DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN
That grand review at Shotbury was declared by all who took part in it,
or at all understood the subject, to have been a most remarkable and
quite unparalleled success. Not only did it show what noble stuff there
is in Englishmen, and how naturally they take to arms, but also it
inspired with martial feeling and happy faith the wives and mothers of
all the gallant warriors there. It would make the blood-stained despot
cower upon his throne of murder, and teach him the madness of invading
any land so fortified.
However, Napoleon failed to see the matter in that wholesome light, and
smiled a grim and unkind smile as he read Caryl Carne's report of those
“left-handed and uncouth manoeuvres.” “One of your Majesty's feeblest
regiments would send the whole of those louts to the devil; and I
am bound to impress once more, with all deference to your infallible
judgment, the vast importance of carrying out your grand designs at
the first moment. All is prepared on my part. One day's notice is all I
need.”
So wrote Carne; and perhaps the truth, as usual, lay about half-way
between the two opinions. Even Carne was not admitted to a perfect
knowledge of his master's schemes. But to keep things moving and men
alert, the Emperor came to the coast at once, busy as he was in Paris,
and occupied for several weeks, with short intervals of absence, the
house prepared for him near Boulogne, whence he watched and quickened
the ripening of his mighty plans against us.
Now Carne himself, while working with new vigour and fresh enterprise,
had a narrow escape from invasion. Captain Stubbard, stirred up now and
again by Mr. Twemlow, had thoroughly searched all covered places, likely
to harbour gunpowder, within at least six miles of his fort, that is to
say, all likely places, save and except the right one. By doing this
he had done for himself--as regards sweet hospitality--among all the
leading farmers, maltsters, tanners, and millers for miles around. Even
those whose premises were not entered, as if they had been Frenchmen,
had a brother-in-law, or at least a cousin, whose wooden bars had been
knocked up. And the most atrocious thing of all, if there could be
anything worse than worst, was that the Captain dined one day, at a
market-ordinary, with Farmer, or you might say Squire Hanger--for the
best part of his land followed to him from his father--and had rum and
water with him, and spoke his health, and tucked Mrs. Hanger up into the
shay, and rode alongside to guarantee them; and then the next day, on
the very same horse, up he comes at Hanger-dene, and overhauls every tub
on the premises, with a parchment as big as a malt-shovel! Such a man
was not fit to lay a knife and fork by.
Some sense of the harm he had done to himself, without a bit of good to
any one, dwelt heavily in the Captain's mind, as he rode up slowly upon
the most amiable of the battery-horses--for all sailors can ride, from
long practice on the waves--and struck a stern stroke, with a stick like
a linstock, upon the old shutter that served for a door and the
front entrance to Carne Castle. There used to be a fine old piece
of workmanship in solid and bold oak here, a door divided in the
middle--else no man might swing it back--and even so pierced with a
wicket, for small people to get through. That mighty door was not worn
out, for it was not three hundred years old yet, and therefore scarcely
in middle life; but the mortgagees who had sacked the place of all that
was worth a sack to hold it, these had a very fine offer for that door,
from a rich man come out of a dust-bin. And this was one of the many
little things that made Caryl Carne unpleasant.
“I do not require production of your warrant. The whole place is open to
your inspection,” said Carne, who had long been prepared for this visit;
“open to all the winds and rains, and the lower part sometimes filled
with water. The upper rooms, or rather the few that remain of them, are
scarcely safe for a person of any weight to walk in, but you are most
welcome to try them, if you like; and this gentleman, I think, might not
fall through. Here are my quarters; not quite so snug as my little room
at the widow's; but I can offer you some bread and cheese, and a glass
of country cider. The vaults or cellars have held good wine in their
time, but only empty casks and broken bottles now.”
Captain Stubbard had known for many years the silent woes of poverty,
and now he observed with some good-will the young man's sad but haughty
smile. Then he ordered his young subaltern, his battery-mate, as he
called him, to ascend the broad crumbling staircase, and glance into the
dismantled chambers, while himself with the third of the party--a trusty
old gunner--should inspect the cellarage.
“We will not keep you long, sir,” he said to Carne; “and if you are kind
enough to show us the way, which is easily lost in a place of this kind,
we shall be all the quicker. Wilkins, when you have done up there, wait
here for us. Shall we want a light, sir?”
“In the winter, you could hardly do without one, but at this time of
year, I think you may. At any rate I will bring a lantern, and we can
light it if wanted. But the truth is that I know next to nothing of
those sepulchral places. They would not be very tempting, even without a
ghost, which they are said to have.”
