little hamlet of Jacobsford, was cleft in twain, if we may use the
expression, for the length of rather more than a furlong, at a little
distance from the outskirts of the village, by the lofty garden walls
of an old parsonage house, which terminated nearly in a point, at the
northern end, in the centre of the highway. The road was thus divided
into two branches: these, after skirting the walls on the east and west,
united again at the south end, leaving the parsonage grounds isolated
from other property. The boundary walls were of an unusual height and
thickness; they were surmounted by strong oaken palisading, the top
of which presented an impassable barrier of long and projecting iron
spikes. The brick-work, although evidently old, was in excellent
condition: not a single leaf of ivy could be found upon its surface,
nor was there a fissure or projection perceptible which would afford
a footing or hold to the most expert bird's-nesting boy, or youthful
robber of orchards, in the neighbourhood. The entrance gate was low,
narrow, immensely thick, and barred and banded with iron on the inner
side. The tops of several yew and elm trees might be seen above the
palisading, but none grew within several feet of the wall: among
their summits, rose several brick chimneys, of octagonal shape; and,
occasionally, when the branches were blown to and fro by an autumnal
wind, a ruddy reflection of the rising or setting sun was just
perceptible, gleaming from the highest windows of the house, through
the sear and scanty foliage in which it was embosomed. According to
tradition, Prince Rupert passed a night or two there, in the time of
the civil war; shortly after his departure, it withstood a siege of some
days, by a detachment unprovided with artillery; and surrendered only on
account of its garrison being destitute of food. Within the memory of
a few of the oldest villagers, it was said to have been occupied by a
society of nuns: of the truth of this statement, however, it appears
that the respectable sisterhood of Shepton Mallet entertain very grave,
and, apparently, well-founded doubts.
For many years previously to and at the period when the events about to
be recorded took place, a very excellent clergyman, of high scholastic
attainments, resided in the parsonage house. Doctor Plympton was
connected, by marriage, with several opulent families in Jamaica; and
he usually had two or three West-Indian pupils, whose education was
entirely confided to him by their friends. Occasionally, also, he
directed the studies of one or two young gentlemen, whose relatives
lived in the neighbourhood; but the number of his scholars seldom
exceeded four, and he devoted nearly the whole of his time to their
advancement in classical learning.
Doctor Plympton had long been a widower: his only child, Isabel, had
scarcely attained her sixteenth year, when she became an object of most
ardent attachment to a young gentleman of very violent passions, and
the most daring nature, who had spent nine years of his life under the
Doctor's roof, and had scarcely quitted it a year, when, coming of age,
he entered into possession of a good estate, within half an hour's ride
of the parsonage.
Charles Perry,--for that was the name of Isabel's lover,--had profited
but little by the Doctor's instructions: wild and ungovernable from his
boyhood, Charles, even from the time he entered his teens, was an object
of positive terror to his father, who was a man of a remarkably mild
and retiring disposition. As the youth advanced towards manhood, he grew
still more boisterous; and the elder Mr. Perry, incapable of enduring
the society of his son, yet unwilling to trust him far from home,
contrived, by threatening to disinherit him in case of disobedience, to
keep him under Doctor Plympton's care until he was nearly twenty years
of age. At that time his father died, and Charles insisted upon burning
his books and quitting his tutor's residence. On the strength of
his expectations, and the known honesty of his heart, he immediately
procured a supply of cash, and indulged his natural inclination for
horses and dogs, to such an extent, that some of his fox-hunting
neighbours lamented that a lad of his spirit had not ten or twenty
thousand, instead of fifteen hundred a year.
Young Perry had never been a favorite with Doctor Plympton; but his
conduct, after the decease of his father, was so directly opposed to
the worthy Doctor's ideas of propriety, that he was heard to say, on
one occasion, when Isabel was relating some bold equestrian achievement
which had been recently performed by her lover, that he hoped to be
forgiven, and shortly to eradicate the evil weed from his heart, but if
at that moment, or ever in the course of his long life, he entertained
an antipathy towards any human being, Charles Perry was the man. It
would be impossible to describe the worthy Doctor's indignation and
alarm, on hearing, a few days afterwards, that Charles had declared,
in the presence of his own grooms--in whose society he spent a great
portion of his time--that he meant to have Isabel Plympton, by hook or
by crook, before Candlemas-day, let who would say nay.
