The life of man, like the life of society, goes in epochs. There are
periods at which fair fortune or ill fortune seems to begin or end;
and a long succession of bright or dark days follows, during which no
folly seems capable of clouding the sunshine--no precaution sufficient
to avert the storm.
The Earl of Eskdale was that day destined to disappointment when,
after a long and tiresome ride, fatiguing from the slowness at which
the troop moved, he reached Ale Manor, and was admitted, strictly
guarded, to the house and to his own rooms. He found that Sir John
Newark had gone out about an hour before, and had taken Emmeline and
Richard with him. There was no resource but to procure what letters,
money, and apparel he required, and to accompany Captain Smallpiece on
the road towards Exeter. The fine wild scenery round Ale looked more
beautiful than ever, though the day was not so promising as many which
had preceded it. The sky indeed was generally blue, and the air warmer
than it had been in the month of July; but ever and anon came heavy
masses of cloud, floating distinct, low, and heavy, and looking like
the flying island of Laputa to the eyes of Gulliver. From time to
time, too, they had let fall, in passing, a few large drops of rain;
and, amongst the mistiness which hung about the south-west, might be
seen strange forms of hardening vapours of a light reddish hue where
they caught the rays of the sun.
When Smeaton descended from the room he had inhabited, in order to
remount, he found several of the servants in the hall, with old Mrs.
Culpepper at their head. She seemed to witness his captivity with a
stoical sort of apathy, which he knew to be far from her nature, and
took no more notice of him than by dropping a formal curtsey as he
passed. He easily understood her motives, and merely said--
"Be so good as to inform Sir John Newark, madam, that I trust to be
back here in a few days. Do not let him make himself at all uneasy on
my account; for, as he well knows, I have given no offence to the
existing government, and can therefore be in no danger."
"I will tell him, sir," replied Mrs. Culpepper; and the young nobleman
mounted and rode on.
The pace at which Captain Smallpiece thought fit to proceed was, as I
have hinted, the very slowest possible; and it was evident to Smeaton
that he did not intend to reach Exeter that night; but the clouds,
which began to gather thick and lurid in the sky some way before they
reached the hamlet and church of Aleton, induced him to quicken his
movements a little. Rain was beginning to fall when they passed the
small public-house; and the sergeant of the troop, who seemed on very
familiar terms with his commanding officer, ventured to hint that it
might be as well to stop there and refresh the men and horses.
"No, no, Jack," replied the captain. "We must get on a little farther,
till we come to Norton-Newchurch. There, we'll halt at old Mother
Gandy's. She brews the best, and I owe her a turn."
Perhaps he regretted, before long, that he had determined to proceed;
for the menacing aspect of the clouds was soon changed into active
operations. Thunder, lightning, and torrents of rain, pursued the
party for the next three miles, which was the distance between Aleton
and Newchurch, and not a man but was drenched to the skin, when the
party dismounted at the door of the inn--if inn it could be properly
called, being nothing more than a long rambling public-house, of two
low stories, looking like half-a-dozen cottages put together.
As soon as he was under shelter, Captain Smallpiece drew forth his
watch, and found that he had contrived to make it six o'clock before
his arrival. This was just what he intended, apparently; for he
abruptly declared that, with wearied men and horses, it would be
impossible to reach Exeter that night. He then made arrangements for
the accommodation of his soldiers, and demanded a private room for
himself and his prisoners, at the door of which he planted the trooper
whom he most disliked in the party, to perform, in his dripping
clothes, the wearisome office of sentry.
"Now, my Lord," he said, as soon as the door was shut, "what will you
please to treat the men with? Gadzooks! I shall be glad enough to put
something warm into my own stomach; and I dare say they will too, poor
devils!"
Smeaton smiled, and replied--
"If you will call the landlady--mother Gandy, as you name her--I will
order refreshment for ourselves. As to the men, you had better take
these ten guineas to provide them with what you judge necessary."
The Captain had no scruple; and, when the landlady appeared, the young
nobleman gave an ample order for good cheer for himself and his
companions; and the worthy officer ordered refreshments for the men to
the value of about a fourth part of what he had received.
