"Guiltless am I, but bear the penalty!"
* * * * *
"Wild was the place, but wilder his despair:
Low shaggy rocks that o'er deep caverns scowl
Echo his groans: the tigress in her lair
Starts at the sound, and answers with a growl."
_Zophiel._
"Hurl'd
From the topmost height of his ambition,
It became his ambition to mate him
With the lowest."
The night was fast approaching as the desolate outcast entered the
forest. He hailed the gathering darkness with joy, for it was in unison
with the gloom of his soul. The howl of the wildest storm would have
been music to his ears! He could have mocked with shouts of gladness the
rattling thunder, and played with the shafts of the glittering
lightning.
He rode deep into the wood--whither he cared not so that he left behind
him all that he had lost. For half an hour he thought of nothing but
urging his horse forward at the top of his speed. He banished thought,
reflection, sensation. He dared not think. He found relief only in
animal action and rapid motion, and rode furiously onward without
knowing or regarding the course taken by his horse, who instinctively
followed the dark windings of the forest paths.
At length the moon rose and shone down upon him through the tree tops.
Its light seemed to restore him to himself. He checked his rapid course,
and gazed at her pale orb; as he looked, reflection returned, and he
began to realise his situation, and to taste the full bitterness of the
cup of which he had drunken. The past, the present, the future, flashed
with all their naked colours upon his mind. The picture his imagination
painted with the hues they lent was too appalling to contemplate; and,
as if the fabled influence of the planet, the soft light of which had
restored him to reflection, had acted upon his fevered brain, he was
suddenly converted into a maniac. He rose upright in his stirrups, and
shouted, shrieked, till the forests rang again. He shook his clinched
fists at the placid moon, that seemed smilingly to mock his woes. He
spurred on his horse till the animal groaned with pain, and plunged
madly forward with his phrensied rider! He would then rein him up, and,
gnashing his teeth, lift his hands above his head, and curse God and
man. Then he would again shout with phrensy, and gore his steed till he
became furious and snorted with rage, and ride once more forward with
the speed of the wind.
These passions were too violent to last. His wild excitement gradually
subsided; his horse was suffered to move at his own pace; and, with his
arms folded moodily, and his chin drooping on his breast, he gave
himself up to the stern and gloomy thoughts of his situation, and, for a
time, buried in the depths of his own meditations, seemed to be wholly
unconscious of external objects. He rode on in this way for more than an
hour, when he was aroused by the sudden stopping of his horse. He looked
up and saw before him a dilapidated gate, which barred his farther
progress. Beyond, visible by the full flood of moonlight, was a lonely
square tower, flanked by a single wing, topped with a battlement. He
listened, and thought he heard the dashing of waves upon the beach. The
whole scene was new to him! Where could his faithful steed have borne
him? From the moment he had left Castle More behind all had seemed like
a blank to him. How far, and whither, could he have ridden? He looked up
at the moon. It had not risen when he left Castle More, yet it now rode
high in the heavens! By her position it was near midnight.
Indifferent where he wandered, he leaped the sunken gate, and rode up to
the tower. It was not in ruins, yet wore an aspect of desolation and
neglect. Its loneliness harmonized with his own situation, and was
grateful to him. He rode round the angle of a buttress, when the sea
suddenly opened before him, and he saw that the tower stood on a rock
thirty or forty feet above it, and that where it overhung the water
projected a small balcony. A sudden thought flashed upon his mind as he
discovered this.
"It must be!" he exclaimed, with animation; "'tis the tower of Hurtel of
the Red-Hand! This moat, yonder ruined drawbridge, its situation, and,
above all, that balcony, one and all, identify it with Elpsy's
description. By the bones of my red-handed sire! thou knewest what thou
wert about to bring me hither, sagacious animal!" he added,
sarcastically, patting the noble horse on the neck; "'tis fitting I
should take possession of my father's towers with the inheritance of his
name. Ha, ha! I am not quite a vagabond!" and he laughed scornfully.
He started with surprise, for the laugh seemed to be echoed from the
tower.
"'Twas a human voice, or else a spirit mocking! If demons do rejoice
over the miseries of mankind, they may well hold a jubilee in honour of
mine. Laugh on, imps! I am a fit subject for your merriment!" and he
laughed with nervous derision.
Again he started, for he was answered by a laugh so wild that it chilled
his blood. The sound seemed to proceed from an upper room in the wing of
the building.
"Fiend or flesh, it shall rue this merriment!" he cried, leaping to the
ground and hastening to the door of the tower.
It was ajar; he dashed it open with his heel, and found himself in a
long, low hall, at the extremity of which was the window that opened on
the balcony, through which he caught a glimpse of the glimmering sea. By
the light it afforded he crossed the hall, and, standing on the balcony,
glanced an instant over the vast moonlit expanse of water, and then,
with a strange interest, the whole of Elpsy's story rushing vividly to
his mind, he shudderingly cast his eyes down the rock which stood in
deep shadow. Even by the indistinct light he could discern the sharp
projection on which the garments of the infant had caught in its
descent, and not four feet distant from him, on a level with the window,
was the rock on which the fisher's daughter--_his mother_--was in the
act of springing, when hurled into the sea by--_his father_. On that
very balcony had he stood to do the deed! Strange, wonderful,
overpowering were his sensations. He held his breath with the intensity
of his thoughts.
