About four hours after the period at which we closed the last chapter,
a number of persons were to be seen collected between the grove of
beech trees on the moor and the long sheet of shallow water called
Upwater Mere. They were of a varied and a motley character; for there
might be seen the worshipful and the honourable of the county on
horseback; and thence downward, going in progression through the
ownership of many a four-footed beast, appeared all classes of the
community, till you came to the poorest of poor labourers, who had not
even a cur to follow him.
At the head of the group, and leading its operations with pompous
dignity, appeared the portly persons of Sir Matthew Scrope and Sir
Thomas Waller; and behind them again, prompting their motions, though
appearing to submit to their will, were four other personages on
horseback; that is to say, their own joint clerk as justices of the
peace; Master Nicolas, clerk of the receiver of the county, whose
narrow escape from the hands of the Philistines we have recorded in
another place; Master Kinsight, attorney-at-law, agent and lawyer to
the Earl of Danemore; and a certain black-bearded, round-faced,
keen-eyed gentleman, strong, though not long, in limb, mounted upon a
spirited blood nag, with a certain knowing look both about master and
beast which betokened in each great acquaintance with the ways of the
world.
The lawyer Kinsight called him Master Bolland, and often commented to
him in a whisper upon the proceedings of the party they accompanied.
Bolland rarely made any verbal reply, but he looked volumes; and the
wink of his black eye was made, by its different characters, to express
almost as many things as Lord Burleigh's shake of the head.
The greater part of the body had come thither in procession from the
neighbouring county town. Some had joined it on the way, and some had
been found already waiting on the heath; but as soon as the whole party
was assembled by the side of the beech trees, a perquisition was
commenced in order to discover any ground which might seem to have been
recently moved; and, ere any very long search had been made, a part of
the thin green turf showed, amidst the rank blades of grass which
covered the ground beneath the trees, a quantity of scattered mould,
clearly indicating the spot they sought.
As soon as this discovery was made, a new difficulty presented itself.
It was found that, with a degree of foresight common to county
magistrates in those days, the worthy and worshipful knights who came
to exhume the body reported to be interred there, had forgotten to
order any spades, shovels, or pickaxes to be brought with them; and
there they were, in the midst of a wide moor, where no implement of the
kind was to be found within a mile or two. On the first mention of this
want, one of the more active of the lads who had accompanied the party,
set off as hard as his legs could carry him in the direction of the
little town of Moorhurst; but as that town was at several miles
distance, some of the other person present suggested that it would be
better to send up to the farm which had lately been taken by Farmer
Gray, just upon the edge of the moor; and while this suggestion was
actually being followed, a discussion naturally arose in regard to
Farmer Gray, his character, habits, appearance, station, fortune, and
farm.
"Ay, he has got a bad bargain of it," said a sturdy farmer in a white
smock frock, which concealed the greater part of a strong short-backed
pony that he bestrode; "ay, he has got a bad bargain of it; and if he
do not mind what he's about, he'll do for himself. I might have had the
farm for an old song if I had liked, but I'd have nothing to do with
such poor swampy stuff. Why, the place has been out of lease for two
years!"
"He'll do very well," grunted another of the same class. "I'm sorry I
did not take the place myself. He'll do very well; he comes from
Lincolnshire, and knows that sort of land. At least, I saw 'Franklin
Gray, Squash-lane, Lincolnshire,' upon one of his carts. He'll do very
well. He has the finest horses in the country, too."
"I wonder you call those fine horses, Master Brown," said a respectable
labourer, who overheard the conversation; "they are no more fitted for
hard work than my sick wife Jane; and as for the matter of that, Farmer
Gray will never be much liked hereabouts, for he's brought all his own
labourers with him, and that's a hard case upon the people of the
place. They say he has been a soldier, too; and I'm sure he don't look
like a farmer, or anything half as honest. Why, he goes about in a
laced jacket, like a gentleman; and I never saw him at market, not I."
"I'll tell you what," cried a sturdy drover who had joined the group,
"he's as good a judge of cattle, for all that, as any man in this
country. He knows a beast when he sees it, doesn't he! Why, he bought
half a score of me the other day, and paid me down, drink-money and
all, without a word."
Such were the comments that took place upon Franklin Gray, in one of
the groups into which the party had divided itself. Something similar,
with a very slight variation from the different class and character of
the speakers, was taking place amongst the rest; and all the little
investigating spirit which is excited by the arrival of a stranger in a
country place, especially if that stranger be somewhat reserved in his
habits, was exercising itself in regard to Franklin Gray, amongst the
whole of the assembly on the moor.
