The sun had risen high, the day was bright and beautiful; the green
sea was just curled by a light breeze, and the schooner (of which by
the way, Captain Longly was undoubtedly a principal owner) skimmed
quickly but easily over the waters. Having no nautical knowledge, we
shall leave all the particulars of the sailing of the ship to the
imagination of our readers, which, in all probability, will do much
more for it than anything that we could do, and confine our attention
solely to the persons in whose fate we have already endeavoured to
interest the world.
Charles Tyrrell and Lucy had been received by the master of the
schooner with every sort of bluff attention and respect. A high price
had been agreed upon for their passage--a strong recommendation had
come from the much reverenced Captain Longly, and Lucy and her lover
now sat together near the side of the vessel, while the maid down
stairs, with a predetermination of being sick, was indulging her fancy
in that respect, and good John Hailes walked up and down the deck as a
passenger, and for the first time in his life, perhaps, turned his
eyes to the receding shores of his native land with grief, regret, and
hopelessness.
When they had thus gone on some way, and their escape seemed perfectly
certain, Charles Tyrrell beckoned Hailes toward him, and spoke to him
for a moment in a low voice. The man replied aloud:--
"Oh! yes, yes, sir, certainly. God bless you, sir, we are too grateful
to you a great deal, for having hidden the matter for such a time, at
the risk of your own life, to wish you to hide it any longer. Both I
and Captain Longly told Master Morrison to say, you might do just as
you pleased, but I'm sure my young lady here ought to know. I wonder
you did not tell her before."
"I had taken the resolution," replied Charles Tyrrell, "not to tell
anybody one word till either I was out of England, or you and Longly
were. But, however, I may tell her now without any breach of
confidence."
He then resumed his seat by Lucy Effingham, and told her for the first
time the history of his adventures on that day, when, after a violent
dispute with his father, he left Sir Francis in the library and
hurried away into the park, as we have before shown.
The tale is not very long, but it required various other little
incidents to be mingled with it, and we shall not relate it therefore
exactly in Charles Tyrrell's own words, but endeavour to abbreviate it
as much as possible.
While lying ill at the cottage of Hailes, the fisherman, Charles
Tyrrell had been as kindly tended by Hannah Longly, as by any other of
the inhabitants of the fisherman's abode, and as he recovered, he
heard from Hailes himself a considerable part of her history, which he
instantly connected in his own mind with what the officer of the
revenue-cutter had told him concerning Lieutenant Hargrave's attempt
to carry her off. He found that she was, now an exile from the house
of her father, whose indignation at her having listened for a moment
to a spy, and an informer, as he termed young Hargrave, was so great,
that he vowed she should never enter his doors again. Nothing was said
respecting Everard Morrison; and Charles Tyrrell, believing that
although Hannah might possibly have acted rather imprudently, she was
not near so much to blame as to call upon her head so severe a
punishment, determined to do what he could to reconcile Longly to his
daughter, by telling him what he had heard of her conduct from the
officer of the revenue-cutter.
As soon as he was well enough to ride out, he visited Longly's house
several times, but found his undertaking much more difficult to
accomplish than he had anticipated. Sometimes Longly could not be
found, and at another time there was somebody else present; and even
when Charles, at length, had an opportunity of speaking with him in
private, he met with a far greater degree of stern and dogged
resistance in the old sailor than he had expected.
From him, however, he learned two things somewhat important in their
way--in the first place, that Lieutenant Hargrave had been hovering
around that neighbourhood ever since the duel; which fact confirmed
his suspicions, as to the quarter from whence his father, Sir Francis
Tyrrell, had derived intelligence of an event which was unknown in
Oxford; and in the second place, that on the very day previous to her
meeting with young Hargrave, Hannah had received and accepted a
proposal from his own friend Everard Morrison, with which her father
had been highly delighted.
Captain Longly, however, now swore that he would not let her marry an
honest man like Morrison, even if Everard himself were still inclined
to take her, and there were mingled with Longly's speeches, in regard
to him he called that Jackanapes Hargrave, dark hints of some purposes
of revenge upon him, which somewhat alarmed Charles Tyrrell.
To interfere between Everard and Hannah, was a thing that Charles
Tyrrell would never have dreamed of attempting, unless fully and
entirely convinced that she had not behaved ill. But still he laboured
hard to reconcile her to her father, feeling that the harshness of his
conduct was likely to drive her to evil by despair.
