CHAPTER XXIII.

We must go back for a few hours. The sky was without a star, and a dull

heavy darkness brooded over the face of the earth, as a strong party of

horsemen--whose numbers and appearance might well banish all fears, and

laugh to scorn all the tales of highwaymen and footpads with which the

county of ---- then rang, took its way down the road which first led

from the county town towards Danemore Castle, and thence passing under

the walls of the park, proceeded to the little borough of Moorhurst.

The part of the road on which they were at the moment when we must

first speak of them, passed between two high banks of sand rock,

overtopped with trees and shrubs, so that if there had been any light

in the sky it would have been shut out from that spot; and the person

who rode at their head, and seemed to act as their leader, chose the

gloomiest point for the purpose of causing the line to halt, and

speaking a few words in a low tone to each of his companions. They

answered in a whisper, as if the deep darkness and silence around had

its usual effect in producing awe; and when each had listened and

replied, their leader once more advanced to the front, and they

recommenced their journey two and two. Descending slowly from the

moors, they emerged into a more open country; and any one who had been

by the side of the road might have counted their number as eleven,

notwithstanding the darkness of the night, and might also have observed

that, generally speaking, they were tall and powerful men, and sat

their horses with a degree of ease and composure only to be acquired by

long acquaintance with the saddle.

We have remarked before, that the country in that district is famous

for little greens of an acre or two in extent, generally shaded by some

tall elms, and often adorned by a bright gleaming pond. To one of these

the party that we speak of had advanced; and though there was a cottage

at the further side of the green, all was silent and still, when the

word to halt was suddenly given, and the voice of the leader was heard

in a low tone, saying, "Spread out to the right and left, under the

trees. I hear a horse's feet!"

The evolution that he commanded was executed in a moment, with the most

profound silence, each horseman separating from his neighbour and

taking ground some yards to the right and left, without any of that

pawing and prancing which give pomp and circumstance to many a military

man[oe]uvre. The proceedings of the leader himself, however, were even

more remarkable; for, advancing perhaps twenty yards before the rest,

he also quitted the road for the green turf, and then his dim figure

was seen to dismount. The next moment, horse and man seemed to sink

slowly down into the earth, and nothing but what appeared to be a small

rise in the ground was seen through the darkness, marking the spot

where they had stood.

While all this was taking place, the sound of a horse's feet beating

the road with a quick trot was heard advancing from that side towards

which the party had been going, and after a pause of about two minutes,

a white horse, bearing his rider at a rapid rate, could be discerned

entering upon the green. The horseman advanced some way, unconscious of

the neighbourhood of so many others, but apparently not quite

insensible to fear, as from time to time his head was turned to either

side; and at length it would seem that he caught a glance of something

unusual beneath the elm trees, for he suddenly pulled up his horse, and

gazed anxiously into the gloom before him.

His eyes were keen, having been for some time habituated to the

darkness; and becoming convinced that there was a considerable party

assembled on either side, he was turning his bridle to gallop off on

the same road by which he came, when suddenly what he had passed as a

mere mound of earth and bushes started up into life, and his retreat

was cut off by a man springing upon a horse which rose as if magically

from the ground, and darting into the road before him.

"Stop!" cried a stern voice, while the gleam of something like a pistol

in the hand of his opponent made the rider of the white horse recoil.

He looked round, however, to see if there were no means of evading

obedience to the command he had received; but by this time he found

that he was surrounded, and that the way even to the low cottage by the

side of the common was cut off. At the same time the command was

repeated, "Stop, and give an account of yourself!"

The additional injunction, however, of "Give an account of yourself!"

was rather satisfactory to the rider, who perceived therein a sort of

police tone, rather than that generally employed by the worthies whom

he most apprehended, and who to the word "stop!" usually added,

"deliver!"

He replied, then, with a greater degree of confidence, saying, "I am a

servant of the noble Earl of Danemore, and I am riding to the town

of ----, by his orders, on particular business."

"Show me the badge upon your arm!" said the person who had first

spoken; but the servant was obliged to acknowledge that he had come

away in haste, and had not his livery coat on.

"You have some cords," said the same voice, addressing one of the other

horsemen. "Tie him, and bring him along."

