It is necessary at this juncture to return to Hugh, who, having, as we
have seen, called to the rioters to disperse from about the Warren, and
meet again as usual, glided back into the darkness from which he had
emerged, and reappeared no more that night.
He paused in the copse which sheltered him from the observation of his
mad companions, and waited to ascertain whether they drew off at his
bidding, or still lingered and called to him to join them. Some few, he
saw, were indisposed to go away without him, and made towards the spot
where he stood concealed as though they were about to follow in his
footsteps, and urge him to come back; but these men, being in their turn
called to by their friends, and in truth not greatly caring to venture
into the dark parts of the grounds, where they might be easily surprised
and taken, if any of the neighbours or retainers of the family were
watching them from among the trees, soon abandoned the idea, and hastily
assembling such men as they found of their mind at the moment, straggled
off.
When he was satisfied that the great mass of the insurgents were
imitating this example, and that the ground was rapidly clearing, he
plunged into the thickest portion of the little wood; and, crashing the
branches as he went, made straight towards a distant light: guided by
that, and by the sullen glow of the fire behind him.
As he drew nearer and nearer to the twinkling beacon towards which he
bent his course, the red glare of a few torches began to reveal itself,
and the voices of men speaking together in a subdued tone broke the
silence which, save for a distant shouting now and then, already
prevailed. At length he cleared the wood, and, springing across a ditch,
stood in a dark lane, where a small body of ill-looking vagabonds, whom
he had left there some twenty minutes before, waited his coming with
impatience.
They were gathered round an old post-chaise or chariot, driven by one of
themselves, who sat postilion-wise upon the near horse. The blinds were
drawn up, and Mr Tappertit and Dennis kept guard at the two windows. The
former assumed the command of the party, for he challenged Hugh as he
advanced towards them; and when he did so, those who were resting on the
ground about the carriage rose to their feet and clustered round him.
‘Well!’ said Simon, in a low voice; ‘is all right?’
‘Right enough,’ replied Hugh, in the same tone. ‘They’re dispersing
now--had begun before I came away.’
‘And is the coast clear?’
‘Clear enough before our men, I take it,’ said Hugh. ‘There are not many
who, knowing of their work over yonder, will want to meddle with ‘em
to-night.--Who’s got some drink here?’
Everybody had some plunder from the cellar; half-a-dozen flasks and
bottles were offered directly. He selected the largest, and putting it
to his mouth, sent the wine gurgling down his throat. Having emptied
it, he threw it down, and stretched out his hand for another, which he
emptied likewise, at a draught. Another was given him, and this he half
emptied too. Reserving what remained to finish with, he asked:
‘Have you got anything to eat, any of you? I’m as ravenous as a hungry
wolf. Which of you was in the larder--come?’
‘I was, brother,’ said Dennis, pulling off his hat, and fumbling in
the crown. ‘There’s a matter of cold venison pasty somewhere or another
here, if that’ll do.’
‘Do!’ cried Hugh, seating himself on the pathway. ‘Bring it out! Quick!
Show a light here, and gather round! Let me sup in state, my lads! Ha ha
ha!’
Entering into his boisterous humour, for they all had drunk deeply, and
were as wild as he, they crowded about him, while two of their number
who had torches, held them up, one on either side of him, that his
banquet might not be despatched in the dark. Mr Dennis, having by this
time succeeded in extricating from his hat a great mass of pasty, which
had been wedged in so tightly that it was not easily got out, put it
before him; and Hugh, having borrowed a notched and jagged knife from
one of the company, fell to work upon it vigorously.
‘I should recommend you to swallow a little fire every day, about an
hour afore dinner, brother,’ said Dennis, after a pause. ‘It seems to
agree with you, and to stimulate your appetite.’
Hugh looked at him, and at the blackened faces by which he was
surrounded, and, stopping for a moment to flourish his knife above his
head, answered with a roar of laughter.
‘Keep order, there, will you?’ said Simon Tappertit.
‘Why, isn’t a man allowed to regale himself, noble captain,’ retorted
his lieutenant, parting the men who stood between them, with his knife,
that he might see him,--‘to regale himself a little bit after such work
as mine? What a hard captain! What a strict captain! What a tyrannical
captain! Ha ha ha!’
