cold blood?
These were his thoughts, which were diverted by an appeal from the
captain—to answer his purposes.
“Who are you? What are you? and whence do you come?” asked the
captain.
“My name is Warbeck. I am an officer in the king’s navy, and have
come from Plymouth.”
“Well answered. Now, what brought you here?”
Ned Warbeck, in a few words, stated the circumstances above mentioned.
“Young man,” resumed the captain, “you stand charged with having
fired at one of my men; of this I will keep little or no account, it
was, as you might rightly observe, in self-defence. You have proved
yourself bold and worthy of your profession. Many others have been
driven from the landlord’s house by the same means.
“Though under very little fear of detection, as the entrance to our
subterranean dwellings is known to no others but to ourselves, we
have, nevertheless, thought it advisable to adopt some method of
screening ourselves more effectually.
“We resolved to render that house uninhabitable.
“We bought it, but not being known in the neighbourhood, and never
going out by night, and that only once a month to buy provisions, we
deemed it useless, and therefore concocted the plan which you have
witnessed, and which you must own requires as stout a heart as your
own to withstand.
“The man whom you fired at, unaccustomed to such resistance, against
which, however, he was well provided, having upon him a thick steel
armour and fire-arms, thought it necessary to entice you to the
trap-door, and bring you among us with your servant you may think
his conduct impudent, such is also our opinion of it.
“At the first notice of your arrest, we were both surprised and
astounded.
“We took council together; you were at first doomed to perpetual
imprisonment in one of the vaults, or to be immediately put to death.
“At length your youth and courage prevailed, and it was resolved
that you should be set at liberty, if you agree to the following
conditions.
“First, you must swear by what is most sacred to a sailor, your
honour, never to mention to any one what you have seen here this
night, not even to give the slightest hint about it.
“Second, At your return to the landlord, you must tell him that you
were dreadfully frightened and alarmed at the apparition you saw in
his house, and engage him to pull it down, and make the best of the
materials, as nobody will ever live among spectres who have sworn
vengeance to him and his family if the house be inhabited.
“Should you consent to these conditions, you shall be set free, and
your servant also.
“But mind, if you ever break the oath that is required of you, on the
least danger threatening us, the next day shall not see you alive.
“We have confederates in all parts of the country, who will avenge
us, and strike the fatal blow your wild will would have deserved.
“Your servant has seen nothing since he has been among us.
“Should he attempt to speak of being let down a trap, and seeing
strange men, contradict him flatly, and treat his speech as the
wanderings of an imagination deceived by terror, or the effect of
liquor.
“I leave you now to your reflections, and give you an hour to make up
your mind.”
The captain then rose, and walked to and fro with hurried steps, and
then left the vaulted chamber.
Young Warbeck requested pen, ink, and paper, and wrote as follows:—
“Captain, I have had for a few moments a most terrible struggle in my
mind.
“Honour and duty have alternately presented themselves to my
imagination, but I have at last concluded that I can, by fulfilling
what you require of me, keep the one unspotted without departing from
the other.
“I will take the oath demanded.
“Your humanity and sense of honour have brought me to this
determination, which fear or threats could not have extorted from me.”
He awaited with impatience the captain’s return, who in about an hour
re-entered and took his seat at table.
Ned then handed him the letter he had just written.
The captain cast a rapid glance over the contents, and rising bade
Ned Warbeck lift up his hand, and solemnly take the oath.
This done, he stepped towards him, and restored to him his sword, in
token of freedom.
He gave him also two guides, who led him quickly for about six or
seven hundred yards, under immense arches formed by nature, and
brought him out near a torrent bordered by a thicket of brushwood.
Two horses were here in readiness for Ned Warbeck and Tim.
As they mounted to ride away, their conductors said, in solemn,
warning tones,
“Remember your oath!”
“I will,” said Ned, in an undertone.
He and Tim rode rapidly away.