“A ghost!” cried the Captain; “I don't like that. Not that I have much
faith in them; although one never can be sure. But at this time of
day--What is it like?”
“I have never seen her, and am quite content without it. It is said to
be an ancestress of mine, a Lady Cordelia Carne, who was murdered, when
her husband was away, and buried down there, after being thrown into the
moat. The old people say that whenever her ghost is walking, the water
of the moat bursts in and covers the floor of the vaults, that she may
flit along it, as she used to do. But of course one must not listen to
that sort of fable.”
“Perhaps you will go in front, sir, because you know the way. It is my
duty to inspect these places; and I am devilish sorry for it; but my
duty must be done.”
“You shall see every hole and corner, including the stone that was put
up to commemorate her murder and keep her quiet. But I should explain
that these vaults extend for the entire length of the building, except
just in the middle, where we now stand. For a few yards the centre of
the building seems to have never been excavated, as to which you will
convince yourself. You may call the cellars east and west, or right and
left, or north and south, or uphill and downhill, or anything else, for
really they are so much alike, and partitioned into cells so much alike,
that I scarcely know which is which myself, coming suddenly from the
daylight. But you understand those things much better. A sailor always
knows his bearings. This leads to the entrance of one set.”
Carne led the Captain and old Gunner Bob--as he was called in the
battery--along a dark and narrow passage, whose mouth was browed with
ivy. Half-way through, they found an archway on the right-hand side,
opening at right angles into long and badly lighted vaults. In this arch
there was no door; but a black step-ladder (made of oak, no doubt), very
steep and rather rickety, was planted to tempt any venturesome foot.
“Are you sure this ladder is safe?”--the Captain was by no means in love
with the look of it. “My weight has increased remarkably in the fine air
of Springhaven. If the bottom is rotten, the top won't help us.”
“Let me go first. It is my duty, as the owner; and I have no family
dependent on me. My neck is of no value, compared to yours, Captain.”
“How I have mistaken this young man!” thought the brave yet prudent
Stubbard. “I called him a Frenchified fool, whereas he is a downright
Englishman! I shall ask him to dinner next week, if Jemima can get a new
leg for the dripping-pan.”
Following warily, with Gunner Bob behind him, and not disdaining the
strong arm of the owner, the Captain of Foxhill was landed in the vault,
and being there, made a strict examination. He even poked his short
sword into the bung-holes of three or four empty barrels, that Bob might
be satisfied also in his conscience. “Matter of form,” he said, “matter
of form, sir, when we know who people are; but you might have to do it
yourself, sir, if you were in the service of your King. You ought to be
that, Mr. Carne; and it is not too late, in such days as these are, to
begin. Take my advice--such a fine young man!”
“Alas, my dear sir, I cannot afford it. What officer can live upon his
pay for a generation?”
“Gospel truth!” cried the Captain, warmly; “Gospel truth! and more than
that--he must be the last of his generation, or else send his young 'uns
to the workhouse. What things I could tell you, Mr. Carne! But here we
are at the end of the vaults; all empty, as I can certify; and I hope,
my dear sir, that you may live to see them filled with good wine, as
they used to be.”
“Thank you, but there is no hope of that. Shall we take the vaults
of the other end next, or examine the chapel, and the outer
buildings--outer ruins, I should say?”
“Oh, a little open air first, for goodness sake!” said the Captain,
going heavily up the old steps; “I am pretty nearly choked with all this
mildew. A little fresh air, before we undertake the other lot.”
As soon as the echo of their steps was dead, Charron, old Jerry, and
another man jumped down from a loop-hole into the vault they had left,
piled up a hoarding at the entrance, and with a crowbar swung back a
heavy oak hatch in the footings of the outer wall. A volume of water
poured in from the moat, or rather from the stream which had once
supplied it. Seeing this, they disappeared with a soft and pleasant
chuckle.
The owner kept Stubbard such a time among the ruins, telling him some
fine old legends, and otherwise leading him in and out, that when a bit
of food and a glass of old Cognac was proposed by way of interlude,
the Captain heartily embraced the offer. Then Carne conducted his three
visitors, for Wilkins had now rejoined them, into a low room poorly
furnished, and regaled them beyond his promise. “Rare stuff!” exclaimed
Stubbard, with a wink at Carne. “Ah, I see that free-trade still exists.
No concern of mine, except to enjoy its benefits. Here's to your very
good health, sir, and I am proud to have made your acquaintance.”