‘I wish one of you fellers would hold a bottle to his mouth to keep him
quiet,’ said Simon, ‘unless you want the military to be down upon us.’
‘And what if they are down upon us!’ retorted Hugh. ‘Who cares? Who’s
afraid? Let ‘em come, I say, let ‘em come. The more, the merrier. Give
me bold Barnaby at my side, and we two will settle the military, without
troubling any of you. Barnaby’s the man for the military. Barnaby’s
health!’
But as the majority of those present were by no means anxious for a
second engagement that night, being already weary and exhausted, they
sided with Mr Tappertit, and pressed him to make haste with his supper,
for they had already delayed too long. Knowing, even in the height of
his frenzy, that they incurred great danger by lingering so near the
scene of the late outrages, Hugh made an end of his meal without more
remonstrance, and rising, stepped up to Mr Tappertit, and smote him on
the back.
‘Now then,’ he cried, ‘I’m ready. There are brave birds inside this
cage, eh? Delicate birds,--tender, loving, little doves. I caged ‘em--I
caged ‘em--one more peep!’
He thrust the little man aside as he spoke, and mounting on the steps,
which were half let down, pulled down the blind by force, and stared
into the chaise like an ogre into his larder.
‘Ha ha ha! and did you scratch, and pinch, and struggle, pretty
mistress?’ he cried, as he grasped a little hand that sought in vain to
free itself from his grip: ‘you, so bright-eyed, and cherry-lipped, and
daintily made? But I love you better for it, mistress. Ay, I do. You
should stab me and welcome, so that it pleased you, and you had to
cure me afterwards. I love to see you proud and scornful. It makes you
handsomer than ever; and who so handsome as you at any time, my pretty
one!’
‘Come!’ said Mr Tappertit, who had waited during this speech with
considerable impatience. ‘There’s enough of that. Come down.’
The little hand seconded this admonition by thrusting Hugh’s great head
away with all its force, and drawing up the blind, amidst his noisy
laughter, and vows that he must have another look, for the last glimpse
of that sweet face had provoked him past all bearing. However, as the
suppressed impatience of the party now broke out into open murmurs,
he abandoned this design, and taking his seat upon the bar, contented
himself with tapping at the front windows of the carriage, and trying to
steal a glance inside; Mr Tappertit, mounting the steps and hanging on
by the door, issued his directions to the driver with a commanding
voice and attitude; the rest got up behind, or ran by the side of the
carriage, as they could; some, in imitation of Hugh, endeavoured to
see the face he had praised so highly, and were reminded of their
impertinence by hints from the cudgel of Mr Tappertit. Thus they pursued
their journey by circuitous and winding roads; preserving, except when
they halted to take breath, or to quarrel about the best way of reaching
London, pretty good order and tolerable silence.
In the mean time, Dolly--beautiful, bewitching, captivating little
Dolly--her hair dishevelled, her dress torn, her dark eyelashes wet with
tears, her bosom heaving--her face, now pale with fear, now crimsoned
with indignation--her whole self a hundred times more beautiful in
this heightened aspect than ever she had been before--vainly strove to
comfort Emma Haredale, and to impart to her the consolation of which she
stood in so much need herself. The soldiers were sure to come; they must
be rescued; it would be impossible to convey them through the streets
of London when they set the threats of their guards at defiance, and
shrieked to the passengers for help. If they did this when they
came into the more frequented ways, she was certain--she was quite
certain--they must be released. So poor Dolly said, and so poor Dolly
tried to think; but the invariable conclusion of all such arguments was,
that Dolly burst into tears; cried, as she wrung her hands, what would
they do or think, or who would comfort them, at home, at the Golden Key;
and sobbed most piteously.
Miss Haredale, whose feelings were usually of a quieter kind than
Dolly’s, and not so much upon the surface, was dreadfully alarmed, and
indeed had only just recovered from a swoon. She was very pale, and the
hand which Dolly held was quite cold; but she bade her, nevertheless,
remember that, under Providence, much must depend upon their own
discretion; that if they remained quiet and lulled the vigilance of the
ruffians into whose hands they had fallen, the chances of their being
able to procure assistance when they reached the town, were very much
increased; that unless society were quite unhinged, a hot pursuit must
be immediately commenced; and that her uncle, she might be sure, would
never rest until he had found them out and rescued them. But as she said
these latter words, the idea that he had fallen in a general massacre of
the Catholics that night--no very wild or improbable supposition after
what they had seen and undergone--struck her dumb; and, lost in the
horrors they had witnessed, and those they might be yet reserved for,
she sat incapable of thought, or speech, or outward show of grief: as
rigid, and almost as white and cold, as marble.
