While the examination had been proceeding in the little
breakfast-parlor, the ear of Captain Delaware had been more than once
struck by a number of voices speaking in the library, from which it
opened: and as he was conducted through that apartment, the first
sight that presented itself was his sister, Blanche, bathed in tears.
She had been prevented from entering the room in which the magistrates
sat; but the moment she beheld her brother, she sprang forward, and
threw herself into his arms, clinging to his bosom in an agony of
distress and tenderness. Captain Delaware kissed her cheek and bade
her be comforted, assuring her that the charge against him was not
only false, but perfectly absurd; and that a few hours would set him
at liberty again.
"Oh, no! No, no!" cried Blanche. "I see it all, William! It is all
part of a plot to ruin us, and they will never be satisfied till we
are crushed and disgraced. That Lord Ashborough and his lawyer will
work their designs by some means, be assured!"
At that moment Dr. Wilton advanced from the inner room, and withdrew
Blanche from the arms of her brother, bidding her take heart; and
whispering that he had already sent off a messenger for Mr. Beauchamp,
whose presence, he doubted not, would clear up the whole story.
Blanche shook her head mournfully, and covered her eyes with her
hands, while her brother was led away to his own room. The door was
locked on the outside, and the constables, placing themselves in the
ante-room, cut off all communication between the young officer and his
family, who remained desolate and anxious, amid the scenes which had
lately been so full of calm happiness and enjoyment.
In the mean while, Captain Delaware stated himself at the table, in
his own room, and endeavored to bend the whole powers of his mind to
the investigation of his own situation in all its bearings. While
either in the actual presence of the magistrates, or under the eyes of
his own family, he had felt it necessary to repel every thought of
real danger, and not to yield one step to apprehension; but now he saw
that it was indispensable to look at his situation in the worst point
of view, and to admit the utmost extent of the peril in which he
stood.
He was innocent! that was one great source of confidence and
expectation, for he believed, and felt sure, that an innocent man had
very seldom suffered. But still such things had occasionally taken
place, beyond all doubt; and it behoved him to consider whether his
own might not be one of those cases in which such an event was likely.
As he looked at the evidence against himself, he could not but
acknowledge that, as it stood at the present moment, there was a
strong presumption of his guilt. He had been seen to threaten the
murdered man, in the morning; he had been seen in the neighborhood of
his house, on the night the murder was committed; he had been in known
and acknowledged want of the money up to that hour; and then he had
suddenly obtained possession of it in a manner of which he could give
no probable account. Several of the notes had been certainly in
possession of the murdered man a few hours before the crime was
committed on his person; and one of them, he had himself remarked,
while paying it to the lawyer, appeared stained with blood. "Were I
upon a jury," he thought, "what verdict would I return! Guilty,
undoubtedly--unless some clear explanation of such suspicious
circumstances could be given and substantiated. Now, let me consider
what I have to give, and how it can be proved.
"I have nothing but the bare supposition that the money was placed in
my room by Henry Beauchamp, or by his servant; and although that
surmise may be equal to a certainty in my own mind, it is likely to
have little weight with others. Dr. Wilton, too, admits that he set
out for London about three o'clock, when the money assuredly was not
here! Can I be mistaken in supposing it to have been him! Can
Blanche's suspicion be correct, that this is part of a plan to ruin my
father and his family forever!"
