COLONEL BLOOD MEETS A TARTAR—THE RELEASE OF ELLEN HARMER—THE MURDER
IN THE WOOD.
Tom Bates had not gone very far from the rendezvous of the Dozen,
and was trudging along through the wind and rain, forming plans for
that night’s operations, when some one in a dark street laid his hand
roughly on his shoulder.
Tom stopped as if by instinct.
“That you, colonel?” he asked.
“That you, Bates?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come this way out of the rain,” said he.
And he led the way up a dark, narrow alley, which was lighted by a
single lamp.
“Well, and what news, Bates? Have you secured that reprobate Captain
Jack yet?”
“No, colonel; it is a more difficult matter than might be supposed.”
“Where is he, then?
“I know not, colonel, but imagine that now we are after him he is
hiding away in some of the back slums in or around London.”
“But how could he have got any information about my wishes or
intentions?”
“That I know not, sir; but certain it is that we have been seeking
for him both high and low in every hole and quarter; but I fear me he
has left London.”
“Left London, and for what, pray?”
“Some two weeks ago, colonel, I heard him say that there were two
proclamations out about an attempted murder and a forcible abduction
case which took place in the village of Darlington not long since.
One and the same person is concerned in both transactions, and
altogether a reward of £500 is offered.”
“Impossible!” said Colonel Blood, biting his lip. “I have never seen
any of these proclamations.”
“Perhaps not, sir; but Captain Jack said, the last time I saw him,
that he had particular reasons for not having them posted up earlier.”
As Bates spoke, Colonel Blood looked straight into his eyes; but so
well did Bates play the hypocrite, that Colonel Blood had not the
slightest notion that he was aware of the real facts of the case.
“And where are these two proclamations, Bates? Have you one with you?”
“Yes, colonel,” said Bates, displaying both at once.
“Strange affair,” said Blood, biting his lips in anger, “I never
heard of all this before.”
Old Bates said not a word; but he could not help but remark how
Colonel Blood’s eyes flashed with anger, and, in his sleeve, he
laughed.
“And so these are the two proclamations you speak of, eh?” said the
colonel, unfolding and reading them. “How did you get them?”
“Captain Jack gave them to me.”
“Damn Captain Jack!” said Blood, stamping his foot in anger; “and so
he has gone down to Darlington to investigate these affairs, eh?”
“Yes, that was his intention. He said he made sure of finding out who
it was who not only attempted to murder Andrew, but who abducted the
girl also.”
“Ha! then he is very clever,” said the colonel.
After a pause, he added—
“Important business obliges me to leave town to-night. I must run
down to Darlington and arrest this troublesome fellow. Captain Jack
is no longer to be trusted: he is not now an officer of the crown,
and, therefore, has no business to trouble himself about what does
not concern him.”
“Leave town to-night, colonel!” said Bates, as if surprised.
“Yes, to-night.”
“It is a dangerous journey.”
“Oh, as to that I have no fears,” said the colonel; “no one will ever
dare to attack me.”
“But what are we to do in the mean time?” said cunning old Bates.
“Are we to give any attention to these two proclamations?”
“No, I think not,” said Blood, “at least not at present; not until I
return to town again. You could never discover the girl’s place of
concealment.”
“But one of my men says, colonel, that he does already know where she
is.”
“Indeed!” said Blood, anxiously. “Know where Ellen Harmer is, eh?
then he must be a very clever fellow, for I don’t.”
“Oh, then, colonel,” said Bates, bowing, and with a smile, “if you
don’t know anything about this matter, I’m sure I do not.”
“Well, no matter, Bates,” said Blood; “I’m glad I’ve seen you, for
Captain Jack must be captured at once, and at all costs, for he is a
troublesome, intriguing busy-body. Remain as quiet as you can until
my return from Darlington. I have plenty of work in store for you.”
“Glad to hear that, colonel.”
“Good paying jobs, I mean.”
“Better still, sir; but—”
“But what, Bates?” said the colonel.
“Oh! I was only about to remark, colonel, that all the lads, and
myself included, are very hard up; if you would so oblige us as to
lend us a hundred or two until your return, we should—”
“I understand; well, no wonder you are out of money, seeing how much
that scoundrel, Captain Jack, appropriated to his own use. Here,”
said he, giving Bates a hundred pound note, “this will serve you
until my return.”
Colonel Blood left Bates in high glee, and went his way.
“Well, this isn’t bad to commence with,” said old Bates, putting the
note into his pocket; “but I mustn’t let any of the lads know I have
got so much. I’ll have it changed, give ’em £10 to drink with, and
the rest I’ll stick to as my own perquisites.”
Bates changed the note, and when he returned, he found his companions
grumbling at his long delay.
The £10, however, revived their drooping spirits.
They called for whatever they liked in eating and drinking, and the
time passed very rapidly.
Most of the Dozen had got well nigh tipsy before the hour of
midnight, and were very noisy.
However, when they had their fill, old Bates called a council of war.
“Look to your weapons, my merry men,” said he; “see that your pistols
are well loaded, and that your swords are not blunt—we’ve got a job
on hand to-night.”
“A job!” said all, in high glee.
“Yes, and one that will pay us well—get yourselves sober, every one
of you.”
“What is it?”
