"You must write immediately a few words, acquainting her with your
position. I will see the letter safely delivered before the week is
over."
"What good can she possibly do me?" replied I.
"I cannot say; but this I know, that if anything is to be done, it will
be. Write immediately."
The priest called the gaoler and requested writing materials, which were
brought, and in a few minutes I had done as he requested.
"There, Sir, I have written to please you; but I candidly state that I
consider it a useless attempt."
"Were I of your opinion, I should not have advised you to write,"
replied he. "There are wheels within wheels that you have no conception
of; in these troubled times. What I most fear is that it may arrive too
late."
The priest took his leave of me, and I was left to my own thoughts.
When I considered that the address of this lady had been given to me by
the very man whom they were so anxious to secure as a traitor, I at once
decided that no benefit could arrive from any interference on her part;
and I therefore, after a quarter of an hour, dismissed the whole subject
from my thoughts, and commenced my reading of the sacred writings. The
following morning, when the gaoler came in, I could not help observing
to him, that as I had been condemned so many days I felt much surprise
at the delay of my execution. His reply was, that he heard that others
were in custody upon the same charge, and that they waited for their
convictions, that we might all suffer at the same time; for the order
for my execution had come on the Friday last, but had been countermanded
on the afternoon of the same day. Although this satisfied me that I had
no hopes of escape, yet I was pleased that I had obtained more time for
preparation, and I renewed my reading with ardour. Another week passed,
when the gaoler, with a solemn face, and much apparent concern, came in,
and informed me that the other parties arrested had been tried before
the Commission, and had been condemned, and that it was expected that
the execution would take place either on the morrow or the day after.
The announcement did not affect me much. I had made up my mind that I
should suffer, and had to a degree weaned myself from life. I
considered how all hopes of my ever enjoying the delight of my family
and kindred ties had flown away, and I looked with disgust upon my
career as a privateersman--a career of recklessness and blood, so
denounced by the sacred writings which I had before me. I reflected,
that if I were to leave the prison I should have no other means of
sustenance, and should probably return to my former life, and load my
soul with a still heavier weight of crime; and, although I felt an
occasional bitter pang at the idea of leaving the world so young--a
world which I could not hate--still I was, after a few hours' communing
and reflection, resigned to my fate, and exclaimed with sincerity, "Thy
will be done." I think, Madam, you may have observed that, sinful as I
was, my whole career proved that I was not a hardened sinner. Good was
not driven entirely out of me, but was latent, notwithstanding all my
excesses, and the bad company which had influenced me.
I now prayed, and prayed earnestly, and I thought that my prayers were
heard. Such was my state of mind on the day before the one appointed
for my execution, when the gaoler and one of the sheriff's officers came
into my cell, accompanied by the Roman Catholic priest whom I have
before mentioned. I perceived by the countenance of the gaoler, who was
a humane man, that he had no unpleasant news. The sheriff's officer
delivered to him an order for my liberation, and to my astonishment I
was told by the gaoler that my pardon was signed, and that I was free.
I was stupified with the intelligence, and I stood without making any
reply. The priest waved his hand to them as a hint to leave the room,
which they both did. As they left, my eyes followed them, and then I
cast them down upon the Bible which lay before me on the table, and,
slipping down from the bench upon my knees, I covered up my face and
prayed. My prayers were confused--I hardly knew what I said--but I knew
that they were intended to be grateful to Heaven for my unexpected
preservation from an ignominious death. After a time, I rose up, and
perceived the priest, whose presence I had till then forgotten. He had
been kneeling at the other side of the table praying with me, and I am
sure for me--and he was rising up just after I had.
"I trust, Captain Elrington," said he, after a pause, "that the peril
you have been in will influence your future life; and that this severe
trial will not be thrown away upon you."
"I trust not, Sir," replied I. "I feel that it has been good for me to
have been afflicted, I believe that I have been indebted to your
exertions for my deliverance."
"No further than having seen your letter duly and speedily delivered. I
could do no more, for with all will I have no power; and that was little
to do for one who so generously assisted our friends in their distress."
"Am I then to believe that I am indebted to the interest of a French
lady, residing at the court of Versailles, for my deliverance?"
