_Som._ O monstrous traitor!--I arrest thee, York,
Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown:
Obey, audacious traitor!
_Henry VI. Second Part._
On awaking the next morning, Bertram perceived by the strength of the
light now brightened by reflexion from the dazzling snow that the
morning was far advanced; and, rising hastily from his bed of heath and
fern, he was somewhat startled to perceive a whole family of women and
children standing at a little distance and surveying him with looks of
anxious curiosity checked however and disturbed by something of fear
and suspicion. These feelings appeared a little to give way before the
interesting appearance of the youthful stranger: an expression of pity
arose for the distress which could have brought him into that
situation: and in a few words of Welsh, which were rendered
intelligible to Bertram by the courteous gestures which accompanied
them, he was invited into the house--and seated by a blazing fire of
peat and wood. With the cheerful hospitality of mountaineers, his fair
hostesses proceeded to prepare breakfast for him; and Bertram had no
reason to complain of any coldness or remissness in their attentions.
Yet, in the midst of all their kindness, he could not but discover an
air of lurking distrust which somewhat embarrassed him. At first he had
accounted for this upon the natural shock which it must have given to a
few women to find an unknown intruder upon their premises dressed in a
foreign style, and occupying so very unusual a situation amongst their
sheep. And this interpretation appeared the more reasonable--as he now
became aware that the women and children were left almost to their own
protection; for the house was in a lonely situation; and all the men of
the family were abroad, except an imbecile grey-beard whom one of the
young women addressed as her grandfather. All fears however, Bertram
flattered himself, should have been dispersed immediately by his
appearance and the gentleness of his demeanour: much therefore it
perplexed him to observe after the lapse of some time that the shyness
and something like displeasure, which had at first clouded the faces of
his fair friends, seemed in no degree to give way before his amiable
looks and manners. The children in particular, he remarked, regarded
him with eyes of dislike, and rejected all his advances. Happening to
follow them to the door for a moment, he there observed what threw some
light upon the case: the children were mourning over the body of a dog
which lay dead in the corner of a little garden: and, from the angry
glances which they directed at himself, he no longer doubted that they
regarded him as the destroyer of their favourite. To a young man of
sensibility and amiable disposition, and chiefly in search of the
picturesque, it was peculiarly unpleasant to find himself the object of
such a suspicion. To lie under the reproach of an act, which, unless it
were a necessary act, was a very savage and brutal one,--must naturally
be painful under any circumstances; much more so at a time when he was
indebted to the goodness of the family, whom he was supposed to have
thus wantonly injured, for the most hospitable attentions. At this
moment a sudden recollection darted into his mind of his nocturnal
companion in the barn, to whom he doubted not the death of the dog was
to be attributed. Unable however from his ignorance of the Welsh
language to explain this circumstance, or to make his own vindication,
he prepared to liberate himself from the uneasy and humiliating
situation, in which he now found himself placed, by taking his leave as
soon as possible.
At this moment an ill-looking fellow, who seemed to have some
acquaintance with the family, entered the cottage: he fixed his eyes
keenly upon Bertram; and, when the latter rose to depart, offered
himself as a guide to Machynleth. Bertram had noticed his scrutiny with
some uneasiness and displeasure; but having no ready excuse for
declining his offers, nor indeed seeing any use in doing so, he said
that he would be glad to avail himself of his services; took his hat;
and, bowing to the family with as much composure and as obliging an air
as his embarrassing feelings would allow, moved towards the door. On
this there was a general murmur amongst the women; and a sudden stir as
if from some wish to detain him. Their looks meantime expressed
compassion: and Bertram discovered no signs of any hostile intention:
yet, as he was unable to imagine any reason advantageous to himself
which they could have for detaining him, he persisted in departing.
The day was beautiful; but the roads were heavy and toilsome to the
foot-passenger; for the snow lay deep; and frost had succeeded just
sufficient to glaze the surface into a crispness which retarded without
absolutely resisting the pressure of the foot. Their progress was
therefore slow: but they had floundered on between two and three miles:
and as yet Bertram had found no cause for openly expressing his
dissatisfaction with his guide. The manners and deportment of the man
were indeed unpleasant: his head he carried in a drooping posture;
never looked directly in Bertram's face; and now and then eyed him
askance. Occasionally he fell behind a little; and once, upon turning
suddenly round, Bertram detected him in the act of applying a measure
to his footsteps. These were alarming circumstances in his behaviour:
but otherwise he was civil and communicative in his replies; and showed
a good deal of intelligence in his account of the different objects on
the road about which Bertram inquired. All at once however he was
missing; and, looking round, Bertram perceived him, at the top of a
slight eminence a little to the left of the road, waving his
handkerchief and whistling a loud summons to some person or party in
the neighbourhood.