As these ideas crossed William Delaware's mind, he shuddered with
mingled feelings of horror at the thought of such guilt, and
apprehension for the consequences to himself; but at the same time, as
he suffered his mind to rest upon the suspicion, it acquired a degree
of probability that he was not inclined to assign to it at first. He
recalled the conduct which Lord Ashborough had pursued toward his
father through life--the vindictive malice he had displayed during the
two or three years that elapsed after their first quarrel, as young
men--the cold grinding exactions, not unmingled with scorn, with which
he had kept him through life at fortune's lowest ebb--the rude
harshness with which he had repelled his first proposal for redeeming
the annuity. Then the sudden change in his manners--the facility with
which he agreed to that which he had so peremptorily declined--the
business of the bills--the delay in the payment--and the fact of the
lawyer having come down prepared with a writ against his father,
before he could have known, except by collusion with the miser,
whether the money would be paid or not--all these facts passed before
his remembrance, and with that rapidity of conclusion which was one of
his greatest weaknesses, he instantly became convinced that Lord
Ashborough and his adviser would halt at no step which might crush his
father, and his father's house; that the present charge originated in
such motives; and that it would be supported against him by every
artful device that hatred could frame, or wealth and skill could carry
through. He did not, it is true, suppose that the unhappy man at
Ryebury had been murdered with a view to the charge against him; but
he did believe that the murder had been seized upon as an incident to
render the crime more heinous; and, however it occurred that the two
facts leaped so well together, he concluded that the money had been
placed in his room for the express purpose of betraying himself and
his family, by bringing against him some accusation, the very
suspicion of which would ruin him in his profession, degrade him from
his station in society, and sink his father beneath a load of shame
and despair.
He thought over it, again and again; and whenever the improbabilities,
which were not thinly mingled with the composition of his suspicions,
came across his mind, and made him begin to doubt if he were right, he
set against them, on the other hand, all the reasons that existed for
believing that the money could not have been left by Beauchamp, and
called to mind also the words of his sister.
"How could such a suspicion enter her mind," he asked himself, "unless
she had discovered something to make her believe that Lord Ashborough
and his lawyer were bent upon her family's ruin?" and, as he thus
thought, he would have given worlds for a few minutes' conversation
with Blanche, longing for it, of course, the more eagerly on account
of its impossibility.
Whichever way he turned, there were improbabilities to be encountered;
and for long he vacillated between the opinion that Beauchamp had left
the money in his chamber, and the suspicion that it had been placed
there by some of the agents of Lord Ashborough, in order that a charge
of robbery, embezzlement, or something equally criminal and degrading,
might be raised upon the fact. Now the one predominated, now the
other, and his mind continued tossed between the two, like a ship
rolling in the long swell that follows a severe storm. At length he
determined to write down all the causes of suspicion he had against
the lawyer Peter Tims, in order to lay them clearly and substantially
before the magistrates or the coroner, that his own established
reputation and high character might be supported by strong proofs of
animosity and vindictive feeling on the part of the accuser.
Materials for writing were luckily to be found in his chamber, and he
proceeded to place on paper the history of the whole transaction with
Lord Ashborough up to the payment of the bill that morning; but the
effect upon his own mind was fully as great as that which he intended
to produce upon others; and, before he had concluded the paper, he was
morally convinced, that by the instigation of Lord Ashborough's
agent, and by his instigation alone, the money had been left in his
room. He laid down the pen to combine in thought this certainty with
the presumptions of guilt already brought forward against him; and, as
he perceived how much might be made of the evidence already
collected--how little opportunity the law allowed him for gathering
the means of rebutting the accusation--and what a facility unbounded
wealth, great influence, and freedom from all restraint, gave to his
enemy, he clasped his hands and gave himself up to despair.
"Beauchamp will of course be sent for," he thought; "and, when he
comes, it only remains for him to declare that he had nothing to do
with the transaction--and my condemnation takes place, of course. Good
God! a commander in his Majesty's navy to die like a common felon! My
name and my family to be branded with infamy forever! My father to
expire of shame within the year; and my poor Blanche, if she survive,
to be pointed at for life as the sister of the murderer, William
Delaware! Ay!" he thought, more bitterly still, "and Beauchamp will
thank his good stars which kept him from such an alliance; and Maria
Beauchamp may perhaps blush when she remembers that the murderer was
her cousin. But time," he cried, starting up, "time will do me
justice, and clear my name; and then she may weep to think how I was
wronged, and how she believed it!"