"Even so--this may appear strange to you, Captain Elrington, but such is
the case. Understand, that in these troubled times the ruling monarch
of this country cannot distinguish his friends from his enemies. He can
only trust to professions, and they are not always sincere. There are
many in the council at this time who, if the Pretender, as he is called,
had succeeded, would long before this have joined him, and who had
wished him success, although they dared not venture to assist him. The
interest of the lady in question with these people has prevailed over
the true adherents of the Hanoverian king, and thus through this lady
have you obtained your release. I state this to you in confidence; to
publish what I have told you would be to betray your friends. Can I be
of any further service to you? For you can leave your prison as soon as
you please."
"None, I thank you, good Sir," replied I; "I have money more than
sufficient to reward my gaoler, and to defray my expenses to Liverpool."
"You have my best thanks and sincere wishes for your happiness. Then I
will not intrude upon you any more, except to give you my address in
case of need. You have made warm friends by your conduct, and if ever
you require their assistance it will not be withheld."
The priest gave his address upon a piece of paper and then came to me.
"Our creeds are not exactly the same, but you will not, my son, refuse
my blessing?" said he, putting his hand upon my head.
"Oh, no," said I, dropping on my knees, "I receive it all in
thankfulness."
"May God bless you, my son," said he; with emotion--and he then quitted
the cell.
What with the previous excitement when my liberation was announced, and
the parting with the kind priest, my feelings were so powerful, that, as
soon as I was alone, I gave vent to them in a flood of tears. As soon
as I was more composed, I rose from the bench, put my necessaries into
my valise, and summoned the gaoler, to whom I made a handsome present,
thanking him for his kindness during my incarceration. I then shook
hands with him, feed the turnkey who had attended upon me, and in a
minute more I was clear of the Tower gates. How my heart heaved when I
was once more in the open air.
I looked around me, and perceived that many men were busy in erecting a
scaffolding. My heart sank as I beheld them, as I felt certain what it
was for; but, to verify my opinion, I turned to an old woman who had a
sort of stall from which she dispensed mead to the populace, and
inquired of her for what the scaffold was being erected.
"It's for the men who are to be executed to-morrow for aiding the
Jacobites to escape," said she. "Won't your worship take a glass of
mead this morning?"
"I am not thirsty," I replied, as I walked hastily away with my valise
upon my shoulders.
A stranger to this part of London, I hardly knew where to direct my
steps; I walked past the square before the Tower, until I came into a
street called Catherine Street, where a tavern met my view, and into it
I entered immediately,--glad, as it were, to hide myself; for I felt as
if all the world looked upon me as a person just discharged from prison.
I obtained good entertainment there, and slept there that night. The
next morning, the host having provided me two good horses, and a
youngster to take them back, I set off for Liverpool, and after five
days' travel without adventure I arrived at the town, and proceeded
direct to the house of Mr Trevannion, my owner. I took my valise off
the boy's horse, and having paid him for his attendance I knocked at the
door, for it was late in the evening, and dark, when I arrived. The
door (for it was at his private house door, which was next to the
counting-house door, that I knocked) was opened; and the woman who
opened it shrieked, and let drop the candle, exclaiming, "Help, O God--a
ghost, a ghost!" for it appeared that the news had arrived at Liverpool
from a messenger who had been sent express after I had been condemned,
stating that there was no hope, and that I was to suffer on the Monday
previous; and this was the Saturday evening on which I had arrived. Mr
Trevannion's clerk, hearing a noise in the passage, came out with
another candle, and, seeing me, and the woman lying on the floor in a
swoon, stared, staggered to the door of the room where his master was
sitting, and the door being ajar he fell back with great force into the
room, dropping under the table between Mr Trevannion and Captain Levee,
who was sitting with him, smoking, as was very often their wont. This
brought out Captain Levee with one of the table-candlesticks, who, upon
seeing me, ran to me, and embracing me warmly, cried out, as the clerk
made his escape--
"Here is Elrington alive and well, Sir!"
At this announcement Mr Trevannion came out, and threw himself into my
arms, saying--
"I thank God for all his mercies, but, above all, that I have not been
the cause of your death, my dear Elrington. Come in," he exclaimed, in
a faltering voice; and as soon as he gained his seat he laid his head
down and sobbed with excitement and joy.