"Set a barrel of good strong ale a-broach for them, madam, on my
account," said the young Earl; and, with a low curtsey, the good woman
withdrew, while Smallpiece exclaimed, with a coarse laugh,
"D----n it, you must not make them drunk, my Lord."
"I have no such intention, sir," replied Smeaton; "and, if I had, they
would get sober before morning."
In one respect, the young nobleman and Van Noost were better off than
their captors; for they had dry clothes at hand, of which they did not
neglect to avail themselves; and good Van Noost seemed to acquire
fresh courage with a dry jerkin. A good supper--for in those old times
seven o'clock might be considered as a supper hour--completely
restored him to confidence; and Captain Smallpiece, gazing on his
washed and rubicund face, and clean apparel, and listening to his flat
jokes, and his discourses regarding all his leaden mythology on the
Reading road, could hardly believe that he was the same man he had
first seen at Keanton, and pronounced him a jolly good fellow. This
impression was very greatly increased when Van Noost undertook to
manufacture the punch for the whole party, and his brewing turned out
to be the most delicious that had ever been tasted.
Fertile in resources, whenever his first panics had subsided, the
sculptor's brain was now entirely occupied with the thought of finding
means for the escape of himself and his companion, never dreaming that
Smeaton had no desire to escape at all. The first and simplest scheme
that suggested itself to his mind was to make Captain Smallpiece
drunk, and the worthy officer's propensity towards the bottle was
written on his countenance in large letters. But insuperable obstacles
intervened; the punch being made in the room, there was no deceiving
Smallpiece as to the proportions of the rum and the water. Moreover,
the worthy captain was upon his guard against himself; and, though he
drank fast and hard at first, he soon began to hold his hand. One bowl
was emptied without doing harm to any one.
Van Noost began to brew another, but Smeaton told him he should drink
no more, and Captain Smallpiece said,
"Nor I either."
The sculptor went on, however, and took a ladle-full, saying,
"I am not afraid. My stomach is stout and my brain too."
"Well, another glass," said the captain, in a resigned tone; and to
that other glass he added a second, a third, and a fourth, sometimes
making Van Noost drink with him, sometimes stretching forth his hand
to the bowl and helping himself almost unconsciously. But his head was
a well-seasoned cask, upon which the fresh liquor made little
impression. He merely grew somewhat more loud and talkative, more
domineering in his manner and his tone.
Then Van Noost thought that, if he could but get Smeaton's servant
into the room and the sentry away from the door, they could soon
overpower the worthy captain himself, and make their escape from the
window, which was on the ground floor; but the young nobleman would
not take any hint. He did not want his servant and would not send for
him, and Captain Smallpiece continued, with his long legs under the
table, and his eyes turned towards the door, so as to see the sentry
every time it opened. Some of Van Noost's man[oe]uvres, too, seemed to
excite his suspicion; for when, on one occasion, the statuary rose and
went to the window, he exclaimed--
"Come, come, sit down, fat gentleman. What are you marauding about
for?"
"I only wanted to see if it rained still," replied Van Noost; "but it
is quite a fine night, and the moon is coming out between the white
streaks."
Captain Smallpiece d--d the moon, and asked what he had to do with
her.
"Perhaps she might light you to Exeter, If you like to ride," said the
young nobleman, gravely. "Is such your intention or not, Captain
Smallpiece? for I think I hear your men bringing out the horses."
"Not they!" cried the captain, without budging from his seat; "and, if
they do, they must take them in again. I gave my orders; if they
choose to mistake, it is their own fault."
Van Noost kept quite silent; for the sounds which had reached
Smeaton's ear reached his also; and there certainly was a noise as of
many feet before the house. Then came a loud burst of talking and
laughing, and a merry voice without tuned up some ribald song. A lull
succeeded; then more loud talking; then, apparently, angry words, and
at last a loud and confused din, as if twenty or thirty people were
all shouting at once.
"Some of those blackguards of mine have got drunk, and are quarrelling
with the bumpkins," said Captain Smallpiece, in a growling tone.
"Well, they must fight it out; but they had better make haste, or
_I'll_ be in amongst them."
The din increased instead of diminishing; and, at the same moment, a
voice was heard speaking to the sentry at the door.