“Are the doors closed?” said Bates. “No one listening, I hope?”
“Not a soul,” said one and all. “What is the job?”
“Who among you loves Colonel Blood? tell me that,” said old Bates.
The name was received with savage oaths.
“Not one, I perceive,” said old Bates; “so much the better. And now
I’ll tell you what I have on hand.”
Solemn silence ensued, as Bates said,
“Blood is going down to Darlington to-night, to arrest Jack, who is
here. I have put the colonel off the right scent.”
“The devil!—to arrest me?” said Jack, with an oath.
“Silence! Jack,” growled several, with threatening looks. “Silence,
and listen to Master Bates; _he_ is our captain now—not you.”
“Well, and while Blood is away on this wild-goose chase, Jack has
proposed to rob his house.”
“Capital idea,” said all.
“So think I,” said Bates; “so come, prepare yourselves. Put masks in
your pockets, and bring a rope ladder with you.”
“And dark lanterns,” said Jack.
“A small crowbar to wrench open the shutters,” said Bates, “and in
less than an hour we can ‘clean out’ the whole house. Dead silence
must be kept—not a word spoken by any one.”
“If we meet with resistance——”
“Well, then, use your weapons fearlessly,” said Jack. “The night is
dark and stormy—just the right weather to crack such a crib as his.”
“Come, then,” said Bates, “we’ll take a parting glass, and then away.”
“Agreed, agreed!”
“We musn’t all leave the house together, but go in twos and threes.
Just as the clock strikes one, let every man meet at Colonel Blood’s
house, and hide under the highway.”
This plan was agreed to, and the Dozen separated.
* * * * *
Colonel Blood’s splendid town house was situated in and surrounded
by large and beautiful gardens, near the river bank, not far from
Whitehall Gardens.
The night in question, instead of becoming clearer, got more cloudy
and stormy than ever.
Few persons were to be seen moving about in the streets, for the
weather was too boisterous and threatening.
As the neighbouring church clocks chimed a quarter to one, a stranger
might have perceived sundry persons cautiously approaching Colonel
Blood’s house.
Some came by land, but the majority hired a boat, and quietly rowed
up the river until they got fairly under the garden walls.
The last two persons who arrived, and they on foot, were Captain Jack
and Tom Bates.
As they approached Blood’s mansion, they were accosted by two night
watchmen, who wanted to know their names and business.
“Name?” said Jack, indignantly.
“Our business?” said Bates, striking an attitude of great importance.
“Yes, name and business, gentlemen, if you please.”
“And why so, knaves?” said Captain Jack. “How dare you stop two
gentlemen, and ask such impertinent questions?”
“We do but obey our orders, sirs,” said the night watchman, civilly.
“From your dress and manner, I have no doubt you are a couple of
‘sparks’ returning home, but we have received special orders from
Colonel Blood himself this very night, to allow no one to pass near
his house, after certain hours, without demanding who and what they
are.”
“Why, you impudent fellow,” said Bates, “Colonel Blood is not in
town—he left this evening.”
“Ah, sirs, indeed, then you are beforehand with us—who told you?”
“Why, the colonel himself, knaves,” said Bates. “How dare you stop
me and my companion? We are most intimate friends of the colonel. My
name is Captain Bates, an officer of the Crown.”
“Captain Bates? really, I beg pardon. I did not recollect you. I’m
very sorry.”
“Yes, sir, we are very sorry,” said the other; “and the name of your
tall friend is——”
“Captain! ah, yes, Captain Jenkins,” said Jack, on the instant.
“You see, Captain Bates,” said one of the watchmen, very politely,
“we have especial orders from the colonel himself to allow no one to
pass towards his gardens without we know they are strictly honest and
respectable.”
“And are not we strictly honest and respectable, then, villain?” said
Bates, blustering. “Why, for two pins, I’d——”
“Oh, there cannot be a doubt of that, sir,” said the trembling night
watchman; “you could not be an officer of the crown, else.”
“Quite right,” said Captain Jack, mollified, and drawing the patch
over his eye still lower.
“But you see, Captain Bates, as an officer of the crown, you are
fully aware that all sorts of knaves have tried to rob the gallant
colonel ere now, and at this time, I fear me he has a greater enemy
to contend with than ever before; for I heard to-night, as a very
great secret, that Captain Jack is no longer the chief of the crown
officers, and has been degraded by the colonel; in truth, we have
especial orders to guard the place against him and his gang above all
others.”
“Captain Jack, eh?” said Bates’s long-legged companion. “Ah! now I
come to think of it, I heard something like that spoken of to-night,
while attending the Countess of Gresham’s ball; a great villain that
Captain Jack, I hear.”
“Oh, monstrous,” said the watchmen, in chorus. “Oh, a perfect rogue
and vagabond. Instead of doing his duty in arresting rogues and
rascals, he has been bribed to enormous amounts by them to allow them
to remain at large.”
“Shocking! monstrous!” said Jack.
“Horrible! he ought to be hanged,” said Bates, coughing, “which he
will surely be, if the colonel only lays hands on him.”
So speaking, and bidding them good night, Jack and Bates went on
their way, laughing.
“Fine fellow that Bates,” said one of the watchmen.