In a moment the unfortunate groom found himself seized, and his arms

pinioned behind his back, while a still more disagreeable operation,

that of tying his feet and legs tight to the stirrups, was performed by

another of his captors, who dismounted for the purpose.

Not a word was spoken by any one but the leader of the party, and when

he saw that the commands he had given were obeyed, he added, "Bring him

up abreast with me?" and then riding on at the same glow pace in which

they had been proceeding previous to the little episode which had taken

place, he asked several questions of his captive in a low voice.

"We shall soon see," said he, "whether your account of yourself is true

or not, for we are going to the Castle. Now tell me, how long do you

say you have left it?"

"About half an hour, sir," replied the man, resuming a certain degree

of courage on finding that he was not injured; "about half an hour,

sir; and I can tell you that my lord will be mighty angry when he finds

you have stopped me, and brought me back. He will make the house too

hot to hold you, and the county too, that I'll warrant. You don't know

whom you have got to deal with. He suffers no one to do anything but

what he likes."

"Is the Earl of Danemore still up?" demanded the stranger, calmly,

taking not the slightest heed of the other's intimation.

"Yes, that he is, and will not be in bed for these two hours, as you

will find to your cost, perhaps, when he hears you have stopped me,"

answered the groom, firmly believing that what was awful to him must be

equally so to every one else.

"Does he not usually go to rest sooner?" asked the stranger again. "I

understood that the whole household were required to be in bed by

eleven, and I was afraid that we might have to rouse the porter to give

us admittance."

"Ay, he generally does go to bed at eleven," answered the groom, "but

he has not done so to-night. You will have to rouse the porter,

however, and most of the other servants too; for old John came out,

growling and swearing at me, in his shirt, when I made him open the

gates."

"He must not swear at us, though," replied the other quietly, but in a

tone which moved the groom's astonishment even more than anything which

had passed before, so little reverence did his captors show either for

the awful name of the Earl of Danemore or any of his dependants. As the

other ceased, however, and did not resume the conversation, he had no

choice but to accompany him in silence; and, followed by the rest of

the party, they proceeded slowly on the road, which was evidently well

known to the leader, now winding in and out amongst the high banks and

woods, now crossing scattered pieces of the heath and moor-land, till

at length they arrived at that spot under the walls of the park where,

as we have mentioned in describing the forced journey of Langford,

Danemore Castle, with its wide extent of park and woods, became first

visible to the eye of any one travelling on the road from Moorhurst to

the county town.

There the leader of the party halted, and suffering his hands to drop

thoughtfully upon the saddle-bow, he gazed up towards the spot where

the Castle stood. At that dark hour, however, nothing was to be

perceived but the masses of tall trees with which the building itself

was confounded in undistinguished shade, except, indeed where a single

spot of light was seen gleaming like a beacon, marking that there was

the habitation of some human beings amongst the dark and awful-looking

blackness which the scene otherwise presented.

After thus gazing for a few minutes, the leader of the party turned

towards the groom, and while he reined back his horse to the other side

of the road, said, with something of a sneer, "We will save old John

the porter the trouble of opening the gate for us." At the same moment,

the well-trained horse which he rode, feeling a touch of the spur,

started forward towards the wall, cleared it with ease, and horse and

rider stood within the boundaries of the park.

"I can't leap with my hands and legs tied!" cried the groom, whose

first feelings were those of an equestrian; "that's impossible; I shall

break my own neck and the horse's knees."

"You shan't be required to leap," was the reply of the leader, from the

other side of the wall; and then, turning towards one of his

companions, he added, "You must manage to pull it down, Harvey."

"I will leap it first, however!" replied his companion, and away went a

second horse and man over the wall. No sooner was this done than

several of the other horsemen dismounted, and with short bars of iron,

which each of them appeared to have slung at their saddle-bow, they set

to work upon the wall of the park, and in less than a quarter of an

hour the space of three yards was laid level between the road and the

park.

The whole of the troop then passed in, taking the groom along with

them; and, riding slowly up to a clump of old chestnuts at the distance

of about three hundred yards from the terrace on which the mansion

stood, they gathered themselves together in a group under the boughs,

and their leader, advancing a few steps, again gazed steadfastly upon

the Castle, whose towers and pinnacles were now to be more clearly

distinguished rising here and there above the trees, and marking, with

the straight lines of the older architecture, or the light tracery of

the more modern and ornamental parts, the sky beyond, over which a pale

gleam cast by the rising moon was just beginning to spread itself.