"Here," said he, mentally, placing his hand on the balustrade, "has lain
my unknown mother's hand; it warmed this senseless iron, which can give
me back no warmth in return. Here pressed the foot of my father! Here
they parted! How! ah, _how_? Where are they now? Where is he? does he
live? Where is she? A fearful thought forces itself upon me that I dare
not dwell upon! This strange tale of the sorceress; her wonderful and
minute knowledge, that could be only known to the actor; her emotion at
different portions of the story; a hundred things, light as air, that
have insinuated themselves into my mind, have made me think she might
be--fiends! it will out!--my mother! But, then, she told me that she was
dead. Well, be it so, yet I can fall no lower! Were my mother living,
could her lot be better than this fearful weird woman's? Ha, ha, ha! I
have no pride now!" he added, with a hollow laugh of mingled despair and
phrensy.
"Ha, ha, ha!" he heard repeated, in tones so unearthly that his heart
ceased to beat, and a thrill like ice shot through his veins.
The next moment he was at the top of a flight of steps leading from one
side of the hall to an upper room, from which the voice seemed to
proceed. A stream of moonlight, falling through a window, showed him a
door on the landing-place, which he threw open. He found himself in a
small room, lighted by a lattice of crimson-stained glass looking south
towards the sea: into it the moon, in its western circle, had just began
to shine, its red-died beams tinting the twilight of the chamber with
the hue of blood. Seated high in the recess of the window, he discovered
the dark figure of a female; her knees drawn up to her chin, and her
hands clasped together around them. As he opened the door she leaped
down like a cat and sprang towards him. The sanguinary light of the room
had affected his imagination, not untinged with the superstitious fears
of his time; but this sudden apparition, though he had prepared himself
to see something either human or supernatural, caused him to start back
with an exclamation of surprise.
"Come in, Robert of Lester! I welcome you to the room which first
welcomed you to the light," said she, in a voice which he at once
recognised as that of the sorceress.
The singular information her words conveyed suspended for the moment all
other emotions in his mind save curiosity at finding himself so
unexpectedly in the chamber where he was born. He gazed about him for a
few moments under the influence of the strange thoughts and emotions the
circumstance called up, and then turning towards her, said,
"Why art thou here, wicked woman? Didst thou anticipate my presence, and
art thou come to mock the misery thou hast wrought?"
"I fled lest thou shouldst do a deed of blood thy hand might rue. I fled
not for myself, but for thee."
"You need not fear me now. There exists no longer any motive for
secrecy," he said, gloomily.
"How mean you?" she eagerly asked.
"Ere to-morrow's sun, 'twill be in every boor's mouth, from Castle Cor
to Kinsale, that I am no longer Lord of Lester!"
"Speak--explain!" she said, hoarsely, grasping his arm with both hands,
and breathing quick and hard.
"I have told the Lady Lester that he whom she thought her son was not
her son," he firmly replied.
"Ha! _thou_--thou hast told thy shame? Speak, Robert More--have you
breathed to mortal ear what I have told thee of thy birth?" she
demanded, with fearful energy of speech and manner.
"I have. 'Tis known to every servitor from hall to stable!"
"Didst give thy name?"
"Robert, son of Hurtel of the Red-Hand."
"And this did thine own lips, of thine own free will?"
"Never man spoke freer!"
"Then hell be thy portion! Accursed be ye, Robert Hurtel! Had I thought
thou wouldst have become the trumpeter of thy shame--had I believed thou
wouldst have breathed to mortal ear thine infamy, I would have seared my
tongue with hot iron ere I would have told thee the secret of thy birth.
The infernal demon has prompted thee to do this! Didst thou not seek to
slay me, that thou shouldst be the sole keeper of the foul secret?"
"I did, at the moment, but thought better of it!"
"Base! lowborn! miserable that thou art! Why was not my tongue withered
ere I told thee this?"
"Would to God it had been, woman. What was thy motive in ever letting it
go from thy own breast?"
"Love of mischief--hatred of mankind; and to lower thy pride, knowing
from what dunghill thou wert sprung. But I did not think thou wouldst
use my secret thus; and wreck the gifts that--that thy mother's
stratagem had purchased, and after secured to thee by years of absence,
privation, and misery."
"How?"
"Did she not, for thy sake, keep the secret of thy birth--coming not
even near thee--when, on the ninth day, Hurtel of the Red-Hand being
gone over the sea, she might safely have claimed thee of Lady Lester,
and given her back her own!" she said, vehemently.
"Rather for her own sake--from maternal pride at having her son sit
among nobles," was the stern reply. "And if these were her motives, as I
doubt not they were, at what price did she purchase this honour for her
child? The price of the deepest guilt, by keeping the true heir from his
birthright. I did not view it in this light before. By the cross! I am a
well-born! a guilty mother, too! 'Tis well you told me she was no more;
I should care little to meet her in my present mood."