He seemed to make some impression upon Longly at length, and ere he
left him the day before the fatal catastrophe of the death of Sir
Francis Tyrrell, the old Captain shook him heartily by the hand, and
thanked him for what he had done.
"I'll tell you what, Mr. Tyrrell," he said, "I am going to send down
to John Hailes', at whose house the girl is this afternoon, and I'll
hear what Hailes says about the matter--so you see, I'm coming up
close to the park to-morrow, about a little business, and if you'll
meet me just at the park-stile, at half-past eleven o'clock,
exactly--I'll tell you the last word of my mind, as you take an
interest in the silly girl. Mind, don't be later than half-past
eleven, for I've got business to settle in a quarter of an hour or so
afterward, and must be off."
Charles Tyrrell promised; and as it struck him, that if Longly and his
daughter could once be brought to meet again, they might easily be
reconciled; he wrote a note to Hailes immediately, and sent it to his
cottage, telling him of his wishes; informing him that Longly had
promised to meet him at the park-stile, and begging him to bring
Hannah Longly there, in the hope of reconciling her to her father.
Two things, however, prevented Hailes from following his direction;
the first of which was, that Hailes himself could not read a word of
the letter, and was obliged to apply to Hannah to read it for him; and
she, terrified at her father's anger, refused to go without his
knowledge.
The second was, that Hailes, that night, had a conversation with
Longly himself, which precluded the possibility of his obeying. That
conversation, though we certainly cannot do full justice to it, we
shall attempt to give, at least in part, as it was somewhat curious
and characteristic.
"Well, old John Hailes," said Longly, as soon as the other entered his
abode, "I want you to lend a hand in a matter, to-morrow, that,
mayhap, you never meddled with before in your life."
"What is it, Captain?" demanded Hailes; "anything that I can do to
serve you, I'm sure I will, with all my heart and soul."
"Why, the matter is this, Hailes," said Longly, "I'll not live a
minute longer than I can help, without having my revenge on that
fellow Hargrave; and I'm resolved to have satisfaction like a
gentleman. Why shouldn't I, as well as another, though I fought my own
ship and he fought the king's, and d----d badly too, if all stories
were true. However, I know well enough, that if I were to sit down,
like another, and write him a note, saying, 'Mr. Longly's compliments
to Lieutenant Hargrave, looks upon him as a scoundrel, and will be
obliged to him, to give him satisfaction'--he'd shirk the business,
and talk about his being a king's officer; so I just copied out what I
saw in a newspaper, and sent him, saying, 'If Lieutenant Hargrave will
be under the park-wall of Sir Francis Tyrrell's park, at twelve
o'clock, tomorrow, precisely, he will hear of something to his
advantage;' and I wrote down below, 'If he doesn't like coming alone,
he can bring a friend with him.' I gave it to a shrewd boy to carry,
and told him not to tell him who it came from; and the little rascal
made up a story for himself, and told him it was a lady had given it
to him. So he'll come, you may be sure, Hailes, and if once I get him
under the park-wall, he shall have his choice of the pistols, and
stand a long-shot, or I'll know the reason why. So I want you, John,
to come and be a witness, and see that I do everything fair, and let
him have his shot before I take mine."
Hailes agreed, very willingly, to go: for without attempting to define
the idea in his own mind, of absolutely killing Lieutenant Hargrave,
the good fisherman could not have conceived a more pleasurable
excursion than one, the object of which was to punish a person whom he
considered as a most odious villain.
The matter was all arranged, and Longly set out, to be at the
park-stile, which was at some distance from the spot he had appointed
for his meeting with Hargrave, in time to hold the conference he
proposed with Charles Tyrrell.
That gentleman, as we have seen, was delayed some time by the dispute
with his father, and some time longer by finding the door of the
garden, through which he had intended to take his way, locked, and the
key taken out, instead of being, as usual, wide open. When he arrived
at the park-stile, then, he found nobody on the spot; but he heard
some voices talking loudly, at some distance, and fearing that Hannah
and her father had met, without any person present, who might have
sufficient influence to bring about a reconciliation between them, he
hastened on, as fast as possible, toward the spot from which the
sounds appeared to come.