“Yes; only for his nose; why, it has got a piece clipped out of it,
which spoils his beauty.”
“He got that in a desperate duel—I once heard him say—but he killed
his antagonist, run him through and through the body; fine fellow is
Bates. How much did he give you to drink his health with?”
“A gold piece.”
“Good luck to him, say I. Let us go into some wine-shop and have a
bottle. What say you? Surely the house will be safe for half-an-hour.”
So speaking, the two watchmen went into the nearest wine-shop that
was open.
Both Bates and Jack had watched them.
“Now’s our time, Bates,” said Jack.
They both disappeared down the dark carriage-way, which was screened
by trees and bushes.
[Illustration: A STORMY INTERVIEW.—_See Number 20._]
They both whistled softly, and the signal was quickly answered.
“All right; the lads are up to their time.”
In a moment, where a second before no one had been seen, eight or
nine men appeared crouching under the garden wall.
“All right,” said one, whispering to Bates.
“Have you taken a good squint all round the house?”
“Yes; all are abed.”
“Sure of that?”
“Positive.”
“But the dogs?”
“We have poisoned them an hour ago; they are all stiff and cold by
this.”
“Then let us commence. Where is the rope-ladder?”
“Here it is,” said one, unwinding a rope-ladder from around his body,
and which had been concealed by a short cloak.
“Let a man watch each side of the house,” said Jack. “Bates and I
will enter, and pass all the valuables out to you; put them into
the boat as fast as possible, and if there should be any alarm, run
towards the river. The boat is large enough to take us all.”
“If we only had skeleton keys now,” said Bates.
“Hang your skeleton keys,” said Jack, in disgust. “Don’t I know all
about the house? I ought to do, for I’ve been in it often enough; no
skeleton keys in the world would open those doors, they are doubly
bolted inside, and cased with iron. Give me the rope-ladder.”
With great dexterity, Captain Jack threw one end of the rope-ladder
up into the air, and the hooks at the end caught in the iron railings
of the balcony.
“Silence!” said Captain Jack, and after trying its strength, he began
to ascend.
* * * * *
But for a moment let us see what was going on inside the house.
Ellen Harmer was confined therein, and was supposed to be strictly
watched both night and day by the deaf and dumb eunuch—the Nubian
slave.
The fame of her great beauty had reached the ears of the king; but
instead of presenting her to majesty, Colonel Blood had made up his
mind to keep her for himself, after having, as he termed it, “tamed
her” into submission.
But this proved a much harder task than the colonel had ever imagined.
Ellen Harmer would _not_ “be tamed.”
The colonel had offered her wealth and luxury; but she received all
his unmanly proposals with scorn.
“I can afford to wait,” thought the hard-hearted colonel. “I can
afford to wait, a month or two of confinement and pampering will soon
bring down her proud spirit.”
In hopes of keeping her away from the king, he had removed her first
from one place to another, until at last he imagined that his royal
master had given her up for lost.
This, Colonel Blood fondly hoped _was_ the case.
But he was very much mistaken.
The king had his spies about as well as the cunning colonel; but
it was not until this very day that he had actually discovered the
beautiful Ellen’s hiding-place.
When he heard of it he was in a terrible passion, and for a moment
vowed all manner of things against Blood.
When he heard, however, that the colonel had made a sudden journey to
Darlington, he made up his mind to visit Blood’s mansion alone, and
take her away by force.
He had employed a truculent courtier to be on the spot about three or
four in the morning.
“By which time,” said the king, “I shall have made an impression on
the rustic beauty. If she will not consent to be my mistress, why,
then, I will give the signal, Rochfort, and be you ready with a guard
and a barge to bear her away by force; but let all things be done in
secret so that not a syllable may be known to Blood on his return,
for I want to make a fool of him after all his deception with me.”
These were the instructions given to Rochfort, and at the moment that
Captain Jack was quietly preparing his rope-ladder outside, the king
was already secreted in the mansion.
Ellen Harmer, in her sumptuous chamber, was reclining on a sofa.
She could not sleep, and the splendid bed with its satin hangings was
uncreased.
The Nubian slave stood watching her, and his dark eyes flashed with
admiration as he furtively gazed at the beauty it was his duty to
watch and guard.
Ellen tried to read; but she tossed from her indignantly the only
books the colonel allowed her to receive—namely, some of the
licentious works of the time, which, in our day, would not be
tolerated in the lowest of society: but which in the period we speak
of, passed off for works of wit and amusement.
“Infamous man,” sighed Ellen, “to incarcerate me thus from my poor
old father, and endeavour to poison my heart and mind with such
beastly reading. Oh, that I were free or dead.”
She beckoned to the slave.
He noiselessly approached her, and knelt at her feet.
“You are the only friend I have found,” she whispered.
The slave bent low, and kissed her feet.
“Is the house quiet? Have all retired to rest?” The slave bowed.
“The colonel has left for the country, I have heard.”
Again the slave bowed.
“I would escape from this gaudy dungeon,” she said.
“It is impossible; the doors are all doubly locked and barred; many
fierce dogs are loose in and around the grounds, and would tear you
in pieces,” he whispered.
“Then I fear all hope is lost.”
“Not lost,” said the slave. “Hold your breath; make not the slightest
noise; I have a secret to impart; all hope is not yet lost; this
night is the night of your deliverance.”