As he spoke, the woman sunk her head upon her bosom, and deep groans
escaped her, whether of defeated hopes, of sorrow, of shame, or of
remorse, he knew not. Suddenly he laid his hand upon her arm, and looked
impressively in her face, and said,
"Woman! who is my mother?"
"Thou wilt never know!"
"Art _thou_?"
"Ha, ha, ha! _I?_ Do I look like the gentle maiden that won the love of
Hurtel of the Red-Hand? Are these matted locks tresses of gold? Is this
complexion like the blended ivory and rose? Is my voice soft and full of
love? Are my eyes like the gazelle's, and gentle as the dove's in their
expression? Is this hideous form such as would lure youth to embrace it?
Wilt thou acknowledge thyself the son of 'the witch'--'the
sorceress'--'the beldame Elpsy' (such were thy gentle terms)--the
beleagued with demons--the familiar of the evil one--the--"
"No, no! Avaunt!" he shouted, with a furious gesture; "thank God! I am
not sunk so low as that!"
"Ha, ha! Thy pride is fallen far indeed when it can enter thy thoughts,
and even go from thy lips, that Elpsy of the Tower gave thee birth. Oh,
ho! I am well avenged in this for thy mad folly in throwing away thy
earldom. Oh, how I do hate thee for that act! for it thou shalt never
know peace in body or soul!"
"I defy thee, woman, and all thy arts!"
"Yet the tales of my deeds have made thy human soul to shrink! Beware
how thou speakest lightly of what thou knowest naught, and which is hid
from mortal ken!" she added, with mysterious and solemn earnestness.
"Whither turn thy footsteps now, Lord of Lester?" she asked, with
chilling irony. "Doubtless thou hast come to take possession of thy fair
lands here. They are not so broad, indeed, as the domains of Castle
More, and thy castle needs some furnishing and repair. Doubtless thou
wouldst like to fit it up ere thou bringest home to be its mistress the
fair Kate of Bellamont!"
"Breathe that name again, woman, and I will take thy life!"
"Thou art now thy very father's image!" she said, with derision. "Even
in this moonlight I can see that devilish shape of the eyes that his
were wont to assume when he meditated murder! Ho! I dare to say thou
wilt be like him in more than the glance of the eye. Dost mean to follow
in his footsteps, and head a band of lawless insurgents; or wilt thou,
as 'tis said his brother did--"
"His brother?"
"Thou didst not know before thou hadst once an uncle? So: thou shalt no
longer be kept in ignorance. He was a bold, bad man, and therein true to
his race; was called Black Hurtel, and roved the Danish seas a daring
bucanier. 'Twas said he could float his ship in the blood of the men he
had slain! He was killed on the French coast in a fierce fight; but his
vessel was captured, and his dead body, with his living crew (for the
captors would not leave one alive to blacken the face of the earth),
were sunk in the deep sea. Perhaps, like him, thou wilt take to the
wave, and carve thy fortune in blood! Blood is sweet, and there is music
to the ear in its gurgle where it is shed with a free hand! Look you,"
she said, pointing through the window; "the sea is spread wide before
you, and seems to invite thee with its glancing waves. It knows not of
thy disgrace, nor has it voices to whisper thy infamy; while every bird,
tree, and stone will nod and gossip to one another as thou passest by--
"'There goes he who _was_ the Lord of Lester!'"
"Woman, you madden me!"
"Perhaps," she continued, in the same cutting tone, while he paced the
little chamber with a phrensied step, "thou wilt rather come and share
my tower i'the ruin, if the new Lord of Lester will give thee leave;
doubtless he will honour thee by asking thee to hold his stirrup on
occasion. But, if thou wilt rather habit in this tower, I will be thy
seneschal. I love its old gray walls! many is the moonlight night I've
sat in the window and looked on the sea, as it danced, and glimmered,
and seemed to beck and nod, and laugh when I laughed. Ha, ha! I have had
brave times here, gossipping with the sea!"
As she said this she looked from the window, and suddenly her eye seemed
to be arrested by some unexpected sight. She gazed for a moment eagerly,
and then said, in the enthusiastic tone and manner of a sibyl, skilfully
assumed with the tact of one accustomed to turn to her own purpose every
passing circumstance,
"Look thou, Robert Hurtel! I have had pity on thy state, and have, by
the art thou hast dared to scorn, brought from many a far league away,
to thy tower's foot, a ship to waft thee and thy fortunes! See how
proudly it stands in towards the land, looking like a great white
spirit, with the moon glancing on its canvass wings. Oh, 'tis a brave
bark!"
The young man (her words taunting, malicious, and hateful as they were,
not having been without some effect in influencing him in determining on
his future course) sprang alertly to the window and gazed with interest
on the approaching vessel. It was about a third of a mile from the land,
standing directly towards the tower before a light breeze. It was
apparently about seventy tons burden, short and heavily built, rising
very high out of the water, with a very lofty stern. It had three masts,
each consisting of one entire stick, tapering to a slender point, and
terminated by a little triangular flag. On each mast was hoisted a huge,
square lugger's sail, which, with a short jib, stretched from the head
of the foremast to a stunted bowsprit, and a sort of tri-sail or spanker
aft worked without a boom, was all the canvass she carried or that
belonged to her peculiar class of craft.