I followed Captain Levee into the room, and was taking a chair, when I
perceived there was another person present besides Captain Levee and Mr
Trevannion, which was the daughter of the latter; that is, I presumed as
much, for I knew that he was a widower, and had one daughter living, out
of a family of three children. She appeared to be about seventeen years
of age, and had just come from a Protestant convent, as they called
establishments where young women were educated at Chester. Mr
Trevannion was still with his face covered, and not yet recovered from
his burst of feeling, when this young gentlewoman came up to me, and
said--
"Captain Elrington, you have behaved nobly to my father; accept my hand
and my friendship."
I was so dazzled from coming out of the dark, and so excited from what
had just passed, that I was almost bewildered; but I accepted the
offered hand, and bowed over it, although I declare that at the time I
could not distinguish her features, although I perceived that her person
was slight and elegant. As she retreated to her seat, Mr Trevannion,
who had recovered from his emotion, said--
"I thought that at this moment your head was exhibited over the gates of
Temple-bar. The idea, as Captain Levee will tell you, has haunted me;
for I felt, and should always have felt, that I was the cause of your
death. God bless you, my dear Sir, and may I have an opportunity of
showing you my gratitude and regard for your noble conduct towards me,
and the sacrifice which you would have made. You need not tell me, for
I know too well, that you took all the onus and blame of the affair upon
your own shoulders, and preferred death to impeaching me."
"My dear Elrington," said Captain Levee, "I told our crew, and you have
proved me a true prophet, that you never would peach, but die game. We
were talking of you, supposing you dead, when you came in. I must tell
you, that more than once Mr Trevannion had made up his mind to deliver
himself up, and acknowledge the truth, but I prevented him, as it would
have been a useless sacrifice."
"You did; but, nevertheless, it was so heavy on my conscience, that had
it not been for your perseverance, and the thoughts of leaving my poor
girl here an orphan in the world, I certainly should have so done, for I
felt life to be a burden."
"I am very glad that you did not, Sir," I replied; "my life is of little
value; I have no one to support, no one to love, and no one to lament me
if I fall. A shot from the enemy may soon send me out of the world, and
there will only be a man the less in it, as far as people are interested
about me."
"That is not the case now, at all events," replied Mr Trevannion; "but
pray tell us how it is that you have escaped."
"I have not escaped," I replied; "here is my pardon, with the
sign-manual."
"And how was it obtained?" exclaimed Captain Levee; "all intercession
made through some of the strongest friends of the government was in
vain,--that I can assert; for you must not suppose that we have been
idle down here. We did not leave London till after you were condemned,
and every entreaty to see you, or to communicate by letter, was denied
to us."
"I had better, then, begin at the beginning, and state all that
occurred. I will first thank you, my dear Levee, for your kind
assistance, which I would not avail myself of; as I calculated (wrongly,
I own) that it would be wiser to remain a prisoner; and I considered
that my very refusal to escape would be admitted by the government as a
proof of my innocence. I did not know that I had to deal with such
malignant people."
I then commenced my narrative, which occupied the remainder of the
evening, and, having received their congratulations, we had a pipe or
two, and, as I was fatigued, we retired to bed. I slept little on this,
I may say, first night of rest and quiet, after my liberation. I was
happy, and yet perplexed. During the time of my imprisonment, it had
occurred to me that the life of a privateersman was not one which I
could follow up with a good conscience; and I had, on my journey down to
Liverpool, made up my mind that I would give it up. I knew this might
annoy Mr Trevannion, and that I should have to meet with the ridicule
of Captain Levee, and I was thinking whether it were possible, in the
first place, that I could give some well-grounded excuse; and, in the
next, what other means of gaining my livelihood I could substitute in
its stead. My restlessness induced me to get up earlier than usual, and
I went out for an hour's walk upon the wharfs. I saw my little schooner
riding on the stream, and, as she gently rose and dipped to the swell
which ran in with the tide, she looked so beautiful that my resolutions
were already giving way. I would look at her no longer; so I turned
from the river, and walked back to the owner's house. It was still
early when I went into the eating-hall, where I found Miss Trevannion
alone.