After walking up and down the room for some time, in a state of mind
which it would be difficult to describe, he took down a book and
endeavored to read, but in vain. He then strove to amuse his mind by
looking out of the window, which commanded an extensive view over the
wilder part of the park at the back of the house, and thence to the
rich country beyond Ryebury, and the high downs which crowned the
cliffs above the sea. All the scene was bright and clear, and there
was a beautiful air of freshness and liberty in the whole--the very
clouds, as they skimmed over the sky, and raced their dark shadows
along the lea, spoke of light freedom, and no one would have enjoyed
it more than William Delaware at any other moment; but every thing
that is sweet requires the heart to be in tune. The pitch of all his
feelings was many a tone too low--the fairer was the scene the greater
was the discord it produced with the thoughts of the prisoner, and the
whole was "like sweet bells jangled out of tune, and harsh."
"Time," he still thought, "time will clear my fame, and do me justice;
and in the mean while, doubtless, I shall die condemned. Still, it is
hard enough to feel that one is innocent, and yet to bear the shame
and the punishment of the guilty. I wish to Heaven I could speak with
Blanche!" Approaching the door, he knocked somewhat sharply,
exclaiming, "Mr. Thomson, I much wish that I could speak with my
sister for a few minutes! Can you not grant me such a liberty!"
"Quite impossible, captain!" replied the chief constable. "I wish to
Heaven I dared! I am sure you know that I would do any thing I could
to help you. But this, you see, is no ordinary job; and though I know
well enough you are innocent, yet that fellow, Tims, threatened us so,
we dare not for our lives."
"Well, I can not help it then!" answered the prisoner, with a sigh.
"Do you know whether the coroner is arrived yet!"
"Not yet, sir!" answered the constable, still speaking through the
door. "The jury is summoned for five o'clock, I hear."
Captain Delaware looked at his watch. It was just three; and for the
long hours that succeeded, he continued in the same frame of mind,
torturing himself with all those dreamy miseries that an imaginative
and impatient heart calls up constantly to aggravate all the ills of
misfortune or disappointment. There is no such terrible tamer of the
spirit as solitary confinement; and, ere nightfall, the whole hopes
and expectations of William Delaware were completely sunk, and the
state of his mind was pure despair.
His dinner, which had been brought in by one of the constables at
five, remained untouched; and he listened to every sound, expecting
each moment to be called before the coroner; but no summons came. At
length, just as night was approaching, he heard a considerable sound
of voices in the ante-room; and, starting up, he prepared to go along
with the messenger, who, he doubted not, had been dispatched for him;
but the sound subsided, and, in a minute after, the constable again
entered the room.
"You had better take something, really, captain," said the man,
kindly, eyeing the untasted dinner. "There is no use, you know, sir,
of letting your heart get down that way."
"I have been expecting to be sent for, every minute," replied the
prisoner; "and I can not eat in such a state of anxiety."
"You will not be sent for to-night, captain," replied the constable.
"Has the coroner sat, then?" demanded Captain Delaware.
"Ay, sir!" was the answer.
"And what is the verdict!" cried the accused, fixing his eyes eagerly
upon the officer's face.
"Willful murder, sir!" answered the constable, shaking his head.
"Against me?" exclaimed the prisoner.
"Even so!" replied the officer, sadly. "Even so!"
Captain Delaware fell back into his chair, and clasped his hands over
his eyes, while the man went on trying to comfort him.
"That is nothing, you know, sir--nothing at all!" he said. "You have
had no time, you know, to prove your innocence--you have had no trial
yet. Lord bless you, sir, nobody in the town believes you guilty! They
all know you too well--and, when it comes to the trial, all will go
right, depend upon it. Even the coroner, they tell me, said the case
was so doubtful it one, that he would not have you removed to-night.
But you had better take something, really."