He watched it with eager attention as it came bounding landward,
flinging the glittering spray from its round bows, its wet sides shining
in the moonlight as if sheathed with plates of silver. A chaos of hopes,
wishes, and conflicting resolutions agitated his mind as it approached;
after a short struggle, he resolved to throw himself on board if her
master would receive him, and depart with her wherever the winds should
waft her. Having come to this determination, he watched her motions with
additional interest; and when, after coming in so close to the shore
that he could discern that her decks were crowded with men, she wore
round and stood northward, his heart sank within him; and, dashing his
hand through the crimson glass, he was about to hail, when Elpsy checked
him:
"Hold! see you not they are only coming up to wind to lie to! Look! they
are already swinging round their clumsy sails."
The vessel came up slowly and heavily to the wind, and, by means of her
mainsail, lay as still as if at anchor. In a few moments afterward, as
they eagerly watched, they saw a boat let down, and several men descend
over the side into it. He uttered a joyful exclamation when he saw this
movement; and, without reflecting upon the character of the vessel, or
the object it could have in view in landing on so retired a coast at
such a time, he only thought of it as a means of bearing him from the
hateful shore, and perhaps opening for him some path to action and
mental excitement.
"See that flash of light on her deck! There is another gleam!" exclaimed
Elpsy.
"'Tis the glancing of the moonbeams on steel!" he replied, in a
gratified tone.
"There is a sound a man should know!" she said again.
"'Tis the ringing of arms!" he replied, in the same animated manner.
"What think you they are, young man?" asked she, with a peculiar smile,
laying her hand impressively on his arm.
"I know not, nor care, so I may cast my fortune with them!"
"Thou art, of a truth, thy father's son!"
"And, by the cross, he shall not be ashamed to own me!" he replied, in a
desperate and determined tone.
"I will tell thee what they are--for I have passed my life by the
seaside, and know the nature, and have learned to know the occupation
and nation of each ship by its fashion, as I would tell a tradesman's by
his garb."
"What, then, is the nation of this barque?"
"He is a Dane."
"Its nature?"
"To sail in shallow waters, and run before the wind."
"Its business on the sea?"
"To rob, pillage, and slay!"
"Ha, a bucanier?"
"A Dane."
"'Tis but another name for pirate in these waters. By the cross! when I
saw the glitter of steel in the hands of its crew, I half guessed it."
"Wilt thou now link thy fate with theirs?"
"Am I not fit to be their comrade? Are they outcasts; what am I? Are
they branded with shame; who am I? Has society cast them from its bosom;
was I not born in bastardy? Am I not fallen lower than the lowest he
among them who hath been born in wedlock? Why should I hesitate to mate
with my fellows? What has the honourable world to invite me to? What if
I could bury in oblivion from the reach of my own thoughts the black
stain upon my birth and hitherto noble name, and, under a new one, with
a strong heart and virtuous resolves, throw myself into the arena of
honourable contest, and should succeed in winning a name that men would
do homage to--should I not wear it, feeling that a sword was suspended
by a hair above my head?"
"How mean you?" she asked, struck with the impassioned and despairing
tones of his voice.
"I mean that, if, after carrying the secret like a living serpent coiled
in my heart for years, I should, without suspicion, chance to win a fair
name, the time at length would come when some one, with a too faithful
memory, would recognise the bastard Hurtel--the quondam Lester--in the
successful adventurer; and then--No, no!" he said, bitterly, "no, no! It
may not be! The presence of this ship points me to the course I should
pursue. I obey the fate that has directed it hither!"
"Wilt thou become a pirate?" she said, with a natural and feeling
manner, as if prompted by some suddenly-awakened interest in him.
"Yesterday Lord of Lester--to-day a pirate!"
"Yes."
"Curse the tongue that told thee of thy birth! But," she continued,
muttering with her usual quick tones and nervousness of manner, "it was
so pleasant to tell him, for his father's sake, he looked so like him!
And then it was a pleasure to humble his pride, which he made even me
the victim of: and so, as my master would have it, I could not, for the
life o' me, longer help telling him the love-story I had kept so many
years in my heart for him. Ho! ho! ha! ha! and a pleasant tale it was,
too!" she added in that phrensied strain which seemed to be most natural
to her.
While she was speaking the boat, which appeared to be full of men, put
off from the vessel, and they could distinctly hear the command to "let
fall," followed by the splash of the falling sweeps.
"Give way!" in a stern, deep tone, came directly afterward distinctly to
their ears; and, shooting out from the vessel's side, the boat moved in
towards the cliff.
As it neared the shore, one of the men stood up in the stern, and was
heard to command them to cease pulling; and, for a few seconds
afterward, he seemed to be reconnoitring the beach. Apparently satisfied
with his scrutiny, he ordered them to give way again, steered directly
to the foot of the tower, and skilfully run the boat alongside of the
rock almost beneath the window.
