THE ELOPEMENT.
Let us now return to Rainford, whom we left on his way back to London,
after having so triumphantly eased the vain-glorious Mr. Frank Curtis of
the two thousand pounds.
The highwayman,—for such indeed was the gay, generous-hearted, and brave
Tom Rain,—scarcely condescended to bestow even a chuckle of satisfaction
upon a victory so easily won—an exploit so readily accomplished.
He would have valued the prize far more, had it been obtained by means
of hard blows and as the result of a desperate encounter; for the love
of adventure was inherent in his disposition—and he had often courted
danger in his life, for the exciting pleasure of freeing himself from
its intricacy.
Having galloped his good steed to the beginning of the lane, he checked
its celerity, and then proceeded at a moderate pace along the main road
to the public-house where Curtis and himself had stopped to purchase
their cigars about half an hour previously.
Riding up to the door of the little establishment, the highwayman leapt
from his horse, and threw the reins to a dependant of the place who was
conversing with the postillion of a chaise and pair that had stopped at
the door.
When Rainford sauntered leisurely up to the bar, with his chimney-pot
hat set rakishly on one side, his white coat comfortably buttoned up,
and his riding-whip in his hand, the landlord instantly recollected him
again, and observed, as he drew the liquor which the highwayman ordered,
"Back to London, sir, to-night?"
"Yes," replied Tom carelessly: "I just escorted my friend as far as
Torrens Cottage, and shall now get home again."
These words produced a visible emotion on the part of a tall, handsome,
dark-haired young man, who was also standing at the bar. He was well
protected by a great coat against the cold; and Tom therefore very
naturally concluded that he was the traveller journeying in the
post-chaise outside.
"Torrens Cottage!" cried the landlord. "Why, I do declare that's the
very ticket. This gentleman here was just making inquiries whether I had
any one that could take a note there in a confidential way."
The landlord blurted forth this announcement without heeding the
significant coughs and "hems" of the tall young gentleman, who seemed
greatly annoyed that the object of his call at the public-house should
thus be published to the very first stranger who entered the place after
him.
"You should keep a closer tongue in your head," said Tom Rain. "How do
you know what harm might be done by your stupidity in letting out the
gentleman's business in this kind of way? Fortunately, I am not the kind
of fellow to do mischief; and in this case, it may be, that I can effect
some good."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the tall young gentleman, his countenance suddenly
exchanging the expression of annoyance which the landlord's garrulity
had excited, for one indicative of hope and joy.
"Yes—I think so," said Tom. "But we must have a few words in private."
"Walk into the parlour, gentlemen," cried the landlord. "There's no one
in that room at present."
Rainford and the tall stranger followed this suggestion; and when the
door was closed behind them, the highwayman said, "If I am not very much
mistaken, you must be the gentleman whom that lying braggart Frank
Curtis is endeavouring to cut out?"
"My name is Clarence Villiers, sir," was the guarded reply.
"And you are the lover of Mr. Torrens's eldest daughter," continued
Rainford. "Now do not waste valuable time by reflecting whether you
shall make me your confidant, or not. I am disposed to serve you: tell
me how I can do it."
"You will excuse me," said Villiers in a polite but somewhat reserved
tone, "if I first request to be informed to whom I have the honour of
speaking."
"Captain Sparks," was the immediate reply. "I happen to know old Sir
Christopher and his precious nephew; and I rode down with them nearly as
far as the cottage. But I did not accept their invitation to go in—for
particular reasons of my own. You may, however, suppose that I am well
acquainted with all the particulars of this infamous case. Miss Adelais
Torrens loves Mr. Clarence Villiers and hates Mr. Frank Curtis; but Mr.
Frank Curtis is the successful suitor with the mercenary father, because
a certain five thousand pounds——"
"Enough, Captain Sparks!" ejaculated Villiers. "I see that you do indeed
know all. And will you serve me in this strait?"
"I will—honour bright!" cried Tom. "There's my hand upon it. Now say
what is to be done. It is already past eight o'clock," he added, after a
hasty reference to a handsome gold watch which he drew from his fob.
"My object was to obtain an interview with Adelais in some way or
another, and urge her to—to——"
"Speak plainly, my friend," cried Rain. "To elope with you. Well?—do you
mean every thing that is honourable?"
"As God is my judge," said the young man solemnly. "I have frequently
urged the dear girl to consent to a clandestine marriage with me; but
the purity of her soul has ever revolted against a course which she
considers to be marked with duplicity."
"Where would you convey her during the interval that must necessarily
elapse before you can marry her?" asked Rainford. "Because, as she is a
minor, I suppose you could not obtain a special licence without her
father's consent."
"I have an aunt in London devoted to my interests," answered Clarence;
"and she would receive her with even maternal affection until I should
acquire a legal right to protect her."
"So far, so good," observed Tom. "And yet a young lady eloping at night
with a young man——remember, I am only speaking for the good of both of
you."
"I had foreseen that difficulty also," said Villiers hastily. "The fact
is, Adelais and her sister Rosamond are so linked together by the
tenderest bonds of affection, that the one would not move a step
unaccompanied by the other."