Captain Delaware signified that it was impossible; and the man,
telling him that he would bring him a light in a short time, left him
to himself. His thoughts and feelings may perhaps be conceived, but
can not be written. Had there lingered a ray of hope in his mind
before this announcement reached him, it would now have vanished; but,
amidst the agonized feelings which possessed him, if there was one
sensation more painful than the rest, it was produced by the
thought, that on the morrow he was to be hurried away to the common
jail--there, beyond doubt, as he now thought, to await an unjust
sentence, and an ignominious death. His ideas were still in the same
state of confused bewilderment, when the constable returned with a
light, and, setting it down on the table, he said--
"Captain! there's your good old housekeeper, Mrs. Williams, takes on
terribly because you will not eat; and she's so pressing to speak with
you through the door, to see if she can not get you to take something,
that I have promised her she shall, while the other officer is down at
his supper. So, do take something, if it be but to please the old
lady!"
"Well, well, I will speak to her when she comes!" answered Captain
Delaware, in the same desponding tone; and Mr. Thomson withdrew.
In about five minutes after, he heard the step of the other constable
depart, and ere long there was a gentle tap at his door.
"Come in!" was the first reply; but instantly remembering his
situation, he approached the door, and demanded, "Who is there!"
"It is I, Master William!" answered the voice of the old housekeeper.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! to think of their accusing you of killing a
man--you that were always as gentle as a lamb!"
"Do not speak so loud, Mrs. Williams," said the voice of the friendly
constable. "I do not want the other man to hear you. He is a stranger
in the place, and of course can not feel for the old family as I can."
"Well, well, Mr. Thomson," answered the old lady, "I will speak low.
You see that he does not come up-stairs. Oh, dear, Master William!"
she proceeded; "good Mr. Thomson here, says you eat nothing at all.
Pray, do eat something."
"I can not, indeed, Mrs. Williams," replied the prisoner; "but I shall
be better to-morrow, and then I will. It is the first shock, you know,
that is the worst. It will wear off in a day or two."
As he spoke, there was a slight noise, as of the key turning round in
the lock, which was instantly caught by the quick ears of the
constable. "You must not try to go in now, Mrs. Williams," he said;
"it is against my strict orders."
"I am not trying to go in," she replied, somewhat crossly. "You would
soon pull me out again, if I did. It was only my cap caught against
the key, as I was just stooping down to ask if he would have the soup.
Master William," she continued, again addressing the prisoner, "are
you there?--for I must not speak loud, he says. I have such a nice
basin of soup for you, if I could but get you to _take it_."
William Delaware remarked again a slight noise at the keyhole, and
thought that the good old lady laid a peculiar emphasis on the words
"_take it!_" He replied, however, "Indeed, Mary, I can not take any
thing to-night."
"Pray, do!" she said: "Pray, do! It is the best thing for you, by far.
Will you really not take it, Master William?"
As she spoke, he perceived the end of a small piece of paper protruded
gradually through the keyhole; and it became evident, that the good
old housekeeper, standing between the officer and the door, had
contrived, without being detected, to insinuate through the aperture
some written information from Captain Delaware's family. The prisoner
instantly took a step forward, and, laying hold of the little roll,
drew it completely through, saying aloud, "Well, well! I will take it,
then."
"Ah, that is right!" cried the voice of the good old lady, joyfully.
"There is a good boy!--do always what you are bid! I will send the
soup up as soon as ever it is warm!"
"Do so, and thank you!" replied the prisoner. "Tell Blanche and my
father," he added, "that, as I am innocent, I doubt not my innocence
will soon appear; and bid them be of good heart."
The old lady bade God bless him, and went away; and as soon as he had
heard the constable seat himself again in the ante-room, he opened the
paper he had received, and read the contents.
It began in the handwriting of the old housekeeper, and had probably
been written, in the first instance, without consultation with any one
else; but below there appeared a few lines from his father, which had
evidently been added afterward.
It began:--"Master William, do get away as fast as you can. Don't
stop, for God's sake, to let those wicked people have their will.
Remember the trap-door under your bed, where you used to play at
hide-and-seek when you were little. Master ordered it to be fastened
up long ago; but I had only one nail put in, for what was the use, you
know. You can easy get the nail out, I am sure; and there shall be a
horse waiting for you at the back park-gate at twelve o'clock
to-night, and money and all to take you to foreign parts, till the
conspiracy Miss Blanche says is against you, can be proved upon them.