“What!” gasped Ellen in a sudden, and half-suppressed tremor of joy.
“The king is in the mansion at this moment.”
“Impossible, slave.”
“’Tis true, fair lady; but, hush, I hear footsteps! hush!”
Ellen did not hear the slightest sound, and seemed to think the slave
was mistaken.
But he was not.
He crept to the chamber door on his hands and feet, and listened.
He held up his finger in token of silence.
Ellen Harmer sat rooted to her seat.
She listened, but not a sound was audible.
“It is the king,” said the Nubian, in the faintest of whispers. “He
came to the house in a good disguise, but I recognised him.”
“If it be the king, then,” said Ellen, “I will throw myself at his
feet, and ask protection from the fiendish designs of your master,
Colonel Blood.”
“It will be useless,” said the slave; “he comes here to take you away
to the palace, or some secret place, for the rumours of your amazing
beauty have entranced him. You are destined to be his mistress or
death awaits you.”
“Then welcome death,” said Ellen, “ere I submit, and degrade myself
to so low a level! Heaven assist me in my sore trial this night!”
While she spoke and wept, the Nubian slave crept back again to the
door.
“I hear his footstep again,” he whispered, and laid his ear close
down to the floor.
At that moment the bed hangings rustled.
With a gasp of horror, Ellen perceived an elegant stranger had
effected an entrance into her chamber.
It was the King!
The slave had not perceived this, and was still listening, with head
averted.
The King, sword in hand, looked at the dusky slave, and breathed a
desperate oath.
He raised his sword, and would have killed the dusky but faithful
Nubian upon the spot.
In an instant, however, Ellen rose from her seat, and falling on her
knees before the King, held up her hands, and with tears in her eyes
begged for his life.
The King turned and smiled, and motioning to a corner, the slave
rose, and crouched in it.
“Move an inch or utter a word,” said he, “and you die.”
“He is deaf and dumb,” said Ellen; “spare the poor docile, faithful
creature. Be merciful, stranger—for pity’s sake, harm him not; he is
the only friend I have!”
“Ah, I forgot, so he is deaf and dumb,” said the King. “I have heard
Blood speak of this eunuch before. For your sake, sweet lady, I spare
him. But, if deaf, why was he listening?”
“He was praying, sir; that is his usual position when at prayers.”
“Ah! so be it, then; I never pray myself—I have forgotten how.”
This he said with a sneering smile, and as he turned towards Ellen,
he dropped upon one knee, and with the sweetest of smiles whispered,
“Fly, lady—fly with me! I have heard of your cruel captivity, and
have come to release you. All is ready for our flight.”
So speaking he rose, and passing his arm round Ellen’s waist, bore
her, more dead than alive, from the chamber.
He doubly locked the door, and entered an adjoining chamber with his
unconscious and fainting victim, in order to await the coming of
Rochfort.
* * * * *
Captain Jack’s head just peeped above the balcony of Ellen Harmer’s
chamber at the moment the King had left it.
Noiselessly he opened the lattice, and, disguised as he was, entered,
pistol in hand.
“I thought I saw a light here a moment ago,” he said; “surely I was
not mistaken.”
He was not; but the King had taken the wax taper with him, and all
was now total darkness.
“Splendid chamber this,” thought Jack, as he turned on his lantern
and gazed around.
He thought in the far corner he could perceive two dark eyes
glistening.
He made a thrust at the spot with his sword.
But the Nubian had perceived him and crept under the bed.
“It must have been a cat, or something,” thought Jack, as he began to
ransack the drawers and wardrobes.
Watches, jewels, silks, satins, and money he found in abundance.
“Hillo! this will do,” he mused, as he filled his pockets in great
haste.
But the next thing to be done was to descend the stairs, so as to
admit his companions.
He was in his stocking feet, and moved about without making the
slightest noise.
After much trouble, he forced back the lock of the chamber door.
Like a cat, he descended the stairs, and withdrew the two huge bolts
of the front door.
This was done without the slightest noise, and several of his gang
entered and distributed themselves all over the mansion.
In a very short time Jack and his comrades stripped the
drawing-rooms, parlours, and other rooms, of all their valuables, and
as quickly as possible filled several sacks with gold and silver ware
from the plate chest in the pantry.
The butler slept in this pantry, but was almost frightened out of his
wits, for one of the band held a pistol at his head while the other
tied him hand and foot and gagged him.
They then began to work, and did not leave a single spoon or fork
behind them.
These bags of spoil were rapidly passed out to old Bates and the
others on watch outside, and conveyed to their boat in the river,
moored under the garden wall.
Captain Jack, however, did not trouble himself much about silver
spoons, or forks, or gold and silver goblets.
He made his way straight towards Colonel Blood’s library.
He closed the door, and then began to ransack every hole and corner
of the apartment.
The drawers were broken open, and everything of no value to him was
strewn about the floor.
In the colonel’s writing-desk, however, he discovered a considerable
sum of money in gold and notes.
More than this, his eyes glistened as he clutched a small bundle of
paper tied up with red ribbon, and sealed with many seals.
This he put into his breast for greater security, for his huge
pockets were bulging out with valuable odds and ends of all sorts.
