Oh the night after Ralph Woodhall's trial for treason, at the end of a
lane, which at that time ran at the back of Dorchester jail, stood a
man holding the bridles of two horses over his arm. From time to time
he looked forward toward the prison, but more frequently kept his eyes
fixed upon the ground. At length his sharp ear caught the sound of
steps; and shortly after, the figures of two men appeared advancing at
a quick pace. The watcher did not move from the spot, but put his hand
on the hilt of his sword, and ascertained that it moved easily in the
scabbard. The two men he had seen came forward rapidly, and when quite
close, one of them said, "Stilling?" in an inquiring tone.
"The same, sir," said the man. "Here, fellow--here are the other two
hundred pounds for you; look at it, and count it, if you will."
The third man took a bag which was held out to him, withdrew the shade
of a dark lantern, and by its light examined what he had received. He
soon saw that the contents of the bag were gold, and, after weighing
it in his hand, seemed to be satisfied that the count must be about
right.
"I dare say it's all fair," he said, "but I can not stop to count it.
Good-night, sir, and good speed to you. You will be far enough by this
time to-morrow, I hope."
"That he will," answered Stilling; and, drawing one of the horses
forward, while the jailer closed his dark lantern and hurried rapidly
away, he continued, "Let us mount and be gone, sir; we ought to be ten
leagues at sea before daybreak."
Ralph sprang upon the horse's back, and in a few moments he and Gaunt
Stilling were riding away from Dorchester at full speed.
The latter led the way; and very little was said by either for
somewhat more than an hour end a half, when Stilling turned to his
young master, saying, "We are beyond pursuit, I think, sir. Twenty
minutes more will bring us to the boat's side. All is ready and
arranged; and they but wait for us, to put off."
"I have much to thank you for, Stilling," replied his master; "but you
must have had some assistance from others. Who has furnished you with
the means to bribe these men?"
"Faith, no one furnished me with any thing for that purpose," replied
Stilling; "but Lady Danvers's steward gave me five hundred pounds, to
make all smooth at Bridgewater, when we were going there. I had no
scruple in using it now, as I knew she would wish it used; so I paid
these knaves three hundred and fifty pounds to let you out, and hired
a good lugger for another hundred."
New questions and answers succeeded; and Ralph found that the cause of
Stilling's never having returned to the farmhouse at the edge of
Sedgemoor, when sent to obtain information, was very simple. He had
fallen in with some men of the Tangier regiment, and had been carried
to the quarters of Colonel Kirke. That worthy officer had thought fit
to detain him, strongly suspecting that he had some design of joining
the forces of Monmouth.
"I do not mean to say," continued Stilling, "that I had not a strong
inclination to do so; for there was one good stroke I would fain have
given in that battle. However, Kirke could prove nothing against me,
except that I had made my way straight to the quarters of the king's
army, which didn't suit his purpose, otherwise he would have had as
much pleasure in hanging his old comrade as any of the poor rebels
whom he butchered. He was forced, in the end, to let me go; and the
first thing I heard was that you were in Dorchester jail. I took what
measures I thought necessary, regarding the first charge against you;
but I was quite unprepared for the second--and marvelous well they got
it up; so I had nothing for it but to do my best to get you out after
condemnation, which, knowing well all the people here in Dorchester,
was no very difficult matter."
Less than half an hour more bought the two horsemen to the sea-shore
at a spot where the coast was low and sandy; and after riding along
for some way, they came upon a small group of fishermen's houses,
where lights were still to be seen, and several persons moving about.
At some little distance from the shore was a large lug sail-boat of
some forty or fifty tons burden, and Ralph and his companion were
instantly accosted by one or two of the fishermen, who urged them to
hurry their movements, as the tide was going out.
Neither was inclined to make any long delay. Ralph sprang to the
ground at once. Stilling gave the horses to one of the men, with
injunctions to do with them as they had been directed before, and both
entering a little row-boat which lay at the beach, were pushed off by
two of the fishermen who accompanied them, and were soon safely on
board the lugger. A favorable breeze was blowing, the large, heavy
sails were speedily filled, and away the boat went, bounding over the
waves, directing her course right toward the coast of France.
It might render the narrative more interesting, perhaps, if I could
recall any hair-breadth escapes or marvelous passages in the voyage;
but, alas! there were none such to chronicle. The wind was perfectly
fair; the water slightly agitated, but not stormy; no king's vessels
appeared, to give chase to the little craft; and the only objects they
saw, except sea and sky, until they reached the French coast, were
several other large fishing-boats like their own, and, just about
daybreak, one man-of-war, in the far distance, with all sails set, but
steering away from them. She looked like a phantom upon the waters,
with her hull below the line of vision, and her sails figured faintly
on the distant sky.