"What is the matter?" shouted Captain Smallpiece, without rising. But,
almost as he spoke, there was the report of a pistol; the door burst
open; the sentry was thrown headlong into the room; and a number of
men rushed in, with white shirts drawn over their garments, and their
faces blackened.
Starting on his feet with a tremendous oath, Captain Smallpiece seized
Van Noost by the collar, exclaiming--
"This is thy doing, and I will blow thy brains out." At the same time,
he pressed a large horse-pistol to the unhappy man's head, and the
lock clicked as he cocked the weapon. The fury in his face, and the
fierceness of his gesture, showed that he was prepared to execute his
threat, and another moment would have sent the poor sculptor to an
immortality somewhat different from that which his leaden figures were
likely to procure for him. But a tremendous blow from Smeaton's strong
arm saved Van Noost's life, and laid the doughty captain grovelling on
the ground. As he fell, the pistol went off, and the bullet struck the
wall, while he shouted furiously--"Ah, my lord, you shall hang for
this!"
What followed it is impossible to describe accurately; for the men
from without, rushing in and throwing themselves both upon the officer
and the sentry, contrived in the short struggle which ensued to bind
them, to overturn the table, break the punch-bowl and glasses, and
extinguish the lights. In the midst of this scene, Smeaton found his
hand grasped by some one, and a voice said--"Come with me, come with
me, and you are safe."
He hesitated for an instant, while a multitude of considerations
passed through his mind, rendering it difficult to decide what to do.
Another man, however, caught him likewise by the arm, and they hurried
him on between them towards the door.
"This way, this way, my Lord," said a voice, which he thought he knew.
All was darkness in the passage, and those who guided him did not take
him through the room in which the soldiers had been regaling. The door
of the kitchen was open, however, and the interior, as he passed,
presented a somewhat strange sight. Two or three of the troopers were
lying on the floor, apparently dead-drunk; others were sitting upon
benches or stools, with their arms tied tightly behind them; some were
in a sleepy state of drunkenness, which rendered them nearly
unconscious of what had happened; others were roaring forth a
bacchanalian song in spite of their bondage, or sitting, gloomy and
stern, mediating over the way in which they had suffered themselves to
be surprised.
Amongst the latter was the sergeant, Miles, who caught a glimpse of
Smeaton, and exclaimed:
"Ah, my Lord, I know you."
Smeaton paused, as if to reply; but the two men hurried him forward
forcibly, and the next moment he was standing upon the road before the
inn.
"Here is your horse, sir," said the voice of his servant. "All the
things are in the saddle-bag behind. Let us be off as fast as
possible. Then the good folks will separate. Quick, my Lord! I will
show you the way."
Smeaton mounted in silence amongst a number of horses, and with eight
or ten men flitting round, but apparently taking not the least notice
of him. They suffered him to ride away after his servant, without even
a word in answer to a question he addressed to one of them. Everything
was conducted in profound silence; and, in a few minutes, the young
nobleman was over the brow of the hill, and out of sight of the house.
The servant rode on before, leaving his master to follow, and soon
left the high Exeter road on which the inn was situated, for the downs
which extended nearly to Mount Place on the one side, and to Ale Manor
on the other.
It may be necessary, before I proceed, to take some brief notice of
the various thoughts which had crossed Smeaton's mind during the last
few minutes, as his conduct was greatly affected thereby. It must be
recollected, that in the whole transaction he was taken entirely by
surprise. He was not, indeed, often found unprepared for any event;
but all which had occurred had passed so rapidly, that impulse might
well act in the place of reason. Though not without a thorough
conviction that, if he did not interfere, another moment would
terminate poor Van Noost's life, it was upon impulse that he knocked
down Captain Smallpiece, and he much regretted the necessity of so
doing to save the poor statuary. The consequences of that act
presented themselves to his mind the moment after. He saw that it
compromised him in a very serious manner, and that a little skilful
torturing of evidence, by an experienced lawyer, would connect the
fact of his taking part in the active struggle for his liberation,
with his having ordered the ale with which the soldiers besotted
themselves, and that again with the well-organised plan for his
rescue, which he doubted not had been executed by his own tenantry. To
all this, moreover, would be joined the lead-melting at Keanton, and
the words which Van Noost had spoken, and which General C---- and the
soldiers had only partly heard.