Having completely despoiled the library, he retraced his steps
upstairs.
“Surely Ellen Harmer must be in the mansion somewhere,” he thought.
As he passed rapidly up the winding stairs towards the colonel’s own
bed-chamber, he stopped and listened.
Two persons were conversing in quick, passionate tones.
The voice of one sounded like that of a female in distress.
Captain Jack listened attentively to all that passed.
“Nay, let me go, I beg of you, as you are a man and a gentleman,”
said the female voice, in tones of anguish.
“Nay dearest,” was the soft reply, “you cannot fly, except with me.
You must—you shall be mine!”
“Rather ten thousand deaths,” was the brave, resolute answer of
the fair one, “rather ten thousand deaths than consent to my own
dishonour! Unhand me, I say, unhand me! I took you for a gentleman—a
man—but I am deceived—you are a scoundrel. Let me go—unhand me, I
say, once for all, or I’ll shame you before all the world—I’ll raise
the whole mansion with my cries.”
“’Tis useless to struggle, angelic being,” was the impassioned
answer; “your beauty has entranced my very soul. Come, let us fly
hence; all wealth, honour, and adulation shall be thine.”
“Help, help, help!” was the female’s feeble cry.
At that time a struggle was heard going on in the room.
At that moment Captain Jack, lantern and sword in hand, dashed the
door open and entered.
Ellen Harmer gave a short, quick cry of joy as she perceived
deliverance at hand.
Instinctively she rushed into the arms of Captain Jack for protection.
The king was amazed.
He made a thrust at Jack.
But next moment the weapon was knocked from his hand.
He now stood, unarmed and defenceless, before the bold intruder.
“Who _art_ thou?” said the king, in surprise.
“Thy equal,” said Jack, in an assumed voice. “What, is it nothing
that you now cringe before me, and yet a moment ago you would for
ever have dishonoured this blameless girl? Out upon thee, for a
craven!”
“Save me, save me!” sobbed Ellen.
“Peace, lass, thou art safe,” said Captain Jack. “And as for thee,”
said he, turning towards the king with a gesture of disgust, “as for
thee, more anon.”
“How, knave, wouldst thou dare to stand there prating to your
superior, when with one word I could have thee hanged? You know not
who nor what I am.”
“Nor do I want to know, sirrah; and mark me do not let thy tongue
wag so carelessly, for by my word, be you king or peasant, I’ll make
a lame duck of ye. Out upon thee, man! would ye, like a cowardly
interloper, come poaching on these strange grounds, when you know the
master is away?”
“What mean ye, impudent rogue?”
“Mean? why, I mean that you had not courage to try your fortune here
while Colonel Blood was at home; but, like a clown, must crawl in
when he had gone away.”
“You seem to know all this?”
“I do,” said Captain Jack, telling a lie. “I know not only all you
would have done, but who you are, for all your disguise.”
“You do?” said the king; “then, as you know me, stranger, reveal not
my name or station.”
And as he spoke he placed one finger on his lip in token of silence.
“’Tis the king,” said Ellen Harmer, “I was told so to-night.”
“No, no——.”
“It is not the king,” said Jack, again telling a lie, “because if he
were he would not give me that signet ring he now wears, as you will
see presently.”
The king smiled, and, taking off his signet ring, gave it to Captain
Jack.
“I told you it was not the king, fair one,” said Jack, lightly
laughing, “for if it had been he would not have so humbled himself;
besides, lassie, the king would never think of insulting a poor
defenceless girl.”
As he spoke these words, Captain Jack left the room, and as he
departed, said to the king,
“Stay you here for at least twenty minutes; if you move I will not be
answerable for your life.”
He closed the door, and carrying his lovely burden lightly on one
arm, made the best of his way into the garden.
As he did so, he heard the alarm given by old Bates and others
outside.
Old Bates and his companion watchers whistled very shrilly, and so
loud did they become, that Captain Jack and his companions, with
their treasure, hurried towards the river bank.
In a moment or two, the clash of swords and report of pistols were
heard in the garden.
“To the boat! to the boat! my merry men!” shouted old Bates. “We are
discovered!”
“On to ’em, men! Cut and thrust! Spare none of them!” was the
response of some one who now advanced at the head of a body of men,
with links, torches, and the like. “On to ’em, they are all rogues
and vagabonds!”
Shouts, and oaths, and cries were now heard on every side.
Captain Jack placed Ellen Harmer in the boat, and, with a furious
countenance, he rushed into the thickest of the fray.
Blows were freely exchanged on both sides, and many were wounded.
“Are all the men safe?” said Captain Jack to Bates.
“Yes; they are all near by.”
“Then let them stand in a line, and face the enemy.”
“What, fight and fall back to the boats?”
“Of course,” said Jack. “What else do you mean? Do you think that I
or any of the lads would turn their backs to the enemy? You are a
pretty fellow to be captain, truly.”
As Jack advised, all his companions faced the intruders, and
gradually fought their way back to the boat, which was now well laden
with spoil.
The fight still continued; but many of the lights became extinguished
in the combat, so that the officers and others who had come to arrest
the masked strangers began to fight among themselves.
Perceiving the confusion among them, Captain Jack ordered his
comrades to jump into the boat.
They did so.