What was his surprise, when on arriving at the ground, he found
Longly, with a pistol in one hand, insisting upon Lieutenant Hargrave
taking the other, which he held out to him, and John Hailes standing
by, with the pistol-case, an extraordinary and not very expert second.
Hargrave was as pale as death, and as Charles came up, he heard him
say:--
"Sir, your design is to murder me, I see it clearly--to murder me for
doing my duty as a British officer, and giving information of a gang
of smugglers, of which you are the head. You may commit the murder, if
you will; but it shall be all upon your head; for I will not
countenance it by taking the pistol. I have done my duty, and that is
enough; and I must take the consequences."
"Come, come, Master Lieutenant, that won't do," replied Captain
Longly. "What I demand satisfaction for, is for nothing to do with the
smuggling, but for coming to my house and trying to seduce my
daughter, and making her go away to meet you in the wood."
"I declare to Heaven," cried young Hargrave, "she's as innocent as you
are."
"Ay, ay, innocent enough, I dare say," replied Longly; "if I thought
she wasn't, I'd pitch her into the sea. But it's not for want of your
trying to make her otherwise, and that's what I demand satisfaction
for."
"You demand satisfaction?" cried Hargrave, his blood beginning to get
up; "what right have you to ask for satisfaction of a king's officer?
Oh, here is Mr. Tyrrell come, I suppose, to aid and abet in this
business."
But Longly replied at once, without taking any notice of Charles
Tyrrell for the moment--
"What right have I to demand satisfaction!" he said, looking for the
time really dignified, "I'll tell you what right I have, Mr. Hargrave;
first, I have fought the enemies of my country oftener and better than
yourself; next, you have come, of your own goodwill, to dine at my
table; you have borrowed money out of my purse; you have shaken my
hand, and owned that I was a good friend to you; and if I was good
enough to be your friend, when you behaved well, I am quite good
enough to be your adversary, now that you have behaved ill; so you
sha'n't slink off under your quality, like a lousy Dutch lugger under
British colours. Mr. Tyrrell, you didn't come to your time; but I'll
talk to you in a minute, after I've settled with this fellow."
"Longly, Longly, think what you are doing," said Charles Tyrrell,
coming up closer, "you are very much in the wrong, depend upon it."
"Why, do you, too, mean to say that I am not as much entitled to
satisfaction as any gentleman among you all?" demanded Longly. "I'll
tell you what, Mr. Tyrrell----"
But Charles Tyrrell interrupted him.
"I do not mean to say that you have no right. If we have a title to
make fools of ourselves at all, I'm sure I do not see why one person
should not do it, as well as another; but the matter is this, Longly:
here, in the case of Mr. Hargrave, you have two offences mingled up
together, and you never can separate them, either in your mind, or in
the eye of the law. He, I understand, informed against you, in regard
to some matter of smuggling, which has not been proved, and though he
may have behaved very ill in other respects, yet depend upon it, it
will always be considered that you sought revenge for that offence,
and if you shoot him, you'll be hung, to a certainty."
"I don't care a ----," replied Longly, "I say it's about his conduct
to my daughter, that I've brought him here, and he shall fight me, or
I, and John Hailes here, will turn him round, and kick him from this
spot to the town, and all down the High street, which will be a
pleasant thing, won't it, for one of the king's officers, as he calls
himself, so you may stay and see if you like it, for what I've said
I'll do."
"Oh, I shall certainly not stay a moment longer," replied Charles
Tyrrell, "I cannot prevent you; but I have warned you how wrong you
are;" and turning on his heel, he walked back toward the stile, over
which he had come, just as Lieutenant Hargrave, who was growing angry,
was chiming in with a reply not at all likely to soothe the
indignation of the other.
Before Charles Tyrrell had gone a hundred yards, however, he heard
some one exclaim, "Make ready! present! fire!" which was instantly
followed by the discharge of a pistol. He could not resist the
temptation to turn round and look, and he beheld Longly and his
adversary, standing at the distance of about twelve yards from each
other. A pistol was in Lieutenant Hargrave's hand, and his arm dropped
by his side as if he had just discharged it. At the same time Longly's
arm was extended, and at the very moment that Charles Tyrrell turned
round, there came a flash from the pistol, a quick report, and
Lieutenant Hargrave staggered, fell upon his knee, struggled up again,
and then fell back at full length upon the ground.