“Have another drop; it can hurt no one,” Carne declared, and the Captain
acquiesced.
“Well, I suppose we must finish our job,” the official visitor at length
pronounced; “a matter of form, sir, and no offence; but we are bound
to carry out our duty. There is nothing left, except the other lot of
vaults; but the light begins to fail us, for underground work. I hope
they are not so dark as those we have been through.”
“Just about the same. You would hardly know one set from the other, as
I told you, except for the stone that records the murder. Perhaps we had
better light the lantern now?”
“By all means. I don't half like that story of the lady that walks on
the water. It does seem so gashly and unchristian altogether. Not that I
have any fear of ghosts--not likely, for I have never even seen one.”
“I have,” said Gunner Bob, in a deep voice, which made them all glance
through the ivy. “I have, and a fearful one it were.”
“Don't be a fool, Bob,” the Captain whispered; “we don't want to hear
about that now. Allow me to carry the lantern, Mr. Carne; it throws such
shadows from the way you hold it. Why, surely, this is where we were
before!”
“You might easily fancy so,” Carne answered, smiling, “especially with a
mind at all excited--”
“My mind is not excited, sir; not at all excited; but as calm as it ever
was in all its life.”
“Then two things will show you that these are the other vaults. The arch
is on your left hand, instead of on your right”--he had brought them in
now from the other end of the passage--“and this entrance, as you see,
has a door in it, which the other had not. Perhaps the door is to keep
the ghost in”--his laugh sounded hollow, and like a mocking challenge
along the dark roof--“for this is the part she is supposed to walk in.
But so much for the door! The money-lenders have not left us a door that
will stand a good kick. You may find our old doors in Wardour Street.”
As he spoke, he set foot against the makeshift door, and away it went,
as he had predicted. Crashing on the steps as it fell, it turned over,
and a great splash arose at the bottom.
“Why, bless my heart, there is a flood of water there!” cried Stubbard,
peeping timidly down the steps, on which (if the light had been clear,
and that of his mind in the same condition) he might have seen the marks
of his own boots. “A flood of water, perhaps six feet deep! I could
scarcely have believed, but for that and the door, that these were not
the very vaults that we have examined. But what business has the water
there?”
“No business at all, any more than we have,” Carne answered, with some
rudeness, for it did not suit him to encourage too warmly the friendship
of Captain Stubbard; “but I told you that the place becomes covered with
water whenever the ghost intends to walk. Probably there is not more
than a foot of water”--there was in fact about three inches--“and as you
are bound to carry out your duty--”
“My dear sir, I am satisfied, perfectly satisfied. Who could keep
gunpowder under water, or even in a flooded cellar? I shall have the
greatest pleasure in reporting that I searched Carne Castle--not of
course suspiciously, but narrowly, as we are bound to do, in execution
of our warrant--”
“If you would not mind looking in this direction,” whispered Carne, who
could never be contented, “I think I could show you, just beyond the
murder-stone--yes, and it seems to be coming towards us, as white as a
winding-sheet; do come and look.”
“No, sir, no; it is not my duty”--the Captain turned away, with his hair
upon the rise. “I was sent here to look for saltpetre, not spectres. No
officer in His Majesty's service can be expected--Bob, and Wilkins, are
you there?”
“Yes, sir, yes--we have had quite enough of this; and unless you give
the orders--”
“Here she comes, I do declare!” whispered Carne, with extraordinary
calmness.
“Bob, and Wilkins, give me one arm each. Make for daylight in close
order. You may be glad to see your grandmother, young man; but I decline
to have anything to say to her. Bob, and Wilkins, bear a hand; I feel a
little shaky in my lower timbers. Run for your lives, but don't leave
me behind. Run, lads, like the very devil!” For a groan of sepulchral
depth, and big enough to lift a granite tombstone, issued from the
vault, and wailed along the sombre archway. All the Artillerymen fled,
as if the muzzle of their biggest gun was slewed upon them, and very
soon the sound of horses' heels, urged at a perilous pace down the hill,
rang back as the echo of that grand groan.
“I think I did that pretty well, my Captain,” cried Charron, ascending
from the vault with dripping boots; “I deserve a glass of Cognac, if
they have left me any. Happy is Stoobar that he was contented, without
breaking his neck at the inspector's step.”
“He has satisfied his conscience,” Carne answered, grimly; “yet it
cannot be blameless, to make him run so fast. I am glad we have been
saved from killing them. It would have been hard to know what to do
next. But he will never trouble us here again.”