Not one of them was killed.
But several were severely wounded.
As they pushed off from the shore, those in the garden fired a volley
after them, and raised a loud shout.
“Pursue the rascals! Get a boat and overtake them!” cried several
voices.
But no one dared to follow the bold and daring robbers.
Down the river they swiftly rowed.
And, after some time, landed at a dark, dingy, treacherous-looking
wharf.
This was a place used by the Dozen occasionally to store their
plunder.
They all got on shore safely.
But while they stood in the darkness, a boat darted past the wharf.
“That’s some of our pursuers,” said Jack, “we hadn’t much time to
spare.”
“No,” said Bates, “it was rather sharp work take it altogether.”
“Look! look!” said Jack, “here comes a second boat. By all that’s
lucky they are going to land at our wharf.”
“Boat ahoy!” shouted Bates.
“Ahoy! ahoy!” was the response. “Have you seen any craft shoot past
here?”
“What, one with a lady in it?” shouted Jack, in feigned voice.
“Ye-e-s,” was the distant answer.
“Just shot down before you. You can’t mistake it; row fast. Fire into
’em, it will soon bring the rascals to their senses.”
True to this advice the second boat shot after the first at a rapid
rate.
Ere long shots were fired in the distance.
“Hang me!” said old Bates, in high glee, “if one boat ain’t fighting
the other. Why, the fellows are all gone mad!”
“No matter,” said Captain Jack; “we have got the lady. Is she safely
housed, Bates?”
“Yes, but very pale and weak, poor creature. She couldn’t make out
who and what we were with those masks on, so I had to tell her we
were a party of friends who had leagued together for her deliverance.”
“Very good; but, of course, you didn’t tell her that we had leagued
together to get four or five sacks full of plunder, eh?”
“Not very likely.”
“But what shall we do with her now that we have got her? We don’t
want any pretty women among our band; the lads would be cutting each
other’s throats over her.”
“No fear of that; she won’t stay long in the company of the Dozen.
The king would give any price for her.”
“Then he shall have her.”
“Not so fast,” said Captain Jack, leading the way to a small
public-house, not more than a hundred yards from their store-house
on the river side, “not so fast, Bates, not so fast. She is well
provided for the night, you say, and that is sufficient. I must pay a
hasty visit to Darlington ere we make up our mind what to do.”
They had now reached the public-house, and were conversing in an
undertone together when a post-boy rode up and dismounted.
Tired, dirty, and muddy he was, and seemed ready to sink from fatigue.
“Come far to-night?” said Captain Jack.
“Yes, sir, a good many miles, and have ridden faster than ever I did
in my whole life.”
“Where from?” said Bates, shoving over his bottle to the post-boy.
“From Darlington.”
“Darlington?” said Captain Jack, pricking up his ears. “Why, that is
the very place I was just speaking about.”
“Indeed, sir,” said the post-boy; “then, methinks, before
four-and-twenty hours more, the name of that place will be in the
mouths of every one in all London.”
“Why, I do not understand you; explain yourself. Why, I thought of
journeying there to-morrow.”
“You had better not, sir, for it is a most villainous place.”
“Once upon a time,” said Bates, “it was one of the quietest little
villages in all England.”
“Sure, kind sir; but things have changed very much of late.”
“How do you mean?”
“Why, old Farmer Bertram was mysteriously murdered there, and it has
never been found out yet.”
“I know it; there is a royal proclamation about that affair,” said
Bates.
“And then the beautiful daughter of old Harmer, the miller, was
forcibly abducted by some base villain.”
“True.”
“And she has never been heard of since.”
“So I have been told.”
“And then her lover, young Andrew, was stabbed, thrown into the river
and almost killed; and now, to add to the horrors of the place and
its surrounding roads, _another_ murder has been committed in the
woods near old Sir Richard’s mansion.”
“Another murder!” said Jack, in surprise.
“Aye, sir, you may well be surprised; another murder has been
committed there, and everything has become so dangerous down there,
that I intend to throw up my situation, for I suppose next time I go
down there with the mails they’ll be for murdering me.”
“Oh, nonsense,” said Captain Jack.
“You must be mistaken, my lad,” said Bates.
“No I’m not, gentlemen; there’s no mistake about it, more’s the pity.
What with the ravages of Death-wing and his Skeleton Crew, and the
increase of murders down in these parts, the village is getting a
very bad name; nay, the worst of names in all England.”
“And who was murdered this time?”
“I don’t know for certain, but I heard it was no less a man than
Colonel Blood himself.”
“Colonel Blood! impossible,” said Jack, snapping his fingers.
“Are you sure it was the colonel, young man?” said old Bates.
“No, gentlemen, I am not quite certain; but old Harmer has seen the
body of the murdered man, and he swears it is just like the gentleman
who used to come prowling about the mill after Ellen.”
“Then what makes you think it _was_ Colonel Blood?”
“From cards and notes found in his pockets.”
Jack and Bates looked at each other in a very knowing manner.
“How did it all happen?” asked Captain Jack. “Here, sit down, my lad,
and let’s hear all about it.”
“Yes, yes, landlord, give us another bottle; you needn’t mind telling
_us_ the whole truth, you know,” said Bates, with an air of much
importance, “for we are Crown officers, and no harm can befal you.”