"The devil!" cried Rainford: "two ladies to carry off! That increases
the embarrassment of the business. Now it is very clear that it is
perfectly useless for us to send a messenger down with a note: it would
be intercepted by the father. But if you will sit down and write what
you choose, I will undertake to have it delivered to the young lady
herself."
"You?" exclaimed Clarence joyfully.
"Yes: what I promise, I will perform," said Rainford. "Follow my
directions—and all shall go well."
Clarence rang the bell, ordered writing materials, and in a few minutes
completed a note to his beloved Adelais, which he read to his companion.
"Seal it," said Tom; "because it may pass through the hands of another
person, after it leaves mine, and before it reaches Miss Torrens."
This suggestion was instantaneously complied with; and Rainford secured
the letter about his person.
"Now," he continued, after a moment's reflection, "do you proceed with
the chaise down the lane, and stop as near the cottage as is consistent
with prudence. I shall retrace my way there at once. Fear nothing—but
wait patiently at the place where you pull up, until I make my
appearance."
Villiers promised to fulfil these instructions; and Rainford, having
taken a temporary leave of him, remounted his horse and galloped towards
Torrens Cottage.
The highwayman had his plan of proceeding ready digested by the time the
white walls of the building, rendered particularly conspicuous in the
starlight, met his view.
Alighting from his horse at a distance of about a hundred yards, he tied
the animal to a tree, and then repaired towards the dwelling.
Having reconnoitred the premises, he speedily discovered the stable;
and, to his infinite joy, a light streamed from one of the windows of
that building.
Leaping over the palings which separated the kitchen-garden from the
adjacent fields, Tom Rain proceeded to the stable; and there, as he had
anticipated, he found John Jeffreys, the groom, busily employed with his
master's horses.
John was alone; and his surprise was great, when, upon being tapped on
the shoulder, he turned round and beheld the highwayman.
"Silence!" said Tom in a whisper; "we have no time to lose in idle
chatter. Here's five guineas for you; and you must get this note
conveyed secretly to Miss Torrens—Adelais, the eldest—you know."
"It shall be done, sir," replied Jeffreys. "I am already far in the good
graces of the housemaid; the cook is old and deaf; and so there's no
fear of my not being able to succeed."
"Good. And you will bring me the answer up the lane, where I shall wait
for you."
"And how can you read it, when you get it?" demanded Jeffreys. "The
night is not quite clear enough for that."
"The answer will be a verbal one—_yes_ or _no_," replied Tom.
Jeffreys promised that no delay should occur on his part; and Rainford
retraced his steps to the spot where he had left his horse.
Many novelists would here pause for the honest but somewhat tedious
purpose of detailing all the reflections which passed through the mind
of Rainford during the mortal half-hour that elapsed ere the sounds of
footsteps upon the hard soil announced the approach of some person. But
as we do not wish either to spin out our narrative with dry material, or
to keep the reader in any unnecessary suspense, we will at once declare
that at the expiration of the aforesaid thirty minutes John Jeffreys
made his appearance at the appointed spot.
"What news?" demanded Tom impatiently.
"All right——"
"And the answer?"
"Is _yes_."
"That's well!" exclaimed Rainford. "You may now go back, John. All that
I require of you is done."
"But I have something to say to _you_, sir," observed the servant. "Just
now, Sir Christopher sent for me up into the parlour to give me some
orders; and I heard Mr. Frank, who is uncommon far gone with
brandy-and-water, making a boast to the lawyer-fellow that he'd walk all
round the grounds to see that every thing is safe. It seems that the
lawyer has been twitting him about his little business with you just now
up the lane, you know; and so Mr. Frank is as bumptious as possible. I
only thought I'd better tell you of this—in case you've any business in
hand that's likely to keep you about the place."
"I am very much obliged to you, John," said Rainford. "Here's another
five guineas for you—and I shall not forget to speak to Old Death in
your favour. But you had better get back as soon as you can, for fear
you should be missed."
Jeffreys thanked the highwayman for the additional remuneration, and
returned to the cottage.
It was now past nine o'clock, and Rainford murmured to himself, "I
wonder how much longer they will be?"
His horse, which was a high-spirited animal, began to grow impatient of
this long stoppage; and he himself shivered, in spite of the good great
coat, with the nipping chill.
Another quarter of an hour elapsed; and, to the infinite joy of Tom
Rain, he suddenly beheld two female figures, well muffled in shawls and
furs, emerge from the obscurity at a short distance.
"All right, ladies," he said, in as loud a voice as he dared use
consistently with prudence.
Adelais and Rosamond hurried towards him, as affrighted lambs to their
shepherd; and yet, when they were close to him, they seemed unable to
utter a word.
"Fear not, ladies," exclaimed the highwayman. "I am the friend to whom
Mr. Villiers alluded in his note."
"Save us, then, sir—save us," said Adelais, in an urgent and imploring
tone; "for Mr. Curtis saw us leave the house: he was in the garden——"
At that moment the sounds of voices were heard in the direction of the
cottage; and they were evidently approaching.