So, do now, for the love of Heaven!"
Beneath this epistle, his father had written, in a hasty and tremulous
hand:--"I sincerely think the above is the best plan you can follow.
There is evidently a conspiracy against us; and, as you have been
selected for the victim, it is better for you to make your escape
while you can, than remain, and risk all that malice, wealth, art, and
villainy can do against you. Take the road to ----, where there are
always foreign vessels lying. Write to us when you are safe, under
cover to Mr.----, the trustee of your poor mother's little property.
Fare-you-well, my dear boy, and God bless you.
"S. D."
A new struggle now arose in the breast of the prisoner. The idea of
flight had never suggested itself to his mind before; and, though he
had in truth lost all hope that his own innocence would prove his
safety in the present instance, still the thought of giving additional
weight to the charge against himself, by absconding, was painful. Yet
his father advised it; and it was more than probable that Sir Sidney
had better means of knowing the peculiar dangers of his situation than
he had himself. Aware of his own innocence, he felt no doubt that,
sooner or later, he should be able to establish it beyond all
question, if time were but allowed him. All he had to fear was, that
by the rapidity with which such transactions are sometimes carried
through, he might be condemned, and even executed, before some of
those circumstances which time is sure eventually to disclose, could
be discovered to prove him guiltless, and to fix their villainy upon
his accusers.
It is wonderful how well the human mind reasons upon its own side of
the question, when on the one hand is the prospect of an ignominious
death, with but the remote hope of our innocence working a miracle in
our favor, and, on the other, are presented the ready means of escape.
Every one knows too well, that the law is not one of those lions that
invariably lie down at the feet of virtue; and that, had poor Una,
with such suspicions against her, met in the desert a law lion instead
of a real one, the beast would infallibly have torn her in pieces. All
this Captain Delaware knew. He had lost hope that his innocence would
serve him; he was strongly urged by those who had the best opportunity
of judging of his real situation; the means of escape were at hand,
and he determined to make use of them.
Although he had been treated hitherto with great lenity, he knew not
how soon an order for searching him might come, and therefore he took
means immediately to destroy the paper he had received. This was
scarcely accomplished when the constable again appeared with the soup,
and, as the door opened and shut, he saw lying on the floor of the
ante-room a set of fetters. They were evidently not intended to be put
upon his limbs that night, as the officer made no allusion to them;
but, had his intention of escaping even wavered, the sight of those
badges of ignominy would have determined him from that moment.
"I shall leave you the candle, captain," said the man, "though I
believe it is out of rule; and I have a notion that, all things
considered, one of us ought to sleep in the room with you; but, as
that would not be agreeable to you, I'm sure, we must get the old
housekeeper to make us a shake-down in the outer-room."
"I shall not forget your civility, Thomson," said Captain Delaware;
"and, as you are quite sure that it is not in my nature to commit such
a crime as that with which these fellows charge me, so you may be sure
I shall some time have the means of thanking you better, when I have
proved my innocence."
"I trust you may, captain--I am sure you may," replied the man,
heartily; and, wishing him good-night, he left him.
His resolution being now taken, the means of putting it into execution
became the next question. He looked round the room, and examined
carefully every closet and drawer, in the hopes of finding some
implement wherewith to extract the nail that fastened the trap-door to
which the letter referred, and which he well remembered having passed
through as a boy, a thousand times ere he went to sea. But his room
had been thoroughly searched before he had been confined in it, and
neither knife, nor gunscrew, nor tool of any kind, was to be found.
"Perhaps I can get it out with my hands," he thought; and, kneeling by
his bed, he soon discovered the three boards in the dark oak flooring,
that were contrived to play upon a hinge, and thus formed a trap-door.
It was close by the bedside, and, opening back against the edge of the
bedstead, would have given him exit at once, if he could have found
any thing with which to extract the nail, or rather nails; for,
notwithstanding Mrs. Williams's assertion, there was apparently one in
each of the boards. He gazed upon them for a moment in silence,
thinking over every article of furniture that the room contained, in
the hope of turning some one to the use he desired--but it was in
vain; and at length, taking a dollar from his purse, he slipped it
partly between the boards, merely to see whether they were or were not
strongly fastened down.