"Now lay off an oar's length from the shore, and wait for me," said the
one who had steered the boat, and who appeared to be the leader. "Be on
the alert against surprise, though there's little fear of any one being
within a league of the old tower. Carl, you and Evan take the coil of
rigging and come with me."
As he spoke he leaped on the projection of the rock; then measuring the
cliff with his eye, he placed his cutlass between his teeth and began to
ascend. By the aid of numerous fissures and bold spurs jutting out from
the sides he reached the top, closely followed by his men. Here he
paused a moment, resting on his cutlass, and looked about him. He stood
directly beneath the window from which Elpsy and the young man were
looking, and was plainly visible to them. He was a short, stout-built
man, with a ruddy complexion, browned by the winds and suns of every
clime. His hair was gray, and hung in straight locks about his ears;
and, judging by the deeply-indented lines of his weather-worn visage,
his age was about fifty; yet his compactly-built figure, his light
motions, and athletic appearance, gave indications of many years less.
His countenance, turned upward to their full gaze in his survey of the
tower, wore an expression of careless jovialty, united with desperate
hardihood. The most striking characteristic of his face was a thick red
mustache covering his upper lip. He had on his head an immense fur cap,
and wore a short, full frock of a dark shade, secured at the waist by a
broad belt, stuck with large, heavy pistols of the kind known, at the
period, as the hand-harquebuss. He wore, also, voluminous breeches of
buff leather, buckled at the knee, red cloth gaiters, and high-quartered
shoes with pointed toes, and garnished with sparkling buckles of immense
size. By his side hung the empty sheath of the sabre on which he leaned.
His men, save the fur cap, for which they substituted red woollen ones
of a conical form, and the frock, instead of which they wore long
jackets, were--breeches, buckler, shoes, and gaiters--his counterpart in
apparel.
"'Tis the very spot I once knew it! The unchanged sea--the rock--this
gray tower! It seems as if but a day, and not eighteen years, had passed
since I banqueted here with Hurtel of the Red-Hand," he said to himself,
gazing round with revived recollections at each object. "Well, strange
things have happened since! He is dead, or an exile with a price on his
head; all our brave band scattered; and I, only, am left to stand once
more on this familiar spot. The old rookery looks desolate enough, and
seems to sympathize with its master's fortunes! Open your lantern, Carl,
and let us enter! This moon will scarce afford light where I wish to
penetrate! Heaven grant no evil spirit haunts here to keep guard over
the treasure I have come to carry off! But, if it still remains, I will
e'en cross blades with the devil for it, and win it, will he, nil he."
He passed as he spoke round the tower, and the next moment the listeners
heard the heavy footsteps of the three men echoing through the hall. The
young man was about to spring from the room to meet them, when Elpsy
held him back.
"Would you run upon death! They would sheathe their cutlasses in your
body ere you could open your lips. Hold, and hush! There is time enough.
We will see what their purpose is. I have half a guess, from his words,
at their business here."
"What!"
"Hurtel of the Red-Hand, the story goes, had secreted in some part of
the tower large sums of silver and gold, with which to aid the
conspiracy he headed. He had neither time nor means to take it away with
him, and doubtless it still remains here, and this bucanier is
acquainted with the secret."
"Ha!" he exclaimed, with surprise, "who told thee this?"
"Rumour, said I not!" she replied, after a moment's hesitation.
"And how should these know where to look for what has been concealed for
years?"
"Hark!" she cried, as a heavy noise reached them from a distant part of
the building, "they have opened the trap of the tower, and will descend
into the vaults. He is one that knows well the place."
"Doubtless, from his language, some one of my hospitable parent's
fellow-chiefs, who used to revel here in the days you tell of. I will
see what they do, and take opportunity of forming good fellowship with
my father's friend. Nay--but let me go, woman!"
He broke from her as she attempted to detain him, and, cautiously
opening the door, descended with a cautious and rapid step into the
hall. At its opposite extremity he saw, by the glimmer of a lamp held by
one of them, the two men standing over an opening in the floor, and
their leader just in the act of letting himself down into the
subterranean chamber beneath.
"Hold the ladder steady, Evan!" he said. "Thrust your lantern down at
arm's length, Carl, so that I can see where to place my foot. Ha! there,
I find bottom," he added, his voice sounding hollow from the depth;
"'tis dark and damp as a Calcutta blackhole! Faith, it's more like a
tomb than an honest underground apartment. I hope I shall not see
Hurtel's ghost guarding his box. Tumble down here, boys, and be ready to
hand above decks as soon as I find out where it's stowed away!"
The others, leaving their cutlasses behind, followed him into the vault.
Their heads had no sooner disappeared than the young man crossed the
hall with a free step to the trapdoor, and looked fearlessly after them.
He had from the first, when the vessel came in sight, deliberately
resolved to attach himself to the party; and now the frank, blunt manner
of the old sea-rover struck his fancy, and confirmed him in his
resolution. But he was at a loss how to make his intentions known--how
first to address men ready to shed blood on the instant without
question, and among whom, at such a time, the very discovery of his
presence might be fatal ere he could make known to the chief his
intentions. While watching them as they groped about through the vast
vault, an idea, characteristic of his now reckless disposition,
suggested by the ghostly apprehensions of the leader, entered his mind.