Lawyer Kinsight ventured to hint that he suspected Farmer Gray had been
a bankrupt in Lincolnshire before he came into their county; but this
was instantly contradicted by several others who had had dealings with
him, and who represented him as possessing all those excellent
qualities which gold invariably bestows upon its owner. Two or three of
the young men talked of Farmer Gray's beautiful wife, but declared she
was as coy and backward as if she had been old and ugly. Some had only
caught a sight of her; some had heard her speak; and some had never
even seen her, but were in raptures with her beauty on the mere report
of others. What between the rumours of the wife's beauty, the husband's
wealth, and the report of his wearing a laced jacket like a gentleman,
Sir Matthew Scrope and Sir Thomas Waller found the two organs of
curiosity and reverence in their respective brains considerably excited
regarding Franklin Gray, and they entered into slow and solemn
discussion as to whether, under existing circumstances, they should or
should not pay him a formal visit.
At the end of about half an hour, however, some one was seen coming
slowly across the moor on horseback, accompanied by two or three
others; and in due time appeared the person who had been sent for the
spades and shovels, accompanied by Franklin Gray himself, with two or
three men furnished with implements for digging. Gray was mounted on a
fine powerful horse, full of fire and activity, which he sat in a very
different manner from that in which the personages around him bestrode
their beasts; and there was something in his whole appearance and
demeanour which made the greater part of the men assembled take off
their hats as he rode up.
There was only one person present, with the exception of the drover,
who showed the slightest sign of recognition, and that was Master
Bolland, who gave a sudden start, and then turned pale, as the stern
fierce eye of Franklin Gray fixed, for a moment, full upon him, with a
meaning, perhaps a menacing, look. He ventured upon no other token of
acquaintanceship, however; and Gray, riding up at once to the
magistrates, bowed to them somewhat haughtily, and said, "I am happy to
hear, from this good man, that your worships have discovered the place
where the poor young nobleman's body has been concealed; indeed, I
expected no less from your known wisdom, as soon as I heard that you
had taken the matter in hand. I have now come down at once to offer you
every assistance in my power, and to say that I hope some means will be
immediately taken for putting a stop to all these terrible things that
are daily occurring in the county. Indeed, no one is so much interested
as I am; for, having taken this lone farm here, I am obliged to cross
the moor constantly, often with large sums about me, and it is but fit
that we should have protection under such circumstances."
"That it is, indeed, Master Gray," said Master Nicolas, the clerk, "I
am just in the same condition as yourself; and I hope at the very next
meeting of the magistrates something will be done."
"Depend upon it, depend upon it!" said Sir Matthew Scrope, "something
shall be done, Master Nicolas; something shall be done, Master Franklin
Gray! I should be very glad to confer with you on the subject, sir," he
added, addressing the latter, for whom his reverence was getting very
high; "and we will taste together my last year's cider, which is now
just in its prime. But now let us fall to work;" and he and the rest
accordingly dismounted from their horses, and directed the labourers to
dig up that part of the ground which bore marks of having been lately
moved.
Shovelful after shovelful of earth was thrown out, and the work had
proceeded some way, when, cantering quickly along the road, appeared
two or three persons, who proved to be Sir Walter Herbert and his
servants. The countenances of Sir Matthew Scrope and Sir Thomas Waller
immediately fell; and the first impulse of the former was to bid the
workmen suspend their proceedings; after which he turned to his
comrade, beckoned up the clerk and the Earl of Danemore's lawyer, and
held with them a quick whispering conference apart.
In the meanwhile, Sir Walter came up and dismounted from his horse,
while every head was uncovered around, and every face beamed with a
smile of pleasure and satisfaction to see him there.
"I have come," he said, "gentlemen, to be a witness of the execution of
that painful task which you have undertaken, and to see, perhaps for
the last time, the body of my poor young friend, Lord Harold, whose
death has unfortunately been made the pretext for accusing another
friend, not less noble and excellent, of a foul and horrible crime."
"Pretext, sir, pretext!" exclaimed Sir Thomas Waller; "I do not know
what you mean by pretext. Do you mean to charge me, sir? Do you mean to
insinuate, sir?--should such imputations as these go on, I shall
certainly order the work to be suspended, for we are not going to
proceed with this matter to be insulted."