Gradually, as he sat there on horseback, the beautiful orb of night

rose up from behind the trees, and with her peculiar power of

dispersing the clouds and shadows that obstruct her way, she was seen

struggling with and overcoming the vapours of the night; sometimes,

like a veiled but still lovely countenance, beaming through a thin film

of white mist which grew radiant with her radiance; sometimes hidden

for a single instant behind a dark mass which swept over her with

gilded edges; sometimes bursting forth from a dark cloud, with pure

effulgence, like sudden joy succeeding despair.

As he sat there, with the varying light of the moon falling upon him,

now casting his long shadow upon the soft green turf of the park, now

leaving him distinct, and as it were magnified by the dim misty light,

the powerful form of that horseman was scanned eagerly and

apprehensively by the groom, on whose mind but little doubt remained in

regard to the character and propensities of the party whose unwilling

companion he had become, he thought he had never seen a more powerful

frame, and in so thinking he was right; but the imagination of terror

had had a great deal to do with the business, when he called him in his

heart "the most ruffian-like fellow that his eyes had ever rested on."

After about ten minutes' contemplation, during which not a word was

spoken by any one, and not a sound was heard but the low sighing of the

wind through the neighbouring trees, and the scream of the screech owls

which nested themselves in the old ivy of the Castle, the leader

returned to his party, saying, "I would fain have that light put out

first; but, however, we cannot stay wasting all our time here. Now, my

good fellow," he continued, turning to the groom, "I want one or two

pieces of information from you; but before you answer, you had better

take into consideration that you are speaking to a person not willing

to be trifled with; that if you do not answer straightforwardly and at

once, your life is not worth five minutes' purchase; and that if you

give me false information you will be as surely a dead man within two

hours as you are now a living one. In the first place, then, inform me,

in what part of the house do the servants sleep?"

"Why, up at the top, to the westward," replied the man; "that is where

the serving men sleep; but there are others, such as the sewers, and

the grooms of the chambers, who sleep at the top of Hubert's Tower.

Then there's my lord's own man sleeps in his ante-room; but to-night

there are two or three who were ordered to stay in the outer room where

the prisoner is, in the old tower; that is to say, in what they used to

call the haunted rooms, for they were always shut up, and nobody went

in but my lord and Mistress Bertha, so that folks said that the ghost

of the Countess used to walk there."

"So there are three men appointed to sleep there, are there?" demanded

the other; "you are sure of the fact?"

"Why, no," replied the groom; "if you mean whether I am sure they were

ordered to sleep there, I'm sure enough of that; but I am quite as sure

that not one of them will do it; for I heard Will Hudson say that the

Earl might skin him alive first. No, no; they'll none of them stay

there after twelve o'clock at night, I'll answer for it."

"That is sufficient on that score," said the interrogator; "now tell me

further, now many men in all may there be in the Castle?"

The groom paused for a moment, as if in thought, but then answered,

"Some fifteen or sixteen that sleep within doors; but then there are

all the grooms and horse-boys, and my lord's three coachmen, and the

running footmen, who sleep at the stables, which you know lie out

by----"

"I know, I know," interrupted the other. "Not more than fifteen or

sixteen; fifteen or sixteen lackeys!" he continued, turning with a sort

of contemptuous laugh to his companions; "it is scarcely worth while

priming our pistols. Are there none of them sleep below?"

"Why, no; not by rights," replied the man, "except the porter and his

boy, but to-night there will be Willy Hudson and the rest, who, I dare

say, will come down into the corridor and sleep in the armchairs; and

then, too, there is Fat Frank, who has got Silly John in charge, shut

up in the dark room at the bottom of Hubert's Tower."

"Silly John!" exclaimed the other; "what does he do there?"

"Why, he would not tell, I hear," answered the groom, "who were the

people whom he had seen bury my young lord under the beech trees by

Upwater Mere, so my lord ordered him to be shut up in the dark room,

without either meat or drink, till he did; and if he don't tell, hang

me if he don't starve to death, for my lord's not one to go back from

what he has once said."