He paused for an instant, and then, favoured by the darkness, dropped
noiselessly into the chamber. With a step that gave back no sound, he
approached them as they moved in an opposite direction from him,
throwing the light all forward, and waited the opportunity he had chosen
for discovering himself.
"'Tis twelve paces to the south, eight paces to the east, and six paces
to the west again--which will bring me to the wall, and on the very
stone Red Hurtel and I placed over the gold," said the captain; "here
are twelve paces, well told!" he added, placing his foot immediately
afterward emphatically on the stone floor.
These words at once gave the youth a key to the course he should adopt.
His quick eye, as the leader turned to pace east, comprehended the
remaining angle at a glance, and, gliding away by the wall, he moved
cautiously and noiselessly along till he felt his foot press upon a
loose slab. He knew he must be on or near the spot; and drawing himself
to his full height, and unconsciously assuming a stern and resolute
look, called up by the novelty and danger of his situation, he waited
the angular advance of the captain, who, with his men, was too intent on
accurately marking his steps to look up even for a moment.
"Now west!" said the leader; and, turning as he spoke, he had counted on
to four, _five_, and was about to take the last step to the wall, when,
pronounced in a deep tone, that rung hollow through the vault, he heard
the word,
"Forbear!"
He lifted his eyes and fell back upon his men as the lantern shone full
upon the object, exclaiming,
"The ghost of Hurtel, by all that's good! Evan, come back here, you
villain! Carl, give me that lantern, coward!" he shouted to his men, who
turned and fled with affright.
He caught the light from the hand of the terrified Dane, and turned upon
this apparition, which, notwithstanding his coolness, had not a little
disconcerted him. He held the lamp, though standing off at a chosen
distance, to the face of the supposed ghost, and said, with an odd
mixture of natural boldness and superstitious fear,
"'Fore Heaven, comrade, you have grown full young in the other world!
But there is no mistaking the cut of your eye. Faith, but you can smile,
I see," he added, more freely. "There's no more mistaking your smile
than your black, ugly frown! So, suppose we shake hands, and, after we
get the chest aboard--for they say you don't want this sort of ballast
in the seas down below--why, we'll empty a can together, and spin a yarn
about old times before the cock crows!"
As the intrepid old sea-rover spoke, he extended his rough hand to grasp
that of the other. The young man hesitated to take it, for he was scarce
sure of his reception when it should be discovered that he was flesh and
blood.
"Never mind if your fingers be a little cold or so, 'tis the nature o'
ghosts. I can give you a grasp that'll put warmth into 'em, and last you
till you get back where you hail from. Come, old friend, give us your
digits, just to say you ain't offended at the liberty I am about to take
with your chest o' sparklers; and afterward I will just thank you to
step one side a bit!"
The young man smiled at the intrepidity of the seaman, and took the
proffered hand.
"Warm! by the bones of St. Nick! The old fellow below has been keeping
you over a hot fire, messmate. Well, you must confess, you lived a
wonderfully wicked life; and so, as the priests say, the devil will fry
it out of you. Sorry for you, on my word! Will lay by fifty of these
guilders in prayers for your soul! So take heart. Now just step aside
off that slab, which you stick to as if 'twas a tombstone, and we'll
bear a hand and bouse this old box out in the snapping of a bolt-rope."
"I am no spirit, but a habitant of this world, like thyself!" he said,
with firmness, and a straight-forward frankness that he wisely
calculated would have its effect; "I am a young adventurer, without name
or family, weal or wealth. I would take service with thee, and follow
thy fortunes on the sea!"
The bucanier listened with surprise; and as he became convinced, from
his words and manner, that he was no shade from the land of spirits,
which shadowy beings he seemed to fear no more than mortal substance,
his countenance instantly changed, and he surveyed him with a puzzled
look of surprise and doubt.
"So! this alters the case! Who art thou, then? what art thou doing
here--and on this particular stone? 'Tis mysterious, i'faith! Guarding
this treasure, which no man save Hurtel and I saw laid here; so like
him, and not be he! Yet thou canst not be Red Hurtel in the flesh, for
his hair would be as gray as mine by this time. Thou sayest thou art not
his spirit. Who, and what, then, in the name of St. Barnabas, may you
be?"
"His son."
"Ha! ho! There it is, as plain as my hand!" he said, slapping the flat
of his cutlass into his left palm. "Priest never had aught to do with
thy begetting or thy christening, I'll be sworn! I now remember he had a
leman-lady in the tower when I knew him. A proper youth," he added,
looking at him with interest, "and as like your father as one
marlin-spike is like another! So you inherit the old tower, I dare say,
and follow in his steps. St. Claus and the apostles! I would not be
surprised if you laid claim to the gold here!"
"I care neither for tower nor gold, good captain. To follow your
fortunes I alone ask."
"Do you know what fortunes I follow?" inquired the other, significantly.
"I care not, so there is work for the free hand and ready spirit."
"A chip of the old block! There's my hand to it. You shall have your
will, my brave one! Your father and I were comrades in that cursed
affair that made the country too hot to hold us. I have been a rover
since, and, trusting to my gray head, have ventured back to carry off
what gold I heard he had not time to remove. Thou shalt go with me for
thy father's sake, boy."
