A prisoner, didst thou say? O, gracious heaven!
Have mercy on my parents and my friends,
And for uncertainty let them not too long suffer!
Oh speedily set me free!--_Anon_.
*Cyrus*. Who art thou, fair and gentle princess?
*Myranda*. Knight,
I am, alas! unfortunate; but yet
I wish thee well, and fain would do thee service.
_Romance of Sir Cyrus_.
I will not do it, lady; speak no more.
_The Tempted_.
About half an hour after the dinner was concluded, the three young
friends were taken ashore in the jolly-boat. Leaving the beach, they
pursued a path through a dense forest for about half a mile, when they
came into a small opening in the woods, in the centre of which stood the
old brick building known as Eltonhead Manor House, surrounded by its
out-houses, all of brick. The opening in which this old-time mansion
stood had evidently been in former days much more extensive, for among
the small pine-trees covering the ground in the part of the forest
nearest to the old house, the earth still distinctly bore the impress of
corn-rows the marks of former cultivation of that species of grain first
obtained from the red man.
Desolation marked the spot. The yard and garden walls were broken down
in many places; the gate at the end of the short avenue had fallen and
now lay in ruins. The shade trees in the yard and avenue needed
pruning; scions from their roots had sprang up in all directions. Even
at this early season weeds spread over the yard and garden, and closed
the gateways; yet the building itself was in comparatively good
preservation.
It was not by any means such a mansion as in Great Britain would be
suggested to the mind by the title of manor house. It was built of
bricks imported from England, and the walls were of such thickness that,
though time had, in passing over them, stamped his impress upon them in
weather-stains and moss and lichen, they stood, apparently, as firm as
when first erected. The house, was two stories high; on the floor of
the first storey, a wide hall passing through the centre of the
buildings with two very large rooms on each side of it. The second
storey, and the attic to some extent, corresponded to the first; a broad
staircase led upwards from the hall on the ground floor. Some pieces of
old and almost worn-out furniture remained in the building, one or two
heavy old tables, and a dozen or so huge and very old-fashioned oaken
chairs. In one of the rooms downstairs were two or three rude settees
or benches, left by some tenant who had used the premises since they had
been deserted by their proper occupants.
During the afternoon Captain Dempster and his guests rambled through the
woods and along the bay shore. When they had concluded their ramble and
returned to the old manor house, the shades of twilight were gathering.
They found that three hammocks, intended for their night's rest, had
been swung in one of the large rooms of the second storey, and in
another room on the same floor, a plentiful and well-lighted board was
spread for supper. On a chair beside the supper table was an open
hamper of champagne, beside which was a pack of playing cards. The
intention of Captain Dempster was declared by himself to be to pass the
evening at whist, admitting Mr Brown, _alias_ Billy Bowsprit, to
complete the necessary party of four; the game to be enlivened by an
occasional glass of wine. No game of whist was played that evening,
however. John Coe, after he had finished his supper and taken one or
two glasses of champagne, was obliged to plead overwhelming drowsiness,
which he attributed to the interesting character and unusual excitement
of the day.
Although early in going to bed, yet it was late in the morning when the
young man awoke. On looking around him he found that the other hammocks
in the room were vacant.
Springing out of bed he hurried to the door; it was locked. The windows
were all down. On throwing open the sash of one of them and looking
out, he saw a man with a musket on his shoulder, who was promenading to
and fro in the yard below, and keeping an eye on the windows of his
room. It seemed, then, that he was guarded as if a prisoner. He called
out to the man who was apparently keeping watch in the court below.
"What do you want?" asked the guard.
"Where are Captain Dempster and Captain Marston?" exclaimed John.
"I don't know of whom you are talking," answered the guard. "I only
know that Captain Vance and Lieutenant Seacome took supper with you last
night, after which you got drunk, and had to be put to bed; and that
Captain Vance--my captain--said that you were on no account to leave the
house. That is all I know about the matter, sir."
"I was not drunk," said young Coe. "I took but two glasses of wine
after supper. There must be some mistake somewhere. The gentlemen with
whom I supped last night are two of my oldest friends. I never dreamed
that they were capable, nor can I yet believe that they are, of
treachery towards me."