As the man spoke, the person who had been thus questioning him moved

his hand with a rapid and impatient gesture to the holster at his

saddle-bow, plunged it in, and pulling out a pistol, thrust it into his

belt. He muttered also a few words in a hurried tone, which could only

be heard by himself; but then again, appearing to recover from some

impatient feelings, he continued, "One word more, my good fellow. Is

not the small wicket door, at the back of the western wing, very often,

if not always, left open all night?"

The man hesitated, and showed evident signs of a disinclination to

reply.

"It is, sometimes," he said at length, "but not always."

"I ask you," continued the other, "did you ever know it shut?"

"Yes, I think so. I don't know. I can't tell," replied the groom, with

manifest hesitation, at what he felt to be betraying the way into his

lord's mansion.

"He prevaricates," said one of the men behind; "he prevaricates; shall

I blow his brains out, Captain?"

"Not yet," replied their leader, calmly. "Do you intend to answer, or

not? Did you ever in your life know that door shut?"

"No. I didn't; no, I didn't," answered the groom. "It's always open;

that's the truth."

"Very well, then," continued the other. "If I remember right, when one

goes straight forward from that door, and then turns along the first

passage to the left, it leads to the little hall, out of which a

passage takes to the foot of the great stairs. Now, there are two other

doors, one of which leads to the private staircase going to the Earl's

apartments. Which of those two doors is it; the right or the left; for

I forget? Your life is at stake," he added, in a warning tone.

There was a sound like the clicking of a pistol-lock behind him, and

the man replied without the loss of a single moment, "It is the door to

the left. I tell you true, upon my word."

"I dare say you do," replied the other; "if you don't, so much the

worse for you. You will remain here till I come back; and you know what

will happen to you if you have made any mistake in this business.

Harvey, learn from him exactly the way to the room where the poor silly

man has been put. You and Hardcastle must undertake to set him free;

then join me with all speed at the point you know. You, Williams and

Erith, stay with this man and the horses; and if you should have such

reason to believe that he has told me a falsehood as to induce you to

leave the spot, give him a couple of ounces of lead in his head before

you go. You understand me. I know a word is sufficient with you."

"But, Captain," exclaimed the man whom he called Erith, "why should I

not go with you? Curse me if I like to be left here, holding the horses

like a groom. Why must not I go?"

"Because I appoint you to a post of trust and danger," answered his

leader; "there is more to be apprehended from without than from within;

judgment of what intelligence it may be necessary to give me, too, is

wanted, and, therefore, I choose you. But to end all in one word,

Erith," he added, seeing the other about to reply, "you must stay here,

because I direct you to do so; I, who never yet found you unwilling to

obey at once, in moments of action and peril!"

"That's the way you always come over me, Captain," replied his

companion; "however, I suppose I must do as you bid me, having stood by

your side in many a moment of life and death work."

"And always acted like a lion, where it was needful," answered his

leader, holding out to him his hand, which the other grasped eagerly.

"God bless you, Erith!" he added; "there is something tells me we shall

not be long together. If we part for the last time to-night, remember

that I love you, and that I think even now of the watch-fire of

Kaiser-lautern, when, wounded yourself, you brought cup after cup of

cold water to your wounded Captain's lips."

Thus saying he dismounted from his horse, and eight of his comrades

followed his example. The well-trained beasts were then ranged in a

line, and a single rope run through the bridles seemed all that was

necessary to keep them together till their riders' return. One end of

the rope was tied to a tree, the other to the last horse's bit; and

after gazing for one moment more at the light in the window of the

tower, across which a dark figure was seen to pass twice, the leader

gave a signal with his hand. The whole party then began silently to

descend the hill, with the exception of the two who had been appointed

to remain with the horses and the unhappy groom, whose terror had now

grown to such a pitch, that, had it not been for the lashings with

which he was attached to his horse, he could not have sat the animal,

although it remained as quiet and passive as if it had never known any

other stable than that of a farmer's mule.