That his child, his little girl,--as he still called the handsome and
womanly-looking Isabel--should be an object of love, Doctor Plympton
could scarcely believe. The idea of her marrying, even at a mature age,
and quitting his arms for those of a husband, had never entered his
brain; but the thought of such person as Charles Perry despoiling him
of his darling, quite destroyed his usual equanimity of temper. He wept
over Isabel, and very innocently poured the whole tide of his troubles
on the subject into her ear; but he felt rather surprised to perceive
no symptoms of alarm on his daughter's countenance, while he indignantly
repeated young Perry's threats to carry her off. In the course of a
week, the Doctor heard, to his utter amazement, from a good-natured
friend, that Isabel had long been aware of Charles Ferry's attachment,
and was just as willing to be run away with, as Charles could possibly
be to run away with her. Several expressions which fell from Isabel,
during a conversation which he subsequently had with her on the subject,
induced Doctor Plympton to believe, that his good-natured friend's
information was perfectly correct; and he, forthwith, concerted measures
to frustrate young Perry's designs.
Isabel's walks were confined within the high and almost impassable
boundary-walls of the parsonage grounds; her father constantly carried
the huge key of the entrance door in his pocket, and willingly submitted
to the drudgery of personally answering every one who rang the bell. He
altogether declined receiving his usual visitors, and became, at once,
so attentive a gaoler over his lovely young prisoner, that nothing could
induce him even to cross the road. He bribed Patty Wallis with a new
Bible, Hervey's Meditations among the Tombs, and Young's Night Thoughts,
to be a spy upon the actions of her young mistress; and paid a lame
thatcher two shillings a week to inspect the outside of the wall every
night, while he did the like within, In order to detect any attempt that
might be made at a breach.
But Doctor Plympton derived much more efficient assistance in his
difficult task, from a quarter to which he had never dreamed of looking
for aid, than either his outward ally, the thatcher, or his domestic
spy, the waiting-maid, could possibly afford him. Doctor Plympton had
two West-Indian pupils in his house; both of whom were deeply smitten
with the charms of Isabel, and equally resolved on exercising the most
persevering vigilance to prevent the blooming young coquette,--who
contrived to make each of them suspect that he held a place in
her affections,--from escaping to, or being carried off by, their
enterprising rival, Charles Perry. These young gentlemen, one of whom
was now nineteen years of age, and the other about six months younger,
had been Isabel's play-fellows in her childhood; and Doctor Plympton,
who seemed to be totally unconscious of their gradual approach towards
man's estate, had as little apprehension of their falling in love with
Isabel, at this period, as when they played blindman's buff and hunt the
slipper together, eight or nine years before.
Godfrey Fairfax, the elder of the two pupils,--a vain, forward,
impetuous young man,--flattered himself that Isabel was pleased with his
attentions: he felt satisfied, nevertheless, that the young coquette
was of an unusually capricious disposition. He was by no means sure that
Perry had not a decided preference over him in her heart; and if his
rival did not already enjoy so enviable a superiority, he feared that
the consequence of her present state of restraint would be a paroxysm
of attachment to the individual of whom she was even forbidden to think.
Isabel doated on a frolic; she thought nothing could be so delightful as
a romantic elopement; and far from being unhappy at the vigilance with
which she was guarded, she lived in a state of positive bliss. Her
situation was that of a heroine; and all her father's precautions, to
prevent her from passing the garden-walls, were, to her, sources of
unspeakable satisfaction. Godfrey was perfectly acquainted with her
feelings, and strongly tainted with the same leaven himself. He knew how
much he would dare, were he in Charles Perry's place; and he had good
reasons for believing, that any successful exploit to obtain possession
of her person, would be rewarded with the willing gift of young Isabel's
hand. Charles Perry's reckless character rendered him exceedingly
formidable as a rival, in the affections of such a girl as Isabel
Plympton: but what created more doubts and fears in Godfrey's breast
than any other circumstance, was the fact of a large Newfoundland dog,
the property of Charles Perry, obtaining frequent ingress--nobody could
conceive by what means--to Doctor Plympton's pleasure-grounds. Godfrey
suspected that a correspondence was carried on between Perry and Isabel
by means of the dog; and he shot at him several times, but without
success.