To his great surprise, they moved up easily by the effort he made, as
far as the crown-piece could be brought to act as a lever. He
immediately applied his hand to keep them in that position, and then,
slipping the silver a little farther down, raised them still higher.
Another effort enabled him to interpose his fingers between the
trap-door and the flooring; and it became evident at once, on a
closer examination, that the single nail which had in reality fastened
it down, had been lately pushed out--in all probability from below.
The hole, which it had left in the beam, was still fresh; and Captain
Delaware now perceived that what he had taken for two other nails,
were, in fact, merely nail-heads, driven in to make the several boards
resemble each other. Gently replacing the trap-door, he returned to the
table, and sat down to indite a clear statement of the reasons which
induced him to effect his escape without awaiting the event of his
trial. Into this he wove the notes he had before written concerning
the previous conduct of his accuser, and he boldly declared that he
looked upon Lord Ashborough as the instigator, and the lawyer as the
agent, in a premeditated scheme to destroy his family. To bear upon
this point, he brought all the circumstances within his knowledge, and
all the arguments he could make use of; and, after vowing his
conviction that nothing but time would establish his innocence, he
folded the paper, and addressed it to Dr. Wilton and Mr. Egerton.
Before this was concluded, it was near eleven o'clock, and the only
light that was allowed him was beginning to burn low. In order,
therefore, to take advantage of it while it lasted, he approached the
trap, and was about to raise it, when it suddenly occurred to him
that, in the letter he had just written, it might seem that he had
shifted his ground of defense, since he had avowed in the morning that
he believed Henry Beauchamp to have placed the money in his chamber;
and, turning back to the table, he sat down to explain that
circumstance, and to desire that Beauchamp might be called upon to
state whether he had done so or not. Luckily, as it happened, he did
so; for the moment after, with scarcely any noise, the door of his
room opened, and the head of the other constable, who was a stranger
in the town, appeared, looking in as if from some excited suspicion.
"Oh, good night, captain," he said; "I did not know whether you were
asleep."
"Not yet," replied Captain Delaware, calmly; "but, as you are not
asleep either, I wish you would get me another light, and some
sealing-wax, as I want this letter to go early tomorrow to the
magistrates."
"It's no use, captain, I am afraid," replied the constable.
"Howsomdever, it shall go--but the boy as takes it must be paid, you
know."
"There is half a sovereign to pay him with," replied the prisoner;
"keep the rest for your own trouble, and get me another light and some
sealing-wax.
"Why, every one is a-bed but me, and I was just a-going," replied the
man. "But I will see." So saying, he departed, but returned in a few
minutes with another light, and a stick of sealing wax; and finding
the prisoner still writing, he left him, telling him that he was just
going to bed, but if he would push the letter under the door, it
should be sent the first thing next morning.
Captain Delaware gladly saw him depart, and ere he had concluded, and
sealed his letter, heard unequivocal signs of one at least of his
jailors having fallen into a sound sleep. He listened anxiously, again
and again, but all was silent in the house, except the dull, hard
breathing of the constables, in the ante-room. It was now half-past
eleven, and the hour at which the horse was to be at the back
park-gate was so near, that it became necessary to execute his design
with promptitude; yet there was something painful in it all together,
which made him linger a moment or two in his father's house, calling
up its host of memories, and evoking from the dim night of time the
sweet and mournful spirit of the past.
He felt, however, that it was all in vain--that such thoughts but
served to weaken him; and taking up the light, he approached his
bedside, and once more raised the trap-door. The little ladder stood
ready just as it used to stand in the days of his childhood, and
descending slowly, step by step, holding the light in one hand, and
supporting the trap-door in the other, he reached the last step but
two or three, and then suffered the door to close over his head, The
narrow cavity in which he now was, filled the center of one of those
internal buttresses, if I may use the term, into the masonry of which
one of the back staircases of the old mansion was joisted. It was
about six feet square in the inside, and at the first floor beneath
his own, afforded a sort of landing-place, on which the ladder rested.