"Hasten up the lane, young ladies—hasten, for God's sake!" said Tom
Rain. "Mr. Villiers is there with the post-chaise—and I will remain here
to bar the way."
Adelais and Rosamond could not even give utterance to the thanks which
their hearts longed to express: terror froze the words that started to
their lips; and, not daring to glance behind them, they hurried up the
lane.
Tom Rainford now mounted his horse, and took his station in the middle
of the way; for several persons were rapidly approaching from the house.
In a few moments they were near enough to enable Rainford to catch what
they said.
"The disobedient—self-willed girls!" exclaimed one, whom Tom was right
in supposing to be Mr. Torrens.
"But wasn't it fortunate that I twigged them?" said Curtis. "Egad!——"
"It will be much more fortunate if we overtake them," observed the
lawyer.
"Bless me!—I'm out of breath," cried Sir Christopher. "I wish John would
come on with the horses. Did you tell him, Frank?"
"To be sure I did. We cannot fail to overtake them. But, poor things!
suppose that highwayman should fall in with them—and me not there to
defend them!"
"I think it would be all the same——"
Howard was interrupted by a sudden ejaculation on the part of Mr.
Torrens, who was a few paces in advance of the others, but who now
abruptly came to a full stop.
"What is it?" demanded Curtis, shaking from head to foot, in spite of
all the liquor he had imbibed during the day.
"Some ruffian on horseback—there—don't you see?" exclaimed Mr. Torrens.
"But I am not afraid of him: his presence here is in some way connected
with my daughters."
And the incensed father rushed furiously towards the highwayman.
"Stand back!" cried Tom in his clear, stentorian voice; and this command
was followed by the sharp clicking of the two pistols which he cocked.
"The robber!" exclaimed Frank Curtis, clinging to the coat-tails of Mr.
Torrens, who had retreated a few paces at the ominous sound of the
pistols. "At him, my dear sir—at him! I'm here to help you."
"Villain—give up the two thousand pounds, and we will let you go—on _my_
honour as a knight!" ejaculated Sir Christopher, keeping as far remote
as he deemed prudent from the sinister form which, wrapped in the white
great coat, and seated composedly on the tall horse, seemed, amidst the
obscurity of the night, to be a ghost disdaining to touch the earth.
"I am very much obliged to you for your kindness, Sir Christopher," said
Tom: "but I am not at all in fear of the necessity of purchasing my
liberty at any price whatsoever. I however give you every one due
warning, that the first who tries to pass this way——"
"Scoundrel! my daughters—where are they?" vociferated Mr. Torrens.
"That's it—give it him!" cried Frank Curtis. "I'll be at him when you've
done."
"Go on at once," cried Howard.
"And why are you standing idle there?"
"Because it is not my business to interfere."
"Well done, lawyer!" exclaimed Tom. "No fees can recompense you for an
ounce of lead in the thigh: for if I do fire, I shall only try to
lame—not kill."
"Mr. Curtis—Sir Christopher—will you not help me to arrest this villain
who beards us to our very faces?" exclaimed Torrens, in a towering
passion.
And again he rushed forward, while Frank Curtis beat a precipitate
retreat behind his uncle.
"Stand back! or, by God, I'll fire!" thundered Rainford, suddenly
spurring his horse in such a manner that the length of the animal was
made to block up nearly the entire width of the bye-lane.
"You dare not murder me!" cried Torrens. "My daughters will escape!"—and
he attempted to pass in front of the horse.
But by a skilful manœuvre, Rainford baffled him—arrested his
progress—and kept him at bay, using all the time the most desperate
menaces, which he did not, however, entertain the remotest idea of
putting into execution.
"Mr. Curtis, sir—will you help me?" cried the infuriate father. "My
daughters are escaping before your very eyes—you are losing your
bride——"
"And you the rest of the money that was to have purchased her," said
Rainford coolly. "Mercenary old man, you are rightly punished."
With these words, the highwayman suddenly wheeled his horse round, and
disappeared in a moment.
He had succeeded in barring the way for upwards of ten minutes against
the pursuers of the two fugitive ladies; and he calculated that in less
than half that time they must have reached the post-chaise which
Clarence Villiers had in readiness to receive them.
Jeffreys had purposely delayed getting the horses out; and even when he
did appear with them, several minutes had elapsed since the highwayman
had left the path free to those who thought fit to avail themselves of
the services of the animals.
These were only two—Mr. Torrens and Jeffreys himself: the latter
volunteering his aid for the purpose of misleading and embarrassing the
father, rather than of assisting him.
Frank Curtis affected to be suddenly taken very unwell: Sir Christopher
was really so; and the lawyer, although by no means a coward, did not
see any utility in hazarding his life against such a desperate character
as Captain Sparks (for by that denomination only did he know Tom Rain)
appeared to be.
Thus, while the knight, his nephew, and the attorney retraced their
steps to the cottage, leading back the horses which had been brought out
for their use, Mr. Torrens and Jeffreys galloped away towards London.