Charles immediately ran up, and joined Longly and Hailes, who had
gathered round the body. The unfortunate young man drew one or two
convulsive gasps after Charles Tyrrell arrived, but he uttered not a
word, and though he once or twice opened his eyes, it was evidently
with no consciousness of anything that surrounded him. In a moment
after, he gave a sharp shudder, the small remains of colour in his
once florid countenance was succeeded by an awful ashy paleness, and
though it was afterward found as we have seen from Hailes's account,
that he revived twice before the spirit finally departed, Charles
Tyrrell and his companions were fully convinced that he was dead at
that very time.
They all gazed on him for a moment as he lay stretched upon the grass,
and then Longly turned to the young gentleman saying:--
"Now, Mr. Tyrrell, if you think as you did just now, you have nothing
to do but to go and send down people to take us up. As for any wrong
I've done, my heart's at rest; I've given him the first shot at
myself, and if he was such a fool and such a coward as not to be able
to hit such a great grampus as I am, that's not my fault. But he's had
fair play and a good distance, and so help me God, when I come to lie
like him, as I have thought of nothing throughout this morning, but
his shameful conduct to my poor motherless girl; so now go if you will
and send down constables for us, for if I'm to be hanged, I've had
something for it at least."
"No, no, Longly," replied Charles Tyrrell, holding out his hand to
him, "I will betray no man, and give you my honour, unless I am put
upon my oath against you, will never say one word of what I have seen
this day. I am sorry for you, Longly, for I fear the time will come
that you will bitterly repent what you have done."
"Not I, not I!" replied Longly, "I have done nothing but what's right,
and what he well deserved; but I always knew you were a gentleman and
a man of honour, Mr. Tyrrell, and I'm very much obliged to you, for
you see if you hold your tongue, nobody need know anything about this
business. There's a man here, living not many hundred yards off, in
whom I can trust, and if we can but get the body there without being
caught, we can stow it away, and nothing more be said about it."
A slight shudder came over Charles Tyrrell's frame, and he replied:--
"With that, of course, I can have nothing to do, Longly, but in
everything else you may depend upon me. I will in no degree betray
you, for I feel for you, even though I think you are wrong."
"No, no;" replied Longly, "of course you can have nothing to do with
the business, so the sooner you are gone the better. God bless you,
sir, and make you happy."
And without reply, Charles Tyrrell turned once more, and hurrying
along under the park-wall, re-entered the domain, not by the stile at
which he was to have met Longly, but by that which led to the end of
the lady-walk.
With his mind filled with painful images from what he had seen, he
returned to the house and traversed the library, as we have before
seen without speaking to Mr. Driesen, or, indeed, holding
communication with any one, till he had entered his own room and
locked the door, that he might have a few minutes to calm his mind,
and think, without interruption, over what had occurred.
He had remained there for some time, before he perceived that in
raising up the head and shoulders of the unhappy young man, whom he
had just seen slain, both his hands and shooting-jacket had been
stained with blood, and though he did not think it necessary to take
any means of removing the spots from the shooting-jacket, he washed
his hands with a feeling of horror and disgust at finding them dabbled
all over with human gore.
He had scarcely finished, when Mr. Driesen knocked at his door, and
feeling himself perfectly innocent, he opened it without hesitation.
Of the affair between Longly and young Hargrave he heard no more, till
he himself became the tenant of a prison. But the news of what had
occurred at Harbury park spread through the country, and was bruited
in all the newspapers.
Before two days were over, Longly found that Charles had suffered a
verdict of "Wilful murder" to be returned against him, and had allowed
himself to be carried to prison, rather than declare where he had
spent that time, which he, Longly, himself could but too well account
for; and, moreover, that his hands and coat had appeared stained with
blood, which he, Longly, himself had shed.
As soon as this was known to him, he sent off for young Morrison, and
the result we have already seen.
Such was the tale that Charles Tyrrell had to tell to Lucy Effingham,
as she sat beside him on the deck of the vessel; and in telling it,
though he softened some of the circumstances as far as possible, and
entered into none of the minute details which had pained and horrified
himself, he told her enough to agitate her by very different emotions;
by joy and satisfaction to find that there existed a power of proving
his innocence beyond all doubt, yet mingled with horror and dismay by
his account of scenes, into the passions producing which, a gentle
woman's heart could but feebly enter.