Of his quiet, demure, and unassuming school-fellow, George Wharton,
Godfrey did not entertain the least degree of fear: he attributed
Isabel's familiarity with him to their having been brought up together;
for that Wharton could really love so giddy a girl as Isabel, he
would not permit himself to believe. But the truth is, that George
passionately doated on Isabel; and she, much to her satisfaction, had
made herself acquainted with the state of his feelings towards her. She
had even encouraged him, by a blushing avowal that she esteemed him more
than any other human being, except her father; and, in all probability,
at that moment, she uttered the genuine language of her heart: but, it
is very certain, in less than five minutes afterwards, Godfrey Fairfax
was on his knees before her, and kissing her exquisite hand, with an
enthusiasm of manner, which she did not appear at all disposed to check.
Perhaps she scarcely knew whom she loved best; and trusted to accident
for determining on which of the three young men her choice should fall.
While matters remained in this state at the parsonage, the day of
Godfrey's departure from the house of his venerable tutor was fast
approaching:--the vessel, by which he was to return to his native
island, Demerara, had already completed her cargo, and nearly concluded
the final preparations for her voyage.--Godfrey saw that no time was
to be lost, if he wished to make Isabel Plympton his own: he was almost
constantly with her, and pleaded his cause with such fervour, that, by
degrees, Isabel began to forget Charles Perry, to avoid George Wharton,
and to feel unhappy if Godfrey Fairfax were absent but for a few moments
from her side. Godfrey knew that it would be useless to implore Doctor
Plympton for his consent to their union: it would have struck the old
gentleman with horror, had a pupil of his,--a youth of Godfrey's
immense expectations,--offered to marry Isabel. He would have spumed
the proposal as a direct attack upon his honour; and have lost his
life rather than suffered such a marriage to take place. It would have
amounted, in his opinion, to a breach of his duty towards his employers,
to have suffered one of his pupils to fall in love with Isabel. But,
even if there were any hopes that Doctor Plympton would give his consent
to the match, provided Godfrey obtained that of his father, the young
man could not delay his felicity; nor would he run the hazard of
Isabel's changing her mind, or being won by Perry, or even young
Wharton, while he was sailing to Demerara and back again. Isabel, too,
he was sure, would never agree to a mere common-place match with him,
when another lover was striving; night and day, to run away with her;
and Godfrey, under all the circumstances, deemed it most prudent to
carry her off, if possible, without asking any body's permission but her
own.
He had made no arrangements for a legal union with Isabel; his sole
object was to get her out of her father's custody, and under his own
protection. He felt assured that his love was too sincere to permit him
to act dishonourably towards her; and a vague idea floated across
his mind of carrying her on board the vessel by which he was to leave
England, and marrying her at the capstan, according to the forms and
usages observed at sea. The principal difficulty consisted in removing
her beyond the walls of her father's pleasure-grounds. Doctor Plympton's
vigilance was still unabated; George Wharton, although he had scarcely
spoken to Isabel for several days past, rarely lost sight of her for
a longer period than half an hour; Patty Wallis slept in her room,
the windows of which were immensely high; and the key of the door
was regularly deposited under the Doctor's pillow. With a heavy heart
Godfrey began to pack up his clothes and books, for the day of his
departure was at hand,--when the idea of conveying Isabel out of the
house in his large trunk, suddenly flashed upon him. He flew to the
young lady and communicated to her what he called the happy
discovery; and she, without a moment's hesitation, gaily agreed to his
proposition,--appearing quite delighted with the idea of escaping in so
mysterious and legitimately romantic a manner.
Godfrey passed the remainder of the day in concealing his clothes and
books, boring air-holes in the chest, and lining it with the softest
materials he could procure. On the morning appointed for his departure,
Isabel stole unperceived up to the store-room, where Godfrey was
anxiously waiting to receive her, and stepped blithely into the trunk.
Within an hour after, it was half a mile on the road towards Bristol,
in the fly-wagon, which Godfrey had previously ordered to call at the
parsonage for his heavy baggage, a short time before his own intended
departure. At length the chaise, in which he was to leave the village
for ever, drew up to the garden gate. Godfrey took a hurried leave of
his old master and fellow student, leaped into the vehicle, and told the
post-boy not to spare his spurs if he expected to be well paid.
In less than an hour, the young gentleman alighted at the wagon-office.