He grasped the old man's offered hand, and, for the moment, felt that he
was less alone in the world. What a change had one brief day made in the
feelings and destinies of this haughty young man!
"Bear a hand, you pale runaways!" cried the captain to the men, who,
seeing that their spirit had proved of flesh and blood, returned,
scowling darkly on the cause of their discomfiture. "Take hold of the
edge of that stone, and lift it from its bed. Place your hands on the
right spot, and it will come up like a cork."
The men made several ineffectual efforts to lift it, though even
assisted in their last attempt by their captain.
"How is this?" he said; "it should move with a finger's touch. Ha, I
have it! I had forgot. You might heave till you were gray, boys, and it
wouldn't stir a hair. Look at some of my magic."
He stooped as he spoke, and pressing the stone horizontally towards the
wall, it moved from its bed, and slid away slowly, as if on wheels,
beneath it exposing a cavity two feet square and about three feet deep,
containing an oaken box, bound with strong bands of rusted steel.
"Here it lies, like a biscuit in a bucket! Let us see if the gold has
got rusty."
He searched a few moments, and at length bore hard upon a corner of the
box, but without producing any effect.
"The spring is as tight as if Old Nick had his foot on it. Let us try
what this good steel, that has served me so often at a push, will do
now."
He pressed the point of his cutlass with steady force against one
corner, when suddenly the lid flew up, and a glittering pile of silver
and gold, and a remarkably shaped dagger, a foot in length, wider at the
point than the handle, and exceedingly rich with precious stones, met
their eyes.
There was a general exclamation of surprise at this display of treasure.
The young man took up the weapon and examined it with curiosity.
"That belonged to Hurtel of the Red-Hand, and he prized it, too!" said
the old pirate. "It shall be thine, young man! Holding it with that
grasp as you do, and your kindling eye, I would swear my old comrade
stood before me. If nature put the father's looks on all children as she
has on thee, it would be a blind father that wouldn't know his own
child. But it's only bas--hoit! I mean to say that children honestly
come by seldom show the breed they hail from as some other sort o' craft
do--I'faith, I haven't bettered it much! But, no harm meant, my brave
fellow! Keep that yataghan for your father's sake. He knew its use, and,
if you are long under me--"
"_Under_ you?" repeated the youth, his natural spirit breaking out.
"Ha! I like that! Better men than I will soon be under you, I see--'tis
in you born and bred! So! let us heave out this precious metal. Six
thousand told pounds, if my memory serves me. Heave heartily, boys.
There she moves! Now she rises on her toes! Steady strain. Hearty,
hearty. There you are!"
"Hafey golt 'tish dat dere, Evan," said one, straightening his bent
loins.
"Ap carnach! ant yer may will say tat, poy!" responded Evan, breathing
himself and passing the back of his hand across his brow, from which
started big drops of perspiration.
They now laid hold of it and dragged it beneath the trapdoor: with the
united efforts of the men, the captain, and even Lester--or Hurtel, as
for the present he should be called--they got it to the floor above,
reascended, and closed the scuttle.
"You will want fresh hands, captain," said the youthful novitiate, at
once readily entering into the spirit of his new vocation, and thirsting
for excitement as a foil to reflection; "shall I call two of your men
from the boat?"
"Ay, ay! do so!" said the captain; adding, as he darted away, "True as
steel, by St. Claus! I would rather lose the gold than lose him. He is
worth his weight of it!"
While he was speaking his protege reached the balcony, and, bending
over, ordered, in an authoritative tone, two of the men to ascend to
relieve their mates. There was a general exclamation of surprise from
the party below at the sound of the strange voice.
"Treason!"
"We are betrayed!"
"To the rescue of our captain!" were the various exclamations, in as
many different languages, followed by glancing of steel and clicking of
pistols, several of which were levelled at the window.
"Ho, fellows! will you not obey?" said he, sternly; "up, up-with you! By
the cross! if I were your captain, knaves, I would teach you to linger
after an order was given."
"Who in the devil have we there?" said one, in a gruff voice. "Shall I
pink him, mates?"
"Who talks of pinking? What, ho, ye villains!" shouted the captain, who
now appeared at the window. "This youth is my lieutenant, and see that
you obey him, or I will make a pair of earrings of a brace of you for
the main-yard-arms."
"That's another thing," said several voices. "Orders is orders, if they
come from the devil, so as he is got the commission in his pocket!"
"Two of the strongest of you lubberly oxen, clamber up here. Spring! be
nimble! nimble! Back the boat directly under, and keep her steady."
A moment afterward two of the men reached the top of the rock and sprung
into the balcony. It took but a short time to get the chest upon the
balustrade, lash it with the rope they had brought, rig a fall with a
brace of oars, and swing it off.
"Stand ready below there!" cried the captain.
"All ready."
"Handle it as if it was a baby. Gently, gently, or you will knock the
boat's bottom out! Swing it more aft! There, now, let her drop
amidships! Easy--not too fast! There she lies between the thwarts like a
pig in a pillory!"