Oh, how many, many times, in that long ride, did Dolly think of her old
lover,--poor, fond, slighted Joe! How many, many times, did she recall
that night when she ran into his arms from the very man now projecting
his hateful gaze into the darkness where she sat, and leering through
the glass in monstrous admiration! And when she thought of Joe, and what
a brave fellow he was, and how he would have rode boldly up, and
dashed in among these villains now, yes, though they were double the
number--and here she clenched her little hand, and pressed her foot upon
the ground--the pride she felt for a moment in having won his heart,
faded in a burst of tears, and she sobbed more bitterly than ever.
As the night wore on, and they proceeded by ways which were quite
unknown to them--for they could recognise none of the objects of which
they sometimes caught a hurried glimpse--their fears increased; nor were
they without good foundation; it was not difficult for two beautiful
young women to find, in their being borne they knew not whither by a
band of daring villains who eyed them as some among these fellows did,
reasons for the worst alarm. When they at last entered London, by a
suburb with which they were wholly unacquainted, it was past midnight,
and the streets were dark and empty. Nor was this the worst, for the
carriage stopping in a lonely spot, Hugh suddenly opened the door,
jumped in, and took his seat between them.
It was in vain they cried for help. He put his arm about the neck of
each, and swore to stifle them with kisses if they were not as silent as
the grave.
‘I come here to keep you quiet,’ he said, ‘and that’s the means I shall
take. So don’t be quiet, pretty mistresses--make a noise--do--and I
shall like it all the better.’
They were proceeding at a rapid pace, and apparently with fewer
attendants than before, though it was so dark (the torches being
extinguished) that this was mere conjecture. They shrunk from his touch,
each into the farthest corner of the carriage; but shrink as Dolly
would, his arm encircled her waist, and held her fast. She neither cried
nor spoke, for terror and disgust deprived her of the power; but she
plucked at his hand as though she would die in the effort to disengage
herself; and crouching on the ground, with her head averted and held
down, repelled him with a strength she wondered at as much as he. The
carriage stopped again.
‘Lift this one out,’ said Hugh to the man who opened the door, as
he took Miss Haredale’s hand, and felt how heavily it fell. ‘She’s
fainted.’
‘So much the better,’ growled Dennis--it was that amiable gentleman.
‘She’s quiet. I always like ‘em to faint, unless they’re very tender and
composed.’
‘Can you take her by yourself?’ asked Hugh.
‘I don’t know till I try. I ought to be able to; I’ve lifted up a good
many in my time,’ said the hangman. ‘Up then! She’s no small weight,
brother; none of these here fine gals are. Up again! Now we have her.’
Having by this time hoisted the young lady into his arms, he staggered
off with his burden.
‘Look ye, pretty bird,’ said Hugh, drawing Dolly towards him. ‘Remember
what I told you--a kiss for every cry. Scream, if you love me, darling.
Scream once, mistress. Pretty mistress, only once, if you love me.’
Thrusting his face away with all her force, and holding down her head,
Dolly submitted to be carried out of the chaise, and borne after Miss
Haredale into a miserable cottage, where Hugh, after hugging her to his
breast, set her gently down upon the floor.
Poor Dolly! Do what she would, she only looked the better for it, and
tempted them the more. When her eyes flashed angrily, and her ripe lips
slightly parted, to give her rapid breathing vent, who could resist it?
When she wept and sobbed as though her heart would break, and bemoaned
her miseries in the sweetest voice that ever fell upon a listener’s ear,
who could be insensible to the little winning pettishness which now
and then displayed itself, even in the sincerity and earnestness of her
grief? When, forgetful for a moment of herself, as she was now, she fell
on her knees beside her friend, and bent over her, and laid her cheek
to hers, and put her arms about her, what mortal eyes could have avoided
wandering to the delicate bodice, the streaming hair, the neglected
dress, the perfect abandonment and unconsciousness of the blooming
little beauty? Who could look on and see her lavish caresses and
endearments, and not desire to be in Emma Haredale’s place; to be either
her or Dolly; either the hugging or the hugged? Not Hugh. Not Dennis.