Assuming as cool and unconcerned an air as he possibly could, he
observed, in a careless tone, to a clerk in the office,--“I am looking
for a trunk of mine, but I do not see it: I suppose we must have passed
your wagon on the road.”
“All our wagons are in, sir,” replied the clerk: “we don't expect
another arrival till to-morrow morning.”
“Oh! very good: then my chest must be here. I hope you have taken
particular precautions in unloading it: I wrote 'with care--this side
upwards,' on it, in very large letters.”
“Who was it addressed to, sir?”
“Why, to me, certainly;--Godfrey Fairfax, Esquire, Demrara--”
“To be left at the office till called for?”
“Exactly;--where is it? I've not much time to lose.”
“Why, sir, it has been gone away from here--”
“Gone away!”
“Yes, sir; about,--let me see,” continued the clerk, lazily turning
to look at the office clock; “why, about, as near as may be, nine or
ten,--ay, say ten,--about ten minutes ago, sir.”
“Ten minutes ago, sir! What do you mean?--Are you mad? I'll play the
devil with you! Where's my chest?”
“I told you before, it was gone, sir.”
“Gone, sir! How could it go, sir? Didn't I direct it to be left here
till called for?”
“Very well, sir; and so it was left here till called for: it stood in
the office for five minutes or more, and then--”
“And then--what then?”
“Why, then, a little black porter called for it, and took it away with
him on a truck.”
“Who was he?--Where has he taken it?--I'll be the ruin of you. The
contents of that trunk are invaluable.”
“I suppose you didn't insure it: we don't answer for any thing above
the value of five pounds unless it's insured;--vide the notice on our
tickets.”
“Don't talk to me of your tickets, but answer me, scoundrel!”
“Scoundrel!”
“Where has the villain conveyed it?”
“Can't say.”
“Who was he?”
“Don't know.”
“Distraction! How could you be such a fool as to let him have it?”
“Why not?--How was I to know?--You'd think it odd if you was to send a
porter for your chest--”
“Certainly; but--”
“Very well, then: how could I tell but what the little black fellow was
sent by you?--He asked for it quite correctly, according to the address;
and that's what we go by, of course, in these cases. And even now, how
can I tell but what he was sent by the right owner, and that you're come
under false pretences.”
“What, rascal!”
“You'll excuse me:--but you don't authenticate yourself, you know; and
I've a right to think as I please. If we were to hold a tight hand on
every gentleman's luggage, until he proved his birth, parentage, and
education, why, fifty clerks couldn't get through the work. I'll put a
case:--suppose, now, you _are_ the gentleman you represent yourself to
be,--and, mind me, I don't say you are not,--how should you like, when
you came here for your chest, for me to ask you for your certificate of
baptism?”
“You drive me mad! Can you give me no clue?”
“None in the world;--you ought to have written to us.”
“Write to you?--why should I write?”
“Why, to warn us against giving up the goods to anybody except under an
order, with the same signature as that in your letter: then even if a
forgery were committed, by a comparison of hands--don't you see?--”
“My good fellow!” interrupted the disconsolate and bewildered Godfrey,
“you know not what you've done. This is a horrid act: it will be the
death of me; and perhaps you may live to repent ever having seen this
unlucky day. There was a lady in the chest.”
The clerk turned his large dull eyes upon Godfrey, and after a long and
deliberate stare of wonder, exclaimed, “Dead or alive?”
“Alive; alive, I hope that is,--alive, I mean, of course.--Do you take
me for a body-snatcher? If you have a spark of pity in your bosom, you
will put me in the way of tracing the villain who has inflicted these
agonies upon me. What can I do?”
“Why, if there's a lady in the case--”
“There is, I declare;--I solemnly protest there is.”
“Young or old?” “Young--young, to be sure.”
“Why, then,--I think you ought to lose no time.”
“Pshaw! I know that well enough.”
“If I were you, I should be off directly.”
“Off!--S'death, man! you enrage me. What do you mean by be off?'”
“Why, off after him, to be sure.”
“Which way did he go?”
“Ah! there I'm at fault.”
Godfrey could bear no more:--he rushed out of the office, hallooed
“Porter!” five or six times, and, in a few seconds, half-a-dozen knights
of the knot were advancing, from different corners of the inn yard,
towards him. “My good fellows,” said he, “did any of you see a little
black fellow taking a large trunk or chest from the office, on a truck,
this morning?”