“Well, you see, gentlemen,” the post-boy began, “since Ellen Harmer
has been stolen away from her father’s house, Andrew, her lover,
recovered from his wounds, but is thought to be raving mad at times,
and goes raving about in all sorts of holes and corners.
“The people take pity on him, and treat him kindly; but all he thinks
of is revenge for the injuries he has received.
“Last night he was sitting in a public-house by the roadside, about
two miles this side of Darlington, when who should stop to bait his
horse but a person very much like the man who stabbed him on the
bridge the night Ellen Harmer was carried away.
“Directly he entered the parlour, poor Andrew began to rave, and the
stranger laughed at him.
“Poor Andrew began, as usual, to tell the stranger his troubles,
like he does to all who will listen to him; but still the stranger
laughed, and began to mock him.
“With eyes glistening like two burning coals, Andrew peered closely
into the stranger’s face, but made up his mind that, though very much
like, he could not be the man who had so cruelly wronged him.
“The stranger pretended to be ignorant of the country he was passing
through.
“Yet, at the same time, the landlord says he spoke of Sir Richard
Warbeck, and of Wildfire Ned’s famous doings, as if he had been
acquainted with them for years.
“He knew all about old Bertram’s murder, and whatever had happened to
Ellen Harmer, who, he said, was safe and sound in London.
“He had plenty of money, and said he was sent down from London on a
secret mission to capture one Captain Jack, a famous rogue, who was
supposed to be hiding somewhere thereabouts.
“He pulled out rolls of notes and a bag of money, and made such a
display of it that the landlord begged him to be very careful, for it
might excite the passions of those around.
‘_He_ did not care,’ he said; ‘_he_ wasn’t afraid of all Darlington
put together,’ he swore more than once.
“While he was talking, Andrew went out of the parlour, and went along
the road towards home.
‘You had better take the road through the forest,’ said the landlord
to him; ‘it is much nearer, Andrew, my boy, than by going along the
road.’
“Andrew did not make any reply, but went his way.
“In about half an hour the stranger rose, buttoned up his coat, and,
with a thick stick in his hand, went forth alone.
“‘I’m going to Darlington,’ he said.
“‘But, you said you were a stranger in these parts,’ the old publican
remarked, ‘and, if that is so, you may miss your way.’
“‘Never fear,’ said the burly stranger, laughing. ‘I heard you say
the path through the woods was much nearer than by the road, so I’ll
take the shortest cut.’
“The landlord begged of him not to go, but go he would and did.
“What happened afterwards I could only learn from his own lips, as
he lay weltering in his blood, about half an hour afterwards, for in
that time he was brought in by two rustics, with his throat fearfully
gashed.
“He could speak, however, and, in reply to questions put to him, he
said,
“‘I had not gone far along the road, and had just entered the forest
path, when I met with two poacher-looking fellows, each with a big
stick, and slovenly dressed, with big coats and slouched hats, which
almost covered their eyes.
“‘They were very civil, and I asked them a great many questions about
Darlington.
“‘They answered all my questions in a straightforward manner.
“‘Have you any strangers living in the village?’ said I.
“‘How do you mean?’ said they.
“‘Strangers, I mean, who have plenty of money, and don’t seem to do
any sort of work for a living.’
“‘Oh, yes,’ said one; ‘there is a flashy-looking chap who stays at
the inn, and spends lots of money every night; but what he does none
of us know. He says he is a crown officer, but we think he must be a
highwayman, or something of that sort, for he has got the cut of one
all over.’
“‘They described this fellow to me so well, that I made up my mind
it must be no other than Captain Jack, a famous rascal I was bent on
capturing.
“‘I told the rustics this, and they laughed, but promised to go to
the village with me, and assist in his capture.
“‘We all walked along quietly, chatting together.
“‘I gave them a good ‘pull’ at my brandy flask, and promised them an
excellent reward if Captain Jack could be captured.
“‘They said they were willing enough if I would pay them before hand.
“‘I pulled out my purse to do this, and next moment one of them gave
me a sudden blow on the head, and knocked me down.
“‘Before I could get my pistols out, the blow was repeated.
“‘I struggled hard; but in a second or two one of them pulled out a
long knife and jagged my throat, and the blood spurted out all over
me. (See cut in No. 15).
“‘In a second they robbed me of everything, and darted away into the
darkness of the forest.
“‘I remained unconscious for some time, but my shouts and cries were
heard, and soon afterwards two villagers, who were passing, raised me
up and brought me here, and here I am a dying man.’”
“This is what the stranger said, eh?” remarked Captain Jack, picking
his teeth, and looking much pleased.
“Yes, that is what he said, every word of it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh yes, for the landlord wrote it down as he spoke. I have just
delivered it to Sir Richard Warbeck, in London here, that he may
inquire into the mysterious affair at once.”
“But did not the stranger make any other remarks before he died?”
“He did.”
“What were they?”
“He said that he could swear that one of the two men was none other
than Mad Andrew in disguise.”
“Poor devil!”
“And the other one,” observed Bates, “had he any idea who he was?”
“He said he thought it must have been Captain Jack himself, in
disguise.”
“Thunder and lightning! you don’t mean that?”
“I do, though; he signed his name as best he could to the dying
deposition.”.