The whole of the above incidents would indeed form a chain of evidence
tending to the one conclusion, that, notwithstanding his promise to
Lord Stair, he had taken active measures to promote the insurrection
against the government. He knew well, too, that persons made prisoners
in the first outbreak of a rebellion are sure to receive little mercy,
and sometimes little justice. Party violence demands victims, and
examples must be made to deter the wavering by fear; so that both
passion and policy combine for their destruction. If he neglected the
means of escape, there was no prospect before him but long
imprisonment, or death on a scaffold.
Then came another consideration, and I must leave it to the reader to
settle, as he may be old or young, phlegmatic or ardent, how much this
contributed to his decision. He thought of Emmeline, of how these
events might affect _her_; nay, more, hopes and expectations flashed
through his mind of being able, were he finally to succeed in
escaping, to execute the scheme of carrying her away to another land,
and uniting her fate to his. At the same time, he calculated, with the
confidence of youth, upon easily clearing himself of all criminal
share in the transactions which had occurred, if time were but allowed
for him to prove the facts, and for men's minds to become composed and
tranquillised.
Such were the motives on which he acted. I do not mean to say they
were altogether just; for I am not drawing a perfect character. They
seemed sufficient to him at the time, however, and his next thought
was, how best to take advantage of the circumstances in which he was
placed. Meditating in silence, he suffered his servant to ride on for
about a mile; but then the latter dropped back, touching his hat, and
saying--
"That way leads to Aleton Church and Ale, my lord, and that to
Keanton. Though I thought you would like to go to Ale, I took a round
to avoid the people; but your lordship can do as you like. You are
about half way between the two places, somewhat nearer to Keanton
perhaps; but I think Ale will be the safest."
"Why do you think so?" demanded &Heaton. "And what made you believe I
should prefer going to Ale?"
"Why, my lord," replied the man, in his easy nonchalant way, "at Ale
you can have a boat always ready to carry you off to the coast of
France for half-a-dozen guineas; and the valley is so narrow, that you
can get timely notice if people come down to take you. Then, as to
your second question, I have always remarked that gentlemen about your
age like better to live in houses where there are pretty young ladies,
than in houses where there are nothing but ugly old women. Moths will
fly in the candle, my lord, and young gentlemen are very courageous."
Smeaton smiled, and the man was falling back as if to let him lead the
way, when his master stopped him, saying--
"Here, ride on beside me, Higham, and tell me how all this business
has happened."
"On my life, I don't know, my lord," replied the man. "I had no hand
in it, but just getting out your horse and mine, and throwing the
saddle-bags across them. All I did was, when they were carrying you
out of Keanton, to ride down and tell the stout farmer, who was so,
busy, that he had better keep the people quiet for the time; but that,
if he set people to look out for us from the top of the hills, he
might find means of helping you out of the scrape before you got to
Exeter."
"I am grieved at this," said Smeaton, somewhat sternly. "You should
not have done so without orders. These poor people have now seriously
compromised themselves with the government for an object which I did
not at all desire, and I myself am thereby placed in very unpleasant
circumstances. Do you think any of them were recognised by the
soldiers?"
"Oh dear, no," replied the man. "I'll tell you how it all happened, my
lord. When I heard you had ordered the men a whole barrel of humming
ale, I naturally thought you intended to make them drunk. There were
ten soldiers besides the sentry. A barrel holds six-and-thirty
gallons. Now that is three gallons and a half a man. I say I could
think nothing else, my lord, than that you meant to intoxicate the
party; so I determined to help, and I treated them all round to a
glass of strong waters to begin with. Just about nine o'clock, when
the ale had worked, and the strong waters had helped it, and the men
were three parts tipsy, in came three country fellows, and called for
a pint a-piece. The soldiers began jeering them, and I thought they
took it wonderfully quiet, for they only jeered them again, and there
was a good deal of laughing and noise. Then came in two more country
lads, strong likely fellows enough, and they too sat down and talked.