‘I tell you what it is, young women,’ said Mr Dennis, ‘I an’t much of a
lady’s man myself, nor am I a party in the present business further than
lending a willing hand to my friends: but if I see much more of this
here sort of thing, I shall become a principal instead of a accessory. I
tell you candid.’
‘Why have you brought us here?’ said Emma. ‘Are we to be murdered?’
‘Murdered!’ cried Dennis, sitting down upon a stool, and regarding her
with great favour. ‘Why, my dear, who’d murder sich chickabiddies as
you? If you was to ask me, now, whether you was brought here to be
married, there might be something in it.’
And here he exchanged a grin with Hugh, who removed his eyes from Dolly
for the purpose.
‘No, no,’ said Dennis, ‘there’ll be no murdering, my pets. Nothing of
that sort. Quite the contrairy.’
‘You are an older man than your companion, sir,’ said Emma, trembling.
‘Have you no pity for us? Do you not consider that we are women?’
‘I do indeed, my dear,’ retorted Dennis. ‘It would be very hard not to,
with two such specimens afore my eyes. Ha ha! Oh yes, I consider that.
We all consider that, miss.’
He shook his head waggishly, leered at Hugh again, and laughed very
much, as if he had said a noble thing, and rather thought he was coming
out.
‘There’ll be no murdering, my dear. Not a bit on it. I tell you what
though, brother,’ said Dennis, cocking his hat for the convenience
of scratching his head, and looking gravely at Hugh, ‘it’s worthy of
notice, as a proof of the amazing equalness and dignity of our law, that
it don’t make no distinction between men and women. I’ve heerd the judge
say, sometimes, to a highwayman or housebreaker as had tied the ladies
neck and heels--you’ll excuse me making mention of it, my darlings--and
put ‘em in a cellar, that he showed no consideration to women. Now, I
say that there judge didn’t know his business, brother; and that if
I had been that there highwayman or housebreaker, I should have made
answer: “What are you a talking of, my lord? I showed the women as much
consideration as the law does, and what more would you have me do?” If
you was to count up in the newspapers the number of females as have
been worked off in this here city alone, in the last ten year,’ said Mr
Dennis thoughtfully, ‘you’d be surprised at the total--quite amazed, you
would. There’s a dignified and equal thing; a beautiful thing! But we’ve
no security for its lasting. Now that they’ve begun to favour these here
Papists, I shouldn’t wonder if they went and altered even THAT, one of
these days. Upon my soul, I shouldn’t.’
The subject, perhaps from being of too exclusive and professional a
nature, failed to interest Hugh as much as his friend had anticipated.
But he had no time to pursue it, for at this crisis Mr Tappertit entered
precipitately; at sight of whom Dolly uttered a scream of joy, and
fairly threw herself into his arms.
‘I knew it, I was sure of it!’ cried Dolly. ‘My dear father’s at the
door. Thank God, thank God! Bless you, Sim. Heaven bless you for this!’
Simon Tappertit, who had at first implicitly believed that the
locksmith’s daughter, unable any longer to suppress her secret passion
for himself, was about to give it full vent in its intensity, and to
declare that she was his for ever, looked extremely foolish when she
said these words;--the more so, as they were received by Hugh and Dennis
with a loud laugh, which made her draw back, and regard him with a fixed
and earnest look.
‘Miss Haredale,’ said Sim, after a very awkward silence, ‘I hope
you’re as comfortable as circumstances will permit of. Dolly Varden,
my darling--my own, my lovely one--I hope YOU’RE pretty comfortable
likewise.’
Poor little Dolly! She saw how it was; hid her face in her hands; and
sobbed more bitterly than ever.
‘You meet in me, Miss V.,’ said Simon, laying his hand upon his breast,
‘not a ‘prentice, not a workman, not a slave, not the wictim of your
father’s tyrannical behaviour, but the leader of a great people, the
captain of a noble band, in which these gentlemen are, as I may say,
corporals and serjeants. You behold in me, not a private individual, but
a public character; not a mender of locks, but a healer of the wounds of
his unhappy country. Dolly V., sweet Dolly V., for how many years have
I looked forward to this present meeting! For how many years has it been
my intention to exalt and ennoble you! I redeem it. Behold in me, your
husband. Yes, beautiful Dolly--charmer--enslaver--S. Tappertit is all
your own!’