"Sir Thomas," replied the other, "I have no intention of insulting you;
and the only effect of your ordering the work to be suspended will be,
that I shall order it to go on. You forget, sir, that I am not only a
magistrate, as well as yourself, but Lord of the Manor on which you
stand. Go on my good fellows, and make good speed!"
The men required no other authority, but with redoubled activity plied
their work, and in a few moments a long deal case was discovered,
rudely put together. The labourers tried to take the top off at once,
but they could not accomplish it, and after digging round it on all
sides, they lifted the heavy burden carefully out and laid it upon the
edge of the pit. The whole crowd gathered round, pressing somewhat
roughly upon the principal personages, who occupied the front stations
about the grave. Sir Matthew Scrope put on his spectacles, and rubbed
his hands, as if arriving near some long-desired consummation. Sir
Walter Herbert stood near the foot of the coffin, if it could be so
called, and gazed upon it with a brow of sorrow and something bright
glistening in his eye. Franklin Gray looked on sternly, with his arms
crossed upon his broad bull-like chest, and his brow gathered into a
heavy frown.
There was some difficulty in wrenching up the top. But at length one of
the labourers, forcing the spade between it and the sides, tore it
open, and exposed to view the ghastly spectacle of death within.
Those who were without saw nothing but the form of a dead man; but
amongst those who immediately surrounded the chest, there were
exclamations of surprise, which made the rest press forward to get a
nearer view, and it was then perceived by all who had known Lord Harold
that the body was that of a stranger. In the centre of the forehead was
a small round wound, spreading from which on every side was a dark
discoloured bruise, and a considerable quantity of blood had run down
and disfigured the face, on which it had been suffered to remain. Still
the features were sufficiently distinct to show every one that this was
not the corpse that they expected to find; and though each countenance
around was pale with agitation and awe, yet on the lip of Sir Walter
Herbert and of many others there appeared a smile of hope renewed.
That smile was almost immediately done away, however, when they could
look further, for across the breast of the dead man lay a paper, on
which was written, in a large bold hand "The punishment of him who shot
Edward Lord Harold."
The first who read the paper was the magistrate's clerk, and the words
were circulated in a low murmur from one to another around. But at the
same time Master Nicolas, the clerk to the receiver of the county,
pressed forward, as if moved by some sudden impulse, and getting as
near the head of the corpse as he could, he gazed eagerly in its face,
exclaiming, "It is! yes, I declare it is! It is the very same man whom
I saw lying on the road that night when the robbers laid hold of
Mistress Alice Herbert, and he was one of them, too, beyond all doubt."
"Doubtless it must be the same," said Franklin Gray, gravely. "I think
I never saw a more rascally countenance in my life, or one that seemed
more likely to deserve the fate that he has met with."
"His clothes are very good, however," said Sir Matthew Scrope; "they
don't look like those of a robber. Why, I declare there is as much lace
as would cost two or three marks any day."
"It's the same man, however," reiterated Master Nicolas; "that I will
swear to; and that he was a robber, there can be little doubt, from
what happened to Mistress Alice Herbert. Is it not so, Sir Walter?"
"Undoubtedly," replied Sir Walter. "There is no doubt--there can be no
doubt that robbery was their purpose. Nor is it improbable that this is
one of them. One man was wounded and disarmed by my excellent friend,
Captain Langford. The other was beaten down and stunned by the poor
innocent John Graves, and he it was, Master Nicolas, whom you saw upon
the road. Let all these matters be taken down," he continued, looking
round him for some one who was capable of the task.
"Where is the coroner?" Sir Walter demanded, abruptly, when he could
not discover that officer amidst those around. "He should have been
here. Why was he not summoned? When a body supposed to be murdered is
discovered buried in a lonely common like this, it is natural to ask,
where is the coroner? and to deprecate excessively his not being on the
spot. May I ask, Sir Matthew, whether, in all the informal and somewhat
extraordinary steps which you have thought fit to take, you have
remembered the simple one of calling to your aid the coroner of the
county?"
"Why, sir," replied Sir Matthew Scrope, in some confusion, "we were so
hurried to decide, we were so pressed onward for time, that I do not
know how it was, the coroner was forgotten."