A minute or two after, some people on horseback came up to the front
of the house, and had the landlady called out; and three of the
soldiers went out after her, and we could hear a great roaring and
noise about the door, and one of the half-tipsy soldiers said,
drowsily, 'I dare say they are all smugglers from Ale.' This set one
of the countrymen to pick a quarrel with him, and, just when they were
coming to blows, in rushed a whole set of tall hearty fellows, with
white shirts on, and their faces blackened. They pounced upon the
soldiers like so many goshawks, and, without much of a struggle, tied
them, one and all, as tight as if they were going to Tyburn. There was
some cracked crockery, indeed, and a stool or two upset; but it was
all done very gingerly, for I was not away two minutes, getting out
the horses, and it was over before I came back."
"But what made you get out the horses at all?" demanded Smeaton.
"Why, just when the black-faced fellows were coming in, one of the
countrymen whispered to me--'Get out your lord's horse in a minute,
and give him to the man who is holding the others at the door.'
However, as I was saying, it was all done and over when I got back,
the soldiers all tied, and as mute as mice; and one of the men said,
in a feigned voice--'Where is your lord? The old woman won't tell.' So
I led them along up to the sentry, going first myself. He spoke a word
or two, and asked what all the noise was about; and when I tried to
get hold of him, he fired his pistol, and in the struggle we both
tumbled into the room. Your lordship knows all the rest."
"But were all these men from Keanton, do you think?" his master
inquired.
"I don't think it, my lord," replied Higham. "The black-faced fellows,
at least, looked much more like Ale men, and they carried their hands
inside out, like other marine animals. No, I think they came from Ale;
but it is clear enough they were in league with the bumpkins; and I
saw the jolly old farmer outside of the door. That I could swear to."
"Pray mention it to no one, then," said Smeaton; "for I should be very
sorry that he suffered for this rash enterprise."
"The men might be smugglers, after all, my lord," observed the
servant, "and might just get a hint when they came up. They are always
ready enough to take part in a riot, and to thrash the soldiers. I
cannot say how it was, but I tell you all I know."
The information thus received did not induce Smeaton to take a better
view of the aspect which the whole circumstances might present when
brought into a court of justice. Here was his own servant acting with
the mob who had rescued him, attempting to seize and disarm the
sentry, and taking a prominent part in the whole affair. Nor did he at
all feel sure that, though acting with the best intentions, the man
had told him all. It seemed to him improbable that his horse should be
so speedily saddled without some previous intimation of the attempt
which was about to be made; but he thought it better not to question
him any farther, and pursued his way in silence towards Aleton Church.
The round they had taken made the distance fully six miles; but at
length the building began to appear upon the side of the hill; and the
Exeter road was perceived descending into the village. The moon,
though occasional clouds still flitted over her, was shining with
peculiar brightness after the storm, and by her light he perceived a
number of persons both on horseback and on foot taking their way in
the same direction as himself. They were going along in so leisurely
and unconcerned a manner, that he could hardly fancy them the persons
so lately engaged in a daring and hazardous act, although the white
garments with which the greater number of them were covered seemed to
mark them out as the same. He thought it better to avoid them,
however, on all accounts; and, for that purpose, being higher up on
the hill than the church, he so directed his course as to bring the
building between himself and them. Before this was accomplished,
however, he saw one figure separate from the rest in order to climb
the hill; and, in the short round form, he recognised, with great
satisfaction, a strong resemblance to good Van Noost.
"Those are some of the men, my lord," said the servant, "going back to
Ale, you see. I should not wonder if they were smugglers after all."
Smeaton was very much puzzled. A suspicion had more than once crossed
his mind, from the words of young Richard Newark, from Sir John's
eagerness to induce him to go that day to Mount Place, and from all
which had occurred after, that his worthy host had led him into a
trap. Yet who could have sent these people to rescue him except Sir
John Newark?
"If that is Van Noost, I will know," he said to himself; and, turning
again to the servant, he asked--"Is not that very like the stout man
who was made prisoner with me? I hope so; for I was anxious about
him."
"Oh, yes, my lord, that is he," replied the man; "but there is no fear
about him. He is too fat for any harm to happen to him. He'll roll
like one of those things called buoys at sea, which are tumbled about
in all sorts of ways, but always get right end uppermost."
"I must speak to him, however," said Smeaton. "Here, hold the horse,
and I will go up to him on foot. If I ride after him, he will run."
"And burst himself," added Higham, taking his lord's horse.