"I don't understand what you are talking about," said the man with the
musket. "I only know that our orders are not only to keep you within
this house, but not to let any one come near enough to the house to hear
a human voice from it, even when raised to its highest pitch. We are
also ordered, if you make a very loud call, to shoot you at once. We
have nearly thirty men here; guards are placed all round the building,
and scouts are spread through the country for a mile round. My own
impression is, Mr Coe (that is your name I believe)--but it is, after
all, only my opinion, mind you--that you are a very close prisoner.
Moreover, I believe that I am authorised in saying to you that you are a
prisoner to men from whom no one ever escaped alive. So, close your
window, and make the best of your situation."
John left the window, and walked to the door, which he found locked.
On turning his face from the door he noticed, for the first time, in his
astonishment at his situation, that a table was already neatly spread,
near the middle of the room, with a clean, white damask table cloth,
upon which a handsome breakfast-set of china-ware was arranged, with
chairs, plates, knives and forks, cups and saucers, for two; but no
viands were yet set out upon the board.
The sight of the table so spread, creating in him a fear of being
surprised by the entrance of a visitant before his toilet was completed,
caused him to hurry on his dress. He found a pair of pistols in his
pockets; they seemed to be his own, but on examining them closely, he
found not the private mark which he had placed on each of them, soon
after they were purchased, to distinguish them from Henry Marston's. It
was evident that the re-exchange of pistols, by which his own should
have been returned to him, had either been overlooked, or intentionally
avoided by his captors the night before.
Scarcely had his hasty toilet been completed, for which he had found in
the room water, towels and soap, looking-glass, combs, brushes, shaving
instruments, and even scented oils and waters--when the door opened, and
two of the seamen came in, bringing the covers for breakfast. They
placed upon the table the dishes which they carried, and then
immediately retired, taking with them the three hammocks, and removing
all vestiges of the room having been slept in.
Shortly after they retired, two or three light taps were given at the
door, and a soft and musical female voice was heard asking permission to
enter.
"Enter if you can," he said.
The door was opened again, and what seemed to be a vision of loveliness
entered. This vision was a lady, rather above than under the ordinary
height, with a form as graceful as imagination can conceive. Her face
was oval in shape, her complexion was very pure olive, beautifully
tinged with rose. Her features were neither perfectly Grecian nor
perfectly Roman, but of a style where the two were equally and
beautifully blended. Her eyes were of jet-black, and of wonderful
brightness, and her hair, of raven hue, was confined by a circlet of
large pearls, with a single brilliant just above the forehead, and fell,
in heavy and tastefully-arranged masses of curls, all round her head, to
below her shoulders. Her dress was of rich black silk, elegantly fitted
to her shape, and ornamented, on the flounces of the skirt and above the
elbows of the loose sleeves, with thick and glossy fringes of the same
hue and material as the dress. Light golden bracelets, ornamented each
with pearls and a single diamond, encircled her wrists. As she advanced
into the room, her very small and well-shaped feet--covered with a pair
of light, black satin slippers, with high heels, and festooned with
light gold buckles, flashing with tiny jewels--peeped in and out from
under the sweeping folds of her skirt.
This lady advanced gracefully to the head of the table, making an
elegant courtesy to the astonished John, and inviting him, by a polite
motion of the head, to take a seat.
"A pleasant morning to you, Mr Coe," she said.
"I should thank you for your good wish," answered the young man; "but,
lady, I am a prisoner, I am informed. I have, it seems, been betrayed
by those whom I thought my friends. Oh, madam! of all the pains in the
world, the greatest is that which is caused by having been betrayed by
those in whom we had unlimited faith."
"There are cases in which that which seems to be treason is friendship
in disguise. It was no wish to do you injury which caused you to be
taken prisoner; but your friends wished to have you always with them.
Had harm been intended towards you, I should not have been left here; it
was thought that I might devise ways of making captivity more bearable
to you. I fear that this opinion only flattered me."
John was young, and therefore impressible; he could but feel the spell
of so dazzling a presence. What could he do but make such answer as the
lady had sought to obtain?
"So much beauty, madam," he said with _empressement_, "has power to
lessen the pain of the most wretched captivity."
"You are improving vastly," said the lady, with a bright and fascinating
smile. "We shall, I see, be very good friends, indeed. But the fact
that we shall have to pass nearly, if not quite two weeks together,
requires that you should have for me some less formal title than
`madam.' Call me, hereafter, Ada."
