"He should be hereabouts. The doubling hare,
When flying from the swift pursuit of hounds,
Baying loud triumph, leaves her wonted path,
And seeks security within her nest."
_The Captive._
On the evening which followed the events narrated in the last chapter, a
party of half a dozen horsemen might be seen riding leisurely along the
road which led to Windsor Hall. From their dress and bearing they might
at once be recognized as military men, and indeed it was a detachment of
the force sent by Sir William Berkeley in search of such of the rebels
as might be lurking in different sections of the country. At their head
was Alfred Bernard, his tall and graceful form well set off by the
handsome military dress of the period. Dignified by a captaincy of
dragoons, the young intriguer at last thought himself on the high road
to success, and his whole course was marked by a zealous determination
to deserve by his actions the confidence reposed in him. For this his
temper and his cold, selfish nature eminently fitted him. The vindictive
Governor had no fear but that his vengeance would be complete, so long
as Alfred Bernard acted as his agent.
As the party approached the house, Colonel Temple, whose attention was
arrested by such an unusual appearance in the then peaceful state of the
country, came out to meet them, and with his usual bland courtesy
invited them in, at the same time shaking Bernard warmly by the hand.
The rough English soldiers, obeying the instructions of their host,
conducted their horses to the stable, while the young captain followed
his hospitable entertainer into the hall. Around the blazing fire, which
crackled and roared in the broad hearth, the little family were gathered
to hear the news.
"Prythee, Captain Bernard, for I must not forget your new title," said
the colonel, "what is the cause of this demonstration? No further
trouble with the rebels?"
"No, no," replied Bernard, "except to smoke the cowardly fellows out of
their holes. In the words of your old bard, we have only scotched the
snake, not killed it--and we are now seeking to bring the knaves to
justice."
"And do you find them difficult to catch?" said the Colonel. "Is the
scotched snake an 'anguis in herba?'"
"Aye, but they cannot escape us. These worshippers of liberty, who would
fain be martyrs to her cause, shall not elude the vigilance of justice.
I need not add, that you are not the object of our search, Colonel."
"Scarcely, my lad," returned Temple, with a smile, "for my mythology has
taught me, that these kindred deities are so nearly allied that the true
votaries of liberty will ever be pilgrims to the shrine of justice."
"And the pseudo votaries of freedom," continued Bernard, "who would
divide the sister goddesses, should be offered up as a sacrifice to
appease the neglected deity."
"Well, maybe so," returned Temple; "but neither religion nor government
should demand human sacrifices to a great extent. A few of the prominent
leaders might well be cut off to strike terror into the hearts of the
rest. Thus the demands of justice would be satisfied, consistently with
clemency which mercy would dictate."
"My dear sir, a hecatomb would not satisfy Berkeley. I am but his
minister, and could not, if I would, arrest his arm. Even now I come by
his express directions to ascertain whether any of the rebels may be
secreted near your residence. While he does not for a moment suspect
your loyalty, yet one of the villains, and he among the foremost in the
rebellion, has been traced in this direction."
"Sir," cried Temple, colouring with honest indignation; "dare you
suspect that I could harbour a rebel beneath my roof! But remember, that
I would as lief do that, abhorrent though it be to my principles, as to
harbour a spy."
"My dear sir," said Bernard, softly, "you mistake me most strangely, if
you suppose that I could lodge such a suspicion for a moment in my
heart; nor have I come as a spy upon your privacy, but to seek your
counsel. Sir William Berkeley is so well convinced of your stern and
unflinching faith, that he enjoins me to apply to you early for advice
as to how I should proceed in my duty."
"Well, my dear boy," said Temple, relapsing into good humour, for he was
not proof against the tempting bait of flattery, "you must pardon the
haste of an old man, who cannot bear any imputation upon his devotion to
the cause of his royal master. While I cannot aid you in your search, my
house is freely open to yourself and your party for such time as you may
think proper to use it."
"You have my thanks, my dear sir," said Bernard, "and indeed you are
entitled to the gratitude of the whole government. Sir William Berkeley
bade me say that he could never forget your kindness to him and his
little band of fugitives; and Lady Frances often says that she scarcely
regrets the cares and anxiety attending her flight, since they afforded
her an opportunity of enjoying the society of Mrs. Temple in her own
home, where she so especially shines."