Two of them had seen the little black man, but they did not recollect in
what direction he went after quitting the yard.
“How dreadfully provoking!” exclaimed Godfrey: “My only course is
to ransack every street--every corner, in quest of him. I'll give ten
guineas to any one who will discover the wretch. Away with you at
once;--bring all the black porters you know or meet with, to the office;
and, perhaps, the clerk may identify the rascal among them. I've been
robbed!--do you hear?--robbed--”
“And there's a lady in the case,” said the clerk, from the threshold of
the office-door, where he stood, carefully nibbing a pen; “a mistake has
occurred, it seems; and though it's no fault of ours, we should be glad
to see the matter set to rights: therefore, my lads, look sharp, and the
gentleman, I've no doubt, will come down handsomely. I think I've seen
the little black rascal before, and I'm pretty certain I should know him
again: if I shouldn't, Ikey Pope would, I reckon; for he helped him to
put the chest on the truck.”
“And where is Ikey, as you call him?” eagerly inquired Godfrey.
“He's asleep again, I suppose, among the luggage.--Ikey!--You see, he's
got to sit up for the wagons at night, and never has his regular rest.
He's like a dog--Ikey!--like a dog that turns round three times, and so
makes his bed anywhere.--Ikey!” A short, muscular, dirty-looking fellow
now raised his head from among the packages which lay in the yard, and
without opening his eyes, signified that he was awake, by growling forth
“Well, what now?”
“Ikey,” said the clerk, “didn't you help a porter to load a truck with a
large chest, some little time ago?”
“Yes.”
“Should you know him again?”
“No!” replied Ikey, and his head disappeared behind a large package as
he spoke.
“Well, there's no time to lose, comrades,” said one of the porters:
“will the gentleman pay us for our time if we don't succeed?”
“Oh! of course,” replied the clerk; “away with you!”
The porters immediately departed in different directions; and Godfrey,
after pacing the yard for a few minutes, in great anguish of mind,
sallied forth himself in quest of the little black porter. After running
through some of the adjacent streets, and despatching another half-dozen
porters, whom he found standing round the door of an inn, to seek for
the fellow who had so mysteriously borne away “his casket with its
precious pearl,” he hastened back to the wagon-office, hoping that some
of his emissaries might have brought in the little black porter during
his absence. None of them, however, had yet returned. Godfrey, half
frantic, ran off again: and after half an hour's absence, he retraced
his steps towards the wagon-office.
“Well, sir,” said the clerk, in his usual slow and solemn tone, as
Godfrey entered, “I have had three or four of them back; and they've
brought and sent in half-a-score of black porters, occasional waiters,
valets out of place, journeymen chairmen, _et cetera_, and so forth;
but, unfortunately--”
“The little delinquent was not among them, I suppose.”
“No, nor any one like him: but I'll tell you what I did--”
“Speak quicker:--consider my impatience. Did you employ them all to hunt
out the villain?”
“Why, it was a bold step, perhaps; but--”
“Did you, or did you not?”
“I did.”
“A thousand thanks!--I'll be off again.”
“But, I say, sir;--you'll excuse me;--now, if I were you, I'll just tell
you what I'd do.”
“Well, my dear friend, what?--quick--what?”
“Why, I'd roust out Ikey Pope. He's the man to beat up your game.”
“What! the fellow who answers without unclosing his eyelids?”
“Why, to say the truth, he don't much like daylight. Nobody sees the
colour of his eye, I reckon, above once a week; but, for all that,
there's few can match him. He's more like a dog than a Christian. He'll
find what every body else has lost; but upon what principle he works, I
can't say: I think he does it all by instinct.”
“Let us send him out at once, then.”
“Not so fast, sir:--Ikey's next kin to a brute, and must be treated
accordingly. We must manage him.”
“Well, you know him, and--”
“Yes, and he knows me: I have condescended to play so many tricks with
him, that he won't trust me: but he'll believe you.”
“And how shall I enlist him in my service? I stand on thorns:--for
Heaven's sake be speedy.”
“Why, if you only tell him he has a good leg for a boot, and promise him
an old pair of Hessians, he's your humble servant to command; for, ugly
as he is, he's so proud of his leg, that--”
“Call him;--call him, at once.”
The clerk now roused Ikey, and, with considerable difficulty, induced
him to leave his hard and comfortless dormitory.