"You still leave me in doubt, madam. I cannot take the liberty of
addressing you familiarly by your Christian name."
The lady seemed for a moment to be in thought. "Know me then," she at
length said, "as Miss Ada Revere."
"Your face is strangely familiar to me," said John.
"You saw me yesterday morning," answered the lady, with a sad smile, "at
the Spout on Saint Leonard's Creek. You remember the lad who took
charge of your and Captain Marston's notes and horses?"
Young Coe's countenance expressed much surprise and interest. But Miss
Revere gave him no opportunity to speak.
"But I have known you much longer ago than that," she continued, after
making but little pause--"long before either of us knew that there was
evil or deceit in the world. I may, perhaps, by-and-bye tell you my sad
history,"--an expression of intense pain passed over the beautiful
face--"this is no time for such a narrative. Your own position requires
consideration and action; and our first thoughts must be given to that."
"Can you explain to me," asked John, "why I was captured, and why I am
held as a prisoner?"
"Yes," answered the lady; "and I am authorised to give you the
information which you ask. I was not at the store at Drum Point the
night before last, when you were seen by Captain Vance to look in at the
window while certain goods were being conveyed to their secret
depository; but I know all that took place. Ruin to Mr Ashleigh, and
great injury to all connected with the brig would have been the certain
result of your making publicly known what you had discovered. The first
thought was to pursue and capture you at once; and the attempt to do so
was made. That attempt was, as you know, a failure. The proposition
was then made, as you were known to more than one of the brig's company,
to seize you at once at your father's house. This proposition was made
by one whom I hate, a man the enormity of whose villainy I have no words
to express; I have no doubt that, had his proposal been acceded to, you
would have been killed instead of captured. Captain Marston saved you
from such a fate; he thought you might be enticed from your home, and
even induced to join the ship's company. He has a great affection for
you, as an old schoolmate and friend; he has told me, with his own lips,
that there is no living man for whom he has greater regard than for
yourself."
"I do not, without much painful feeling, oppose a lady's views," said
our hero, "and yours seem to agree with those of Captain Marston; but it
would not be fair in me to allow you to entertain opinions so incorrect
as are Captain Marston's respecting my character. True, I have been
made a prisoner in the manner in which he had thought that I could be
captured; so far his views were correct. But he does not understand my
character entirely: I can be led--alas! too easily--even perhaps, to do
what my moral sense disapproves of; but I cannot be driven. Had I been
attacked in my father's house by open force, I do not think that I
should have been captured; I had arms at hand, and should have resisted
to the death. My father is himself a strong, sensible, and brave man;
the negroes would have fought for both. We might, at least, have held
out until the neighbourhood could have been aroused; and the result,
instead of being disastrous to me, might have been ruinous to the
assailants. As to Captain Marston's impression that I might be induced
to join a ship's company, or any other company, engaged in illicit
trade--especially without my father's consent--such a notion proves that
he understands, and but to a small extent, only the outride of my
character; while my inner and real life is to him a thoroughly sealed
book."
The lady reflected for some moments. She hardly knew how to act with
the case before her. She saw clearly that he felt the power of her
beauty; but that beauty, she began to think, would have no influence to
change his opinions. She had been placed in the position in which we
find her for the purpose of inducing young Coe to join the company of
the brig; she was authorised to offer him a new office in that company
which was to be created especially for him, that of commander of a kind
of marine corps, to be organised especially on his account, and the
chief officer of which organisation, should he become popular with his
men, might have the power to defy the authority of the captain of the
brig himself, or even to supersede him.
Miss Ada Revere, as she called herself, determined, after some
reflection, to pursue the subject no further for the present.
"We shall be prisoners in this house, Mr Coe," she added, after a few
moments' silence, "for some weeks, while the _Sea-bird_ is discharging
and receiving freight, and perhaps undergoing some necessary repairs.
In the meantime, it will be my duty to use my best efforts to make your
captivity bearable. We have the materials here for chess, draughts, and
backgammon. I sing a little, and also play upon several musical
instruments; but only one instrument of the kind is here--a guitar.
Should you wish to take a glass of wine, there are specimens of several
vintages at hand. And believe, at any rate, that, whatever may happen,
I am entirely your friend."
The lady was evidently in earnest in this last declaration. John made a
proper acknowledgment; and in a few moments the two were engaged in a
game of chess.