"Ah rascal!" cried Bertram: but before he could complete the sentence,
his attention was drawn off to a party of horsemen who now wheeled into
sight and rapidly extended their line--man[oe]uvring their horses with
the evident purpose of intercepting him, if he should attempt to
escape. This however, if it had been feasible, was no part of his
intention: judging from their appearance that they were police
officers, he advanced to meet them with a firm step--calling out at the
same time--
"Take notice, I surrender myself voluntarily: the magistrates, I have
no doubt, will consider my explanations satisfactory: and all I have to
regret is---that any body should have been wounded in an affair
connected in any way with myself."
This he said on observing, in the person of one who rode foremost, the
"virtuous" Mr. Sampson carrying his arm in a sling. Mr. Sampson however
replied to this indirect expression of condolence by a sceptical and
somewhat satirical grin:
"Do but hearken to him," said he to the other constables: "hearken to
this pious youth: we, that are honest men now, are not so religious by
one half. And he can satisfy the magistrates? Aye, no doubt: but first
he must hang a little; hang a little,--do you hear, Sir? But pray,
Kilmary, how came you to let him move off till we got up?"
"He wouldn't stay," said Kilmary, in whom Bertram now recognised his
guide: "nothing would content him but off he must bolt: and the
farmer's people would not help me to keep him. Nay, I believe they
would have hid him, or let him out at the back door, if he hadn't
killed their old dog last night. I palavered to them about the laws,
and justice, and what not: but they wouldn't stand it."
"Faith and I can't blame them," said Sampson: "it's no joke for a
lonesome family on a heath side to make an enemy of such a pious youth
as our friend here."
"Well, bind him fast and keep him better than you did the last time:
for I shall hardly catch him for you a third time. It was no such easy
matter to track him, I'll assure you; his footmarks were half snowed
up."
"Aye, Kilmary, thou art a good hound for running down a fox. To give
thee no more than thy due, thou art a hound in every thing; a perfect
hound."
"But no hound that will fetch and carry for others, Mr. Sampson: if I'm
always to be the hound to hunt the fox home, I'll have my right share
of the reward."
"You shall, Kilmary: and what's that? What's a hound's share? A bone or
so when his master has dined: isn't it, Kilmary? eh, my boy?"
Kilmary muttered a few inarticulate words; and slunk behind. Meantime
the constables dismounted; and, having handcuffed Bertram, passed a
cord round his body, the two extremities of which were carried in the
hands of Sampson and another, who remounted their horses and led him
after them in this felonious style.
Fortunately for Bertram's comfort, Sampson's wound obliged him to ride
slowly: notwithstanding which he was heartily thankful when, after
advancing for some hours, they came within view of the church towers at
Machynleth, distant about three miles--and found Alderman Gravesand
with a barouche-and-four waiting for them at the top of the hill.
Bertram was placed in the carriage; and Sampson took his seat by his
side; Kilmary mounting Sampson's horse. By this time it was four
o'clock; and Alderman Gravesand directed the whole party to push
forward at their utmost speed; "it was his intention to carry the
prisoner to Walladmor Castle nearly thirty miles distant; and he wished
to be through Machynleth before the light failed."
"Would his worship then go through the town?" asked Sampson: "might it
not be better to send forward with orders for horses to meet them in
the outskirts, and avoid the town by making a little circuit?"
"No:" this proposal the Alderman rejected, as he would have done any
other which looked like a compromise of the magisterial dignity or a
concession to the popular spirit. Mr. Gravesand was a man who doated on
what he called energy and vigour; others called it tyranny and the
spirit of domineering. Of Lord Chesterfield's golden maxim--_Suaviter
in modo, fortiter in re_--he attended so earnestly to the latter half
that he generally forgot the former. And upon the present occasion he
was resolved to parade his contempt for "the jacobinical populace" of
Machynleth by carrying his prisoner boldly through the midst of them.
The fact is--that the populace of Machynleth were not Jacobinical, nor
ever showed any disposition to insubordination unless in behalf of
smuggling (which on this coast was a matter of deep interest to the
poor man's comforts), or in cases where Alderman Gravesand was
concerned. The Lord Lieutenant, whom they loved and reverenced, could
at all times calm them by a word; and any inferior magistrate, who
would take the least pains to cultivate their good will, was sure of
finding them in all ordinary cases reasonable and accessible to
persuasion. But for Alderman Gravesand,--who had never missed an
opportunity of expressing his hatred and affected contempt for them,
they were determined on showing him that there was no love lost between
them: right or wrong, in every case they gave him as much trouble as
they possibly could. And in the present case, which was supposed to be
an arrest for some participation in the smuggler's affair of the
funeral, they had one motive more than was needed to sharpen the spirit
of resistance to the worshipful gentleman.