"In short, sir," replied Sir Walter Herbert, "you forgot all except
that which might serve your own purpose: you forgot all except that
which might condemn an innocent man; and the regular course of justice
in the land was in no degree attended to! This must be remedied. I, as
a magistrate, must demand that the coroner be instantly sent for. He
should have witnessed the exhumation. He should have been present at
every step through all this business; and you, my good friends, the
yeomen of this county, will witness that in taking cognizance of all
these transactions, the proper officer of the crown has not been upon
the spot--has not received any summons to attend, and that, from the
very beginning to the close, two magistrates alone have conducted the
whole investigation, showing a great disinclination to any open inquiry
into their conduct or purposes."
"That we will!--that we will!" cried several voices; and one or two
persons from the little town of Moorhurst gave point to Sir Walter's
charge, by mentioning the name of Langford, and declaring that he had
won the love of all around him, instead of injuring anybody.
At the same time, however, the attorney was seen whispering eagerly to
Master Bolland, who on his part seemed to show some slight degree of
hesitation, listening silently to the promptings of the lawyer, eyeing
from time to time Sir Walter Herbert, and then scanning the crowd
around.
Sir Matthew Scrope by this time was at the end of his eloquence, and
though he swelled and coloured like an offended turkey-cock, he made no
reply to Sir Walter Herbert. The other magistrate, however, bristled up
in his own defence, vowed that what they had done in regard to Langford
was perfectly justifiable, and ended by striking his clenched fist upon
his thigh, and swearing, with not a very worshipful oath, that the
prisoner should be fully committed to the county gaol the very next
day, in spite of all the Walter Herberts in the land.
The old knight was about to reply, and probably in the heat of the
moment might have said things that he would afterwards have regretted;
but, during Sir Thomas Waller's angry declaration, Master Holland had
walked round; and now, with a thin slip of parchment in his hand, he
laid his finger on Sir Walter Herbert's shoulder, saying, "Sir Walter
Herbert, knight, I arrest you in the name of the sheriff of the county
of ----, at the suit of the Earl of Danemore."
The old man turned very pale, and put his hand to his head, saying,
"This is most strange, and most unhandsome!"
The people who stood around were all taken by surprise, and all felt
more or less a sensation of grief, compassion, and indignation, so that
there came a profound silence for the space of about a minute over the
whole multitude. Even Sir Matthew Scrope and Sir Thomas Waller gazed as
well as the rest with painful emotions in the pale but noble
countenance of the old Knight of Moorhurst, as, standing by the side of
the dead body which they had so lately disinterred, he felt a momentary
regret that he himself was not cold, and silent, and feelingless, like
it.
The silence lasted for about a minute, but then it was suddenly broken
by an unexpected event. One of the young farmers, who had been standing
by Bolland and the lawyer while they conversed, glanced from the
honoured countenance of Sir Walter Herbert to the shrewd, mean face of
Master Kinsight. He seemed to struggle during that temporary silence
with strong emotions; but then, giving way to a burst of unconquerable
indignation, he struck the lawyer a violent blow in the face, with his
clenched fist, exclaiming, "D--n thee! it is thou hast done all this
mischief!"
The lawyer was stretched by that one blow at his feet, with the blood
starting from his mouth and nostrils. A general commotion took place
amongst the people; violent hands were laid instantly upon Bolland.
They declared that "Sir Walter, good Sir Walter, should not be taken
from among them." The magistrates in vain endeavoured to interpose; and
the peasantry, trampling the lawyer under their feet, dragged the
sheriff's officer forward to the side of the Mere, declaring they would
half drown him for his pains, and do the same to Sir Matthew Scrope and
Sir Thomas Waller, if they did not get upon their horses and ride away
with all speed.
The warning was not lost upon them; but each, scrambling upon his
beast, and followed by their clerk and Master Nicolas, got out of the
affray as fast as they could, and made the best of their way back to
the county town, where they arrived as the evening was just closing in.
In the meanwhile, Bolland was saved from the fate prepared for him by
the voice of Sir Walter Herbert, who with much difficulty made himself
heard, and induced the peasantry to release the bailiff.
"Master officer," he added, as soon as he saw that the people had taken
their unwilling hands off Bolland, who, with his under-jaw stuck out
and his hat knocked off his head, remained standing with an air of
dogged determination by the side of the water, "Master officer, having
been appointed to see the law executed, I am not one to resist it, and
am ready to submit to your arrest this moment!"