With eager eyes and a beating heart the man marked the party descend

the hill, emerge from the shadow of the trees, cross the dewy grass,

which glistened like frost-work in the full beams of the moon, ascend

the opposite rise, and then take their way amongst the trees behind,

towards the back of the building where they proposed to effect their

entrance. It was certain that the property of his lordly master was at

stake at that moment, and perhaps also the lives of several of his

comrades; but yet the worthy domestic felt little or no agitation upon

that score. All that affected him, all he thought of, as would too

naturally be the case with most of the human worms which crawl about in

this state of being, was his own situation, his own danger. He knew, he

felt, that any misunderstanding of the directions he had given, or that

anything going wrong in the arrangements of those who had compelled him

to afford them intelligence, might be attributed to intentional

falsehood or mis-statement on his part, and that a life which he valued

just in proportion to its worthlessness, its inactivity, and its want

of fine perceptions, might be taken from him on the slightest notice.

He regarded the party of nine, then, as they descended the hill, with

feelings most strangely mingled and apparently contradictory; there was

a hope for their success, which he trusted would free him from the

painful situation in which they had placed him; there were sensations

of dislike and enmity towards those who had stopped and made him a

prisoner; there were feelings of anger in regard to the degradation of

the Earl of Danemore, who had so long ruled paramount throughout the

country round; and there was that longing desire which brutes as well

as man feel, to witness everything of importance that is passing around

them, especially when they are prevented by any cause from so doing.

His feelings, I say, were so mingled, that his whole capability of

wishing was concentrated in one earnest desire to know the result, and

to have, if we may use such a colloquial expression, "the matter out at

once." There are times and seasons, indeed, when ten minutes of the

past, ten minutes of anything that is absolutely certain, are worth

whole ages of doubt, even though that doubt may not be mingled with any

degree of apprehension; but in the present instance, personal terror

added immensely to all that the unhappy man felt; and his thoughts of

every dear relation of life which might be sacrificed, had ample room

to torture his heart, while, silent and inactive, he remained upon the

hill, watching the progress of those on whom depended his whole

afterfate.

When they approached the side of the wood that swept round the

esplanade, the straining eye of the captive could no longer distinguish

them; and he waited eagerly, with his eyes fixed upon the building, as

if he could gather all that was passing within those walls from the

dull unmeaning face of the stone. For some time, however, neither sight

nor sound gave him the slightest indications of what he longed to

learn. It was like the cold outside, which we too frequently see in the

world, covering a heart all agitation, anxiety, bitterness, and pain.

At length his feelings became insurmountable. There are degrees of

terror which give courage: he felt that it would be a thousand times

preferable to be amongst his comrades at the Castle, sharing their fate

and mingling in their danger, than sitting there in perfect inactivity,

waiting a result which he had no power to change; and he writhed with

the bonds that confined him. As he did so, he felt that the knot upon

the cords which tied his arms gave way in a slight degree--that he

could loosen it still further by a great but silent exertion of his

strength; and as he made that exertion, it slipped down to his wrists,

over which it was easily passed.

The two men who guarded him were gazing as eagerly upon the Castle as

he had been; and their minds were too full of the progress of their

comrades to allow them to take any note of the slight movement he had

made, so that, before they were at all aware of what he was doing, his

arms were free. As silently as he could, he slipped one hand into his

pocket for a knife to cut the cords which tied his legs, and he had

almost accomplished that purpose also, while they still continued

gazing at the Castle, along the windows of which more than one light

was now gleaming. He felt that he could do no more without calling

attention; but he perceived that what remained to do would be speedily

done, if he could get away, and would not impede his progress as he

went; and he gazed round upon the two who remained beside him, with a

beating heart, longing to gallop down to the Castle as fast as he

could, yet terrified at the idea of making the attempt. His hesitation

was soon brought to an end, however, for, giving way to the impulse of

habit, he put forward his hand, without thinking of what he was doing,

and patted his horse's neck. The gesture instantly drew the attention

of those beside him.

"What are you about there?" cried Erith. "He has got his hands free!"

The groom stayed to hear no more, but snatching up the bridle, he

struck his horse hard and galloped down the hill. The report of a

pistol rang in his ear the next moment, and at the same time a feeling

as if some one had run a hot iron along his right cheek, followed by

the trickling of blood, showed him that the robber's aim had not been

far amiss. The slight wound only added wings to his flight, however,

and the sound of a horse's feet following, urged him on still faster.

It was--and he knew it--a ride for life or death; but fortunately for

him his beast felt that it was speeding to its longed-for stable, and

though the hoofs of the pursuer sounded close behind, the groom rather

gained than lost ground in that headlong race.

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