Thence, again, a more solid stair of stone wound down to a sort of
vault under the terrace, in which was placed the great draw-well that
supplied the house with the water principally used by the family.
When the trap-door was closed, William Delaware, who was descending
backward, turned to look how many steps intervened between his feet
and the ground, when, to his surprise, he found that the last step but
one of the ladder, old and rotted by the damp, was broken through the
middle, and offered, in the fresh yellow surface of the fracture,
incontestable proofs that the way had been trod very lately by some
other foot than his own. Over the floor of the landing-place, too,
which that thriftless housewife, Neglect, had left covered with a
thick coat of dust, might be traced three distinct steps from the
mouth of the staircase; and the young fugitive at once saw that the
way which had served to introduce the money into his chamber was now
before him. That being the case, he felt that if his suspicions in
regard to Mr. Tims were true, the outlet might and would probably be
watched; and consequently, he determined to examine the whole ground
cautiously before he attempted to go out into the park.
Down the stairs, which were likewise covered with dust, he could trace
the same alternate step coming up and going down again, but no other
footmarks were to be seen, and it was evident that but one person had
passed that way for years. The doors, however, which at different
parts of the descent had been placed to guard that means of entrance,
were now wide open; and, descending to the vault or cellar in which
the well was placed, William Delaware put out the light behind a pile
of old bottles, that nearly covered the foot of the stairs, and then
cautiously approached the door, underneath which a narrow line of pale
moonlight was visible.
The door was sometimes padlocked, and it seemed so closely fastened,
that the young sailor's heart began to fail him as he approached; but
carelessness or the good old housekeeper had left no obstacles there;
and, as he drew it slowly toward him, it yielded to his hand without a
sound, exposing to his sight, once more, all the fine wild park
scenery at the back of the mansion, lighted up by as glorious a moon
as ever looked out through the blue sky upon the fair face of the
earth. For full five minutes he paused and turned his eyes in every
direction, but nothing was to be seen which could cause him the
slightest apprehension; and throwing the door wider open, he
considered which would be the nearest and best covered way toward the
gate at which the horse was to be stationed. At the western angle of
the park, a sweep of old trees came within a hundred yards of the
house, and thence a path wandered in among some large hawthorns and
two or three splendid larches, leading down toward the glen in which
the Prior's Well was situated. The gate which he wished to reach,
indeed, lay somewhat to the east; but in order to proceed straight
thither, he would have been obliged to cross a wide open piece of
grassy ground, on which the moon was shedding a light nearly as clear
as that of day, and which was commanded by every window in that side
of the building.
Gliding along, then, under the terrace, and bending--so that his head
might not appear above it, he reached the opposite angle of the
building, one of the old octagon towers of which threw out a long
shadow, that fell upon the nearest trees, and mingled with the
obscurity beneath them. Following this dark track, William Delaware
walked quickly on, gained the shelter of the wood, and then, threading
the well-known paths with a light step, reached the dim glen which he
had trod so lately with Burrel and his sister, and only paused, with
the burning thirst of intense agitation, beside the old fountain,
where, in the braggadocio spirit of a heart at ease, he had dared them
to drink the icy waters of indifference.
"I may drink now myself, indeed!" he thought, as he filled the iron
cup; but still he paused in raising it to his lips--gave his heart one
moment to dream--conjured up as idle a hope as ever crossed the mind
of man, and then tossed the cup back again into the well. And I should
like to know, if all the human race were brought, one by one, to the
side of a fountain of such virtues as that--without a mortal eye to
look on, and arm their vanity against their affections--if there would
be one being found in the world so hapless, so hopeless, so without
one sweet drop of feeling or of fancy, so destitute of life's ties and
the heart's yearnings, as to raise the chilly waters irrevocably to
their lips!