The box was safely lowered into the launch, and followed with alacrity
by the men: the captain and his new lieutenant were also preparing to go
down, when each, at the same instant, felt himself touched from behind,
and, turning round, Elpsy confronted them.
"Who art thou, in the name of Beelzebub's mother?" demanded the captain,
staring with astonishment, not unmingled with superstitious dread, on
the deformed and hideous being who had so suddenly and mysteriously
appeared to him.
"I would speak with thee, Edmund Turill!"
"Then thou art Sathanas!" he cried, with astonishment; "how knowest thou
me?"
"It matters not. I know thee," she replied, in a tone of mystery. "That
youth goes with thee?" she added, inquiringly.
"He does!"
"See, then, that he is well treated, and receives not ill at thy hands.
Remember, once thou hadst a son!"
"Who art thou, i'the name of all the saints, woman?"
"It matters not. When thou thinkest of thy poor boy's bones, gibbeted
for sharing thy guilt o'er the gate of Cork, the winds whistling through
them with a sad wail, look kindly on this youth, and take him to thy
heart, as if he were thine own flesh and blood!"
"I will do it," he said, with emotion.
"Swear it."
"I swear it!"
"'Tis well. One question I have to ask thee, and truly answer it."
"Name it, woman!"
"Where wanders Hurtel of the Red-Hand?"
"'Tis said he died in the Indies!"
"'Tis false!" she cried, with energy. "He can never die unaccursed by
her he has wronged. No, no! he will have one to watch his pillow in his
dying throes he would rather burn in hell, to which he is doomed, than
see. No, no! his time has not yet come! his master will not let him slip
out o' life so easily. Oh, it will be a glory to see him die; and mock
his groans; and laugh, laugh at his terrors! Ha, ha, ha! Oh, will it not
be a jubilee to see him struggle with the death!"
"I'God's name, woman, tell me who thou art?"
"Dost not behold what I am? Wouldst have fair winds, I will raise thee
foul: wouldst have a smooth sea, I will make it boil and hiss: wilt say
a prayer, I will turn it into a curse ere it can leave thy lips."
"Avaunt, sorceress!" he cried, crossing himself with horror.
"Ha, ha! so you can feel my power! Oh, well! it is a-pleasant to make
men's stout hearts quake. Dost know me?" she asked, impressively,
approaching her face close to his.
"No!" he said, retreating and preparing to descend the rock. "Avoid
thee, Sathanas!"
"Listen!" she said, approaching and laying her hand on his arm, and
whispering low in his ear.
"_Thou!_" he exclaimed, instantly starting back, and surveying her with
mingled surprise, curiosity, and disgust.
"Wouldst care to leave thy revels and their lord, and, stealing to her
lone room, offer thy drunken love to her now! Ha, ha, ha! Does she not
look a comely leman for thy licentious love?" she added, with malicious
irony.
He gazed on her a few seconds by the light of the moon, and seemed too
much overpowered by surprise to speak. At length he said, in a tone of
horror,
"Hideous as thou art, it must be as thou sayest, for only thus could I
be known to thee! But, holy St. Claus!" he added, in a tone, "this
lad--is he--"
"No matter who he is! see thou harm him not!"
"I will be a father to him, woman! 'Fore Heaven," he exclaimed afresh,
gazing upon her with mingled curiosity and pity, "was there ever such
a--"
"Mind me not! spare your sympathy! Go!--Stay!" she cried, earnestly
recalling him; "if you ever meet _him_, breathe not into his ears what
and whom you have this night seen. I have made myself known to thee for
this youth's sake. Farewell, young man," she said, approaching Lester as
he stood on the rock, to which he had bounded from the balcony at the
beginning of their conference. She extended her hand as she spoke. He
took it, and grasped it warmly saying, in a soothing tone,
"Good-by, Elpsy. I have no ill-will against thee in my heart. Thou hast
done but thy duty!"
The sorceress seemed to be moved, turned away from him without speaking,
as if her feelings choked utterance, and stalked away through the hall,
and left the tower.
"Come, my lad," said the captain, turning away and speaking with
feeling, after following with his eyes her retreating form till it
disappeared in the forest, "she is a poor, unhappy creature, and it'll
come hard, I'm thinking, on him that made her so. But this is no time
for sentiment. Let us aboard and make an offing ere the dawn; for, if we
are spied lying here, we shall have the king's bulldog down upon us from
windward I saw lying in Cor Bay, who will bark to some purpose if he
should catch us here on a lee shore."
Thus speaking, the old seaman lightly descended the rock to the boat,
followed by his youthful lieutenant, and in a few minutes they reached
the vessel.
The moment his foot touched the deck the captain gave orders to make
sail: the long, crooked tiller was put hard up to windward; the heavy
mainsail swung back to its place; the vessel's head turned slowly off,
and, feeling the wind on her quarter, she stood in landward for a few
seconds to gain headway, and then came gracefully round with her
starboard bow to the wind. With each broad sail drawn nearly fore and
aft, she lay as near it as her short blunt build would permit, and
stretched away from the shore on a long tack towards the south.