Van Noost, in the meantime, had climbed the hill, approached the wall
of the churchyard, and entered the gates; but when Smeaton, following
with a quick step, approached them, he found them locked, to his great
surprise, and Van Noost nowhere to be seen. Without hesitation he
vaulted over the low wall, and then ventured to call upon his stout
friend's name. At first there was no reply; but upon his exclaiming
again, "Van Noost, Van Noost, I want to speak with you," the head and
shoulders of the statuary were protruded from behind a buttress, and
he came forward as soon as he saw who it was that called.
"Ah, my dear lord," he said, "I am so glad to see you at liberty, and
glad enough to find myself so too. You had better come in here where I
am going. I am dead tired, I know, and I dare say you are too--those
cursed saddle-bags have so fatigued me. But we shall be quite safe
here; and I have got half a loaf and a long Oxford sausage with me."
"Where do you intend to hide?" asked Smeaton. "It will be better for
you to come on with me to Ale, whence we can easily get to France."
"I would if I could; but I cannot," replied the poor man. "I have been
so bumped and thumped and knocked about, that I have not got a leg to
stand upon. I am going down into the crypt. There is an end of my old
candle left, just to keep away the ghosts, and I shall be quite safe
there."
"But how will you get in?" asked Smeaton.
Van Noost laughed.
"Ah! my lord," he said, "I have a fondness for keys, you know. I don't
keep keys long in my hands without having a model of them. I have got
a key for the door of the hiding-place at Ale; for I thought, whatever
your Lordship might say, it might, some day, be of use to you; and I
made one out of an old key at Keanton as soon as I got there."
Smeaton paused in thought for a minute, and then said.
"Give me that key, Van Noost. I should like to have it; and now, mark
what I am about to say. _You_ only know how far you have committed
yourself with the government. I am going on to Ale--but not, in all
probability, to the Manor House. I shall take up my abode in one of
the cottages, if I can find a room. I shall have a boat kept ready to
convey me to France in case of need; and, if you think it better for
yourself to quit this country, you can come and join me at Ale before
daylight to-morrow, resting here in the meanwhile. Some time will
probably elapse before we are pursued, for the soldiers will doubtless
go on to Exeter in the first place."
"I'll not fail, my dear Lord--I'll not fail," replied Van Noost; "and
yet how can I go to France? It will almost break my heart.--My
statues! How can I leave all my statues? And yet, as I may say, the
parting has already taken place.--But let me get the key. It is in the
saddle-bags by the little door.--Would that I had never meddled with
politics!"
As he spoke, he turned back towards the church, accompanied by the
young nobleman, who endeavoured to learn from him, without much
success, by whose orders the men from Ale had joined the rescue party.
They had all been "monstrous silent," Van Noost said; but, when the
Earl added some farther questions as to whether they had ever
mentioned Sir John Newark's name, the worthy sculptor exclaimed,
somewhat vehemently.
"Ay, that they did, my Lord--at least, one of them; and I think you
had a great deal better not go near Ale Manor again. From what one of
them said, as two talked together, I made out that none of all this
bad business would have happened if it had not been for Sir John. They
say he has played the same trick to others before you, and always
_peaches_ and _plays booty_, except in the matter of smuggling."
"Then he did not order the rescue?" asked Smeaton.
"Oh, dear, no," answered Van Noost. "He sent messengers to Exeter in
the middle of last night, with letters to the high-sheriff. So you may
judge of the rest."
"Give me the key, my good friend," said Smeaton, through whose brain
were passing many rapid considerations regarding his future conduct.
"Did you make acquaintance with the parson of this place when you were
here?"
"Ay, that I did, and rose high in his favour too," replied the
sculptor. "He is a good, fat, jolly priest as ever waddled."
"And thinks of the things of this life, more than of the things of
another, perhaps?" asked Smeaton.
"Ay, truly," responded the statuary. "He has more gods than one. A
pipe of wine, a purse of guineas, a sucking-pig, or a haunch of
venison, are better than any rubric for him, I wot."
"I must see to this," said Smeaton, in a musing tone; and, although
the statuary could not divine whether he alluded to the parson or the
pig, the purse or the pipe of wine, he did not venture to ask any
questions, but got the key out of his saddle-bags. Having given it to
Smeaton, the latter bade him adieu, and rode away.