Toward the close of the day they reached a little French port; and
doubtless it would not be very interesting to the reader to hear all
the little difficulties that beset them in making their way to
Holland, or how they overcame them. Suffice that they were overcome,
and that Ralph and his companion crossed the frontier line in about a
fortnight after they had quitted England. They made their way as
rapidly as possible to Amsterdam--the Hague not being a place quite
safe at that time for refugees from England. Having passed all his
early life at college or in the country, Ralph Woodhall only found one
person in the city with whom he had any acquaintance. This was a dry,
melancholy young man, who had been at Cambridge with him for some
time, but had abandoned the Church of England, and adopted the views
of the most extreme Calvinists. He was kind in his own way, and Ralph
was in need of kindness; but the views of this fellow-collegian were
so different from his own that there could be no great companionship
between them; and certainly the young Dissenter's conversation was not
at all likely to lighten the load of care for any man.
Gaunt Stilling, on the contrary, found numerous acquaintances among
the English who had taken refuge at Amsterdam. But both Gaunt Stilling
and his master had too many dark and gloomy chambers in the palace of
the breast to be willing to admit many to their intimacy. Ralph
Woodhall, on his arrival at the Dutch capital, it must be recollected,
was in no degree aware that a pardon had been obtained for him in
regard to the crime of high treason with which he had been charged;
nor did he know that Lord Woodhall, satisfied with his innocence, had
ceased to pursue him for the murder of his son. Condemned for one
offense which he had never committed; liable to be tried the moment he
returned for another of which he was equally innocent; and, moreover,
charged with a third, which was little less heinous in the eyes of the
court than murder or treason, he saw nothing before him but a long and
hopeless exile, the loss of all bright prospects, and the vanishing of
all his dreams of love. At the same time, gnawing care preyed upon
him. It may easily be supposed that he carried no great sum of money
with him. Almost all he possessed had been expended in the prison; the
fifty pounds which remained in Gaunt Stilling's hands from the money
given by Lady Danvers was nearly exhausted, and coming want stared him
in the face. Many an anxious consultation did he hold with Gaunt
Stilling as to what was to be done in the circumstances in which they
were placed; and but little comfort did he get from the servant, of a
kind that could be at all available. Stilling's reply always was, "Oh,
you will have money soon, sir, from England, and so shall I. I have
taken care to let the people know where we are, and they won't leave
us destitute. Your father will take care of you, and I have friends
who will look out for me."
"But I can not and will not bear to be a burden upon my father,"
replied Ralph; "I must seek out some employment here, in the service
of the state as a soldier, or in any other capacity for which I may be
suited. Methinks I will go to the Hague and see the Prince of Orange.
I can show him that I have had no share in this mad insurrection of
Monmouth's, and prove my innocence pretty well of all other crime. I
have letters, also, for several gentlemen at the Hague from the Duke
of Norfolk, and doubtless they will use their influence to obtain for
me some employment."
"Wait a little, sir--wait a little," was Gaunt Stilling's reply; "we
shall hear something from England soon. There is news that must be
sent to me, and that speedily. In the letter that brings them, we
shall most likely hear more of those in whom you take an interest."
He was not wrong in his anticipations. Ten days had hardly passed when
several letters reached Amsterdam for Ralph, and two for Gaunt
Stilling. Ralph's intelligence was joyful on all points but one. The
letters conveyed to him information that a full pardon had been
obtained for him on the charge of treason; that a nolle prosequi had
been entered by the attorney general in regard to the charge for
murder; and that Lord Woodhall was fully convinced, from evidence that
had been laid before him, of his innocence of the death of Henry
Woodhall. But it seemed, from the tenor of all the letters, that a
charge still hung over his head of having comforted and assisted a
Nonconformist clergyman, and attended a Dissenting conventicle, which
might subject him, if he returned unadvisedly, to lengthened
imprisonment. Several passages in these letters were somewhat obscure;
for his father, by whom one was written, did not seem to be aware that
he had made his escape without any knowledge of the pardon, and
Hortensia, who wrote to him likewise, though she appeared to have
comprehended at once how his flight to Holland had been effected,
alluded to the painful and unhappy circumstances in which he was
placed in terms which he thought hardly applicable to the mere chance
of his being tried for a very inferior offense.