As he said these words he advanced towards her. Dolly retreated till she
could go no farther, and then sank down upon the floor. Thinking it very
possible that this might be maiden modesty, Simon essayed to raise her;
on which Dolly, goaded to desperation, wound her hands in his hair, and
crying out amidst her tears that he was a dreadful little wretch, and
always had been, shook, and pulled, and beat him, until he was fain to
call for help, most lustily. Hugh had never admired her half so much as
at that moment.
‘She’s in an excited state to-night,’ said Simon, as he smoothed his
rumpled feathers, ‘and don’t know when she’s well off. Let her be by
herself till to-morrow, and that’ll bring her down a little. Carry her
into the next house!’
Hugh had her in his arms directly. It might be that Mr Tappertit’s heart
was really softened by her distress, or it might be that he felt it in
some degree indecorous that his intended bride should be struggling in
the grasp of another man. He commanded him, on second thoughts, to put
her down again, and looked moodily on as she flew to Miss Haredale’s
side, and clinging to her dress, hid her flushed face in its folds.
‘They shall remain here together till to-morrow,’ said Simon, who had
now quite recovered his dignity--‘till to-morrow. Come away!’
‘Ay!’ cried Hugh. ‘Come away, captain. Ha ha ha!’
‘What are you laughing at?’ demanded Simon sternly.
‘Nothing, captain, nothing,’ Hugh rejoined; and as he spoke, and clapped
his hand upon the shoulder of the little man, he laughed again, for some
unknown reason, with tenfold violence.
Mr Tappertit surveyed him from head to foot with lofty scorn (this only
made him laugh the more), and turning to the prisoners, said:
‘You’ll take notice, ladies, that this place is well watched on every
side, and that the least noise is certain to be attended with unpleasant
consequences. You’ll hear--both of you--more of our intentions
to-morrow. In the mean time, don’t show yourselves at the window, or
appeal to any of the people you may see pass it; for if you do, it’ll
be known directly that you come from a Catholic house, and all the
exertions our men can make, may not be able to save your lives.’
With this last caution, which was true enough, he turned to the door,
followed by Hugh and Dennis. They paused for a moment, going out, to
look at them clasped in each other’s arms, and then left the cottage;
fastening the door, and setting a good watch upon it, and indeed all
round the house.
‘I say,’ growled Dennis, as they walked away in company, ‘that’s a
dainty pair. Muster Gashford’s one is as handsome as the other, eh?’
‘Hush!’ said Hugh, hastily. ‘Don’t you mention names. It’s a bad habit.’
‘I wouldn’t like to be HIM, then (as you don’t like names), when he
breaks it out to her; that’s all,’ said Dennis. ‘She’s one of them fine,
black-eyed, proud gals, as I wouldn’t trust at such times with a knife
too near ‘em. I’ve seen some of that sort, afore now. I recollect one
that was worked off, many year ago--and there was a gentleman in that
case too--that says to me, with her lip a trembling, but her hand as
steady as ever I see one: “Dennis, I’m near my end, but if I had a
dagger in these fingers, and he was within my reach, I’d strike him dead
afore me;”--ah, she did--and she’d have done it too!’
Strike who dead?’ demanded Hugh.
‘How should I know, brother?’ answered Dennis. ‘SHE never said; not
she.’
Hugh looked, for a moment, as though he would have made some further
inquiry into this incoherent recollection; but Simon Tappertit, who had
been meditating deeply, gave his thoughts a new direction.
‘Hugh!’ said Sim. ‘You have done well to-day. You shall be rewarded.
So have you, Dennis.--There’s no young woman YOU want to carry off, is
there?’
‘N--no,’ returned that gentleman, stroking his grizzly beard, which was
some two inches long. ‘None in partickler, I think.’
‘Very good,’ said Sim; ‘then we’ll find some other way of making it up
to you. As to you, old boy’--he turned to Hugh--‘you shall have Miggs
(her that I promised you, you know) within three days. Mind. I pass my
word for it.’
Hugh thanked him heartily; and as he did so, his laughing fit returned
with such violence that he was obliged to hold his side with one hand,
and to lean with the other on the shoulder of his small captain, without
whose support he would certainly have rolled upon the ground.