"Indeed, we thank them both most cordially," said Mrs. Temple. "It was a
real pleasure to us to have them, I am sure; and though we hardly had
time to make them as comfortable as they might have been, yet a poor
feast, seasoned with a warm welcome, is fit for a king."
"I trust," said Bernard, "that Miss Virginia unites with you in the
interest which you profess in the cause of loyalty. May I hope, that
should it ever be our fortune again to be thrown like stranded wrecks
upon your hospitality, her welcome will not be wanting to our
happiness."
"It will always give me pleasure," said Virginia, "to welcome the guests
of my parents, and to add, as far as I can, to their comfort, whoever
they may be--more particularly when those guests are among my own
special friends."
"Of which number I am proud to consider myself, though unworthy of such
an honour," said Bernard. "But excuse me for a few moments, ladies, I
have somewhat to say to my sergeant before dinner. I will return
anon--as soon as possible; but you know, Colonel, duty should ever be
first served, and afterwards pleasure may be indulged. Duty is the prim
old wife, who must be duly attended to, and then Pleasure, the fair
young damsel, may claim her share of our devotion. Aye, Colonel?"
"Nay, if you enter the marriage state with such ideas of its duties as
that," returned the Colonel, smiling, "I rather think you will have a
troublesome career before you. But your maxim is true, though clothed in
an allegory a little too licentious. So, away with you, my boy, and
return as soon as you can, for I have much to ask you."
Released from the restraints imposed by the presence of the Colonel and
the ladies, Bernard rubbed his hands and chuckled inwardly as he went in
search of his sergeant.
"I am pretty sure we are on the right scent, Holliday," he said,
addressing a tall, strapping old soldier of about six feet in height.
"This prejudiced old steed seemed disposed to kick before he was
spurred--and, indeed, if he knew nothing himself, there is a pretty
little hind here, who I'll warrant is not so ignorant of the
hiding-place of her young hart."
"But I tell you what, Cap'n, it's devilish hard to worm a secret out of
these women kind. They'll tell any body else's secret, fast enough, but
d--n me if it don't seem as how they only do that to give more room to
keep their own."
"Well, we must try at any rate. It is not for you to oppose with your
impertinent objections what I may choose order. I hope you are soldier
enough to have learned that it is only your duty to obey."
"Oh! yes, Cap'n. I've learned that lesson long ago--and what's more, I
learned it on horseback, but, faith, it was one of those wooden steeds
that made me do all the travelling. Why, Lord bless me, to obey! It's
one of my ten commandments. I've got it written in stripes that's
legible on my shoulders now. 'Obey your officers in all things that your
days may be long and your back unskinned.'"
"Well, stop your intolerable nonsense," said Bernard, "and hear what I
would say. We stay here to-night. There is an Indian girl who lives
here, a kind of upper servant. You must manage to see her and talk with
her. But mind, nothing of our object, or your tongue shall be blistered
for it. Tell her that I wish to see her, beneath the old oak tree to
night, at ten o'clock. If she refuses, tell her to 'remember
Berkenhead.' These words will act as a charm upon her. Remember--Hush,
here comes the Colonel."
It will be remembered by the reader that the magic of these two words,
which were to have such an influence upon the young Mamalis, was due to
the shrewd suspicion of Alfred Bernard, insinuated at the time, that she
was the assassin of the ill-fated Berkenhead. By holding this simple
rod, _in terrorem_, over the poor girl, Bernard now saw that he might
wield immense power over her, and if the secret of Hansford's
hiding-place had been confided to her, he might easily extort it either
by arousing her vengeance once more, or in default of that by a menace
of exposure and punishment for the murder. But first he determined to
see Virginia, and make his peace with her; and under the plausible
guise of sympathy in her distress and pity for Hansford, to excite in
her an interest in his behalf, even while he was plotting the ruin of
her lover.
With his usual pliancy of manner, and control over his feelings, he
engaged in conversation with Colonel Temple, humouring the well-known
prejudices of the old gentleman, and by a little dexterous flattery
winning over the unsuspicious old lady to his favor. Even Virginia,
though her heart misgave her from the first that the arrival of Bernard
boded no good to her lover, was deceived by his plausible manners and
attracted by his brilliant conversation. So the tempter, with the
graceful crest, and beautiful colours of the subtle serpent beguiled Eve
far more effectually, than if in his own shape he had attempted to
convince her by the most specious sophisms.