“Oh! it couldn’t have been Captain Jack,” said Bates; “I’ll swear to
that.”
“And so will I,” said Captain Jack; “the thing was impossible.”
“Quite so,” said Bates; “’tis a very serious charge to make against
an innocent man.”
“So it is, gentlemen; but then, you see, the character of Captain
Jack isn’t very good at the best of times, so I hear, and the dead
man’s oath will be taken before that of any one else.”
“Devilish queer affair,” said Jack,
“Yes, somebody must swing for it,” said the post-boy. “I wouldn’t
like to be in Captain Jack’s shoes for all the money in the kingdom.”
“Perhaps you don’t know the captain, my lad,” said Jack, “or you’d
have a different opinion; he is—”
“One of the best men in all London,” said Bates, tossing off his wine.
“Honest as the day is long,” said Jack.
“People are mistaken about him. As to murdering an innocent man in
the woods, and robbing him, too,” said Bates, “why, bless you, it is
out of the question.”
“From what you say about him,” said the post-boy, “one would think he
wasn’t a rascal at all.”
“Nor is he,” said Jack, fiercely; “I’ll stake my life on it.”
“And so will I,” said Bates, drinking deeply.
“Perhaps you know him, then, gentlemen?”
“No, not exactly; but I’ve seen him, and actually been in his company
once or twice,” said Jack.
“So have I,” chimed in Bates, “he can sing a capital song.”
“And dance a jig.”
“And handle a sword.”
“Aye! that he can, and fight for an hour with the best gentleman in
all England,” said Bates, in conclusion.
“And was the dying man’s deposition the only reason that made you
hurry up to town at such a terrible pace?”
“Not exactly, gentlemen; something more.”
“What then?”
“When the dead man’s things were searched, we found papers, cards,
and documents in his pockets, all bearing the name of Colonel Blood,
and the supposition was, that _he_ was that individual.”
“And was it?”
“We haven’t found out yet, for when I rode up to his mansion, I found
the place in great confusion, and the colonel was out of town, so it
was supposed.”
“I heard he had gone to Darlington,” said Bates.
“If he did go there, then he _must_ have been killed,” said Jack.
“I knew not that, gentlemen, but heard that his house had been robbed
of all its plate, jewels, and valuables. Many of the household were
killed or wounded in fighting with the robbers, and all was in a
dreadful uproar.”
“Astonishing,” said Jack. “Here, landlord, more wine.”
“And have they any notion who committed this audacious robbery, my
boy?”
“I heard the butler say he had picked up a sword in the grounds, with
the name of ‘Tom Bates’ upon it.’
“T-h-e devil!” said Jack, who now, for the first time, perceived that
Tom had lost his sword in the hurry and scuffle of getting away in
the boat.
Old Bates, himself, felt thunderstruck when he heard this, for, until
that moment, he had thought nothing about the sword he had lost.
He poured out a goblet of wine, drank it off at a draught to drown
his rising anger.
“What else did they discover?” Jack asked.
“There is a tall black slave at the mansion, who, by signs and
writing, made known to all assembled that there were several crown
officers among the robbers.”
“Worse and worse,” said Bates.
For a few moments no one spoke.
The post-boy left the house, and in a short time the house closed for
the night.
Jack and Bates being good customers, were not turned out when the
doors were shut, but remained chatting together.
“This is a bad job,” said Bates, “a very bad job for _you_, Jack.”
“And so it is for you.”
“You will be surely ‘scragged’ for this murder.”
“And so will you for this robbery, for they will be sure to trace the
sword to you.”
“Hang the luck,” said old Bates. “I wish we had never seen the place.”
“What must be done?”
“I haven’t the least idea.”
“They won’t be long before they are after us you may be sure.”
“I don’t care what they do, now that Colonel Blood is killed,” said
Jack; “he was a deceitful, tricky, devil.”
While they thus sat drinking, loud knocks were heard at the door
outside.
“Who’s there?” asked the landlord.
“Don’t open for them,” said Jack, “it’s only some thirsty roysterer
returning home.”
“House, ho!”
“Who are you?”
“What do you want?”
“Go home, I tell you; the house is closed.”
“House, ho! within there; open, in the name of the king.”
“The what?” said Jack, in alarm.
“In the name of the king,” whispered Bates.
“What can it be?” asked Jack; “surely not a guard of soldiers,
landlord.”
“Yes it is, sir; I have just peeped out of the window. There is a
file of soldiers outside, with an officer at their head.”
“House, ho! within there! Open, in the name of the king, landlord, or
I’ll burst in the door.”
“What do you want?”
“Open, I say.”
“What are your orders?”
“To search the house.”
“Your name, officer?”
“It matters not to you; open.”
“I have no one here, I assure you.”
“You lie, landlord; you had, if you have not now. Open, I say, once
more.”
“Your warrant, sir.”
“My name is sufficient, old dolt.”
“And what is it, I beg you?”
“_Colonel Blood!_”
Directly Jack and Bates heard this ominous name, they dashed out of
the room just as the impatient soldiers were bursting open the heavy,
oaken door.
“Fly,” said Jack, dashing out into the back yard, “fly for your life,
Bates, ’tis the colonel himself; fly, fly!”