A third letter, which surprised him much, was from his cousin, Lord
Coldenham. It was written in a frank, but not cheerful vein,
congratulating him on his escape from death, but urging him strongly
to return to England immediately. It assigned no motives on the part
of the young lord himself for pressing this point so strongly; but the
concluding words of the letter were, "For the sake of your own best
interests, Ralph--for the sake of your dearest hopes--come, and come
directly."
The effect of the intelligence he received upon his mind was to render
him thoughtful, but not sad; and he was still hesitating in some
degree how he should act, for his father's letter contained a
remittance which enabled him to act freely, when Gaunt Stilling joined
him with an expression of countenance which puzzled the young
gentleman a good deal. His brow was contracted with a heavy frown, but
his eyes were bright and sparkling, and there was a quivering sort of
eagerness about his lip at every word he spoke, which betrayed no
inconsiderable agitation within.
"Well, sir, what news?" he said, abruptly.
Ralph gave him a summary of the intelligence he had received, and the
man laughed rather wildly, saying, "Ay--is that all? better news than
mine."
"I am sorry to hear that you have had bad tidings," replied Ralph; "I
hope they are not of a very serious character."
"Family matters--family matters," answered Gaunt Stilling, walking
twice up and down the room. "The old man is ill, and well he may be--a
bad complaint, sir--a broken heart."
"I have just been pondering, Stilling," said Ralph, "whether it would
be better or not for me to return to England at once. My cousin, Lord
Coldenham, urges me strongly to do so, and if I do, we can go
together."
"Let me go first, sir," said Gaunt Stilling, quickly and eagerly. "You
shall soon hear more from me or of me--more than all the rest have
told you, I'll answer for it. As for myself, I must go, and this very
day. See what there is written to me;" and he put in Ralph's hand a
letter containing the following few words:
"Come back instantly. You are wanted here at once, for the great work
which must be done at length. I have refrained too long. I will
hesitate no longer. MORABER."
"This is strange," said Ralph, returning the letter.
"Not so strange as some tidings in this letter, sir," said Gaunt
Stilling, striking lightly the other he held in his hand. "However,
before I go, let me ask you one question, sir, which is of more
importance than you may think. I am very bold; but you will pardon me.
Are you to be married, as men say, to Lady Danvers?"
"Not the most remote chance of it," replied Ralph. "Have you too,
Stilling, been deceived by appearances, the deceitfulness of which
none could judge better? Neither Lady Danvers nor myself ever dreamed
of such a thing. She knows my heart too well, Stilling."
"Thank you, sir--thank you," said Gaunt Stilling, warmly; "and now
good-by."
"But is there such great haste?" said Ralph; "I would fain have an
hour or two's time for consideration as to whether I had better
accompany you or not."
"Better stay where you are, sir," replied Stilling, "for the present,
at least. I would not stop one hour after having received this letter
for more than King James could give. I owe this man, sir, a deep debt
of gratitude, which must be paid in whatever way he chooses."
"Besides," added Ralph, "I am deeply your debtor, Stilling, and I
would fain do something, however little is in my power."
"Never mind that, sir," said Stilling, slowly inclining his head with
a very significant gesture; "all debts, to me and from me, will soon
be paid. Fare you well, sir; may God speed you better when I have gone
from you than you have sped while I have been with you;" and, without
further leave-taking, he turned and quitted the room.
There was something very remarkable in his manner, a sort of sharp,
wild abruptness, which, in all the variations of his mood, and they
had been many, Ralph had never remarked before. He mused over the
matter for a moment or two, but we are too apt to look upon the signs
of suppressed passion in others as matters of no moment, not seeming
to comprehend that where emotion is so strong as to carry with it a
sense of the necessity of concealing it, the very temporary resistance
with which it meets only seems to concentrate its power, and it bursts
forth at length in act because it was denied expression in words.
After thinking over the character and conduct of Gaunt Stilling for a
few minutes in silence, Ralph dismissed the subject from his mind, and
returned to other thoughts. He wrote to his father, to Hortensia, and
to Margaret, without much hope, indeed, of finding an opportunity to
forward the letter to her in safety and with secrecy. He wrote, too,
to Lord Woodhall, repeating his assurance that he had never drawn his
sword against his cousin Henry, and buoying himself up with false and
flattering hopes that Margaret might still be his. To Hortensia and
his father, he judged it necessary, from the ambiguous expression in
their letters, to give a detailed account of his escape, as far as it
could be done without committing any of the persons engaged in it, and
assuring them both that he had never heard of the pardon till the
morning on which he wrote. Lord Coldenham's letter he reserved for
further consideration; and a gleam of peaceful hope seemed to break
upon him once more, after so many had passed away, overshadowed as
soon as seen.