"Hang me if thou shalt!" cried one of the farmers. "If that man put a
finger on thee again, I'll beat the soul out of him; so look to it,
bailiff! and with your leave, Sir Walter, we'll see you safe down to
your own house; for go with him you shan't, whether you like it or
not!"
Sir Walter looked with some degree of hesitation in the face of the
officer, who nodded as if to signify that he understood him, and then
replied aloud, "It's no use, sir, it's no use! The writ's gone to the
devil amidst these mad people, so you had better do what they would
have you."
"So be it then," replied Sir Walter Herbert; "and I doubt not ere
to-morrow to be able to raise funds to discharge this claim of Lord
Danemore's. But now let us look after that unworthy but unfortunate
man, Kinsight, whom I saw knocked down and trampled upon. My good
friends, you have been violent, much too violent, in this business. No
one has a right to interrupt the course of the law; far less to injure
those who, however ungenerously they may demean themselves, are not
overstepping its authority."
While Bolland slunk away, and, joining a group of people from the
county town who had held aloof from the affray, mounted his horse, and
made his way across the moor, Sir Walter returned to the spot where the
attorney had been knocked down, and beheld, with feelings of great pain
and anxiety, that though he still breathed, he was quite insensible,
and had evidently received various severe injuries. It was in vain that
he endeavoured to impress upon the peasantry about him that a great
wrong and a great crime had been committed.
The only answer he could obtain was, "It serves him right!" and with
difficulty he prevailed upon some of the labourers to place the hurt
man upon the cover of the large wooden case they had dug up, and to
carry him down to the small town of Moorhurst, in order to obtain
medical assistance. The body of the dead man which they had
disinterred, and which has been already recognised by the reader as
that of the robber, Wiley, was also carried down to Moorhurst; and,
before he even returned to the Manor House, Sir Walter despatched a
messenger to the coroner, briefly narrating the events that had
occurred.
While the rescue of Sir Walter Herbert was taking place, Franklin Gray
had remained looking on, with his arms folded on his chest, and an
expression of no slight satisfaction curling his lip. As soon as
Bolland, however, was set free and rode away, Gray threw himself upon
his horse again, and galloped after him over the moor. He overtook him
at the distance of about four miles from the county town, and called to
him by his name. It was evident from the countenance of Bolland, as he
turned round to see who it was that followed him, that he had no great
taste for Franklin Gray's society. The other, however, pushed on his
horse till he came upon a line with him; and then, just touching him
with the cane he carried in his hand, he said, "Stop a moment, Master
Bolland; I want a word with you."
"Do you mean really to say _stop?_" demanded Bolland, with a grim
smile. "How am I to take you, Captain?"
"Why, not in the sense you're afraid of," answered Gray. "I only want
to ask you a question. Are you fully aware, Master Bolland, that I
could hang you to-morrow, if I liked it?"
Bolland hesitated, but then replied, "Why, perhaps I could do the same
good turn for you, Captain."
"That would be difficult," answered Gray. "I know my own fate, Master
Bolland: and though there is no fear of my ever dying in my bed, like a
consumptive school-girl, there is as little chance of my dying on a
scaffold. As to you, you are as sure of being hanged as if the rope
were now round your neck;[1] but I, for my part, have no wish to put it
there, and I want a plain answer to my simple question. Are you fully
aware that I could hang you to-morrow, if I liked it?"
---------------
[Footnote 1: He was, indeed, tried some years afterwards for forgery
and made a very brilliant defence on his trial, which however availed
him nothing. He was hanged for the offence, which was one of the least
crimes he had committed, and at his death were disclosed a thousand
acts of infamy which had been perpetrated by him under the mantle of
our dreadful law of imprisonment for debt.]
---------------
"To be candid with you. Master Gray," replied Bolland, "I believe you
might, if you have still got a certain awkward piece of paper in your
hands; but I think it would be a dangerous matter for you to undertake,
for I might give the beaks a clue----"
"That has nothing to do with the question," rejoined Gray; "all I
wanted to be sure of was that you knew how we stood towards each other.
I like to have some hold upon gentlemen of your cloth, who think fit to
look as if they had seen me before."
"Oh, I am a man of honour, Captain," replied Bolland; "you know I would
not do an unhandsome thing by a gentleman for the world."
"I am now quite sure that you would not do so by me," replied Gray; "so
good night, Master Bolland." And thus speaking, he turned his horse and
galloped off over the moor, upon which the shades of night were now
rapidly descending.