I AM TAKEN PRISONER, AND AFTERWARD EXPERIENCE MANY STRANGE THINGS--I AT
LENGTH FIND MYSELF IN A DUNGEON
There was nothing at first sight very striking about Mr. John Wesley's
appearance. He was, I thought, rather undersized, and I at that moment
failed to see what there was about him to cause so much commotion. And
yet as I looked again I could not help being impressed with the calm
strength which shone from his eyes. He seemed to possess a power unknown
to most men. Had I, Jasper Pennington, been brought face to face with
such a crowd, I should have challenged the strongest man there to come
out and let us fight a fair battle, but Mr. Wesley seemed only desirous
to do good. He spoke calmly and with much assurance about our being
sinners, and being children of hell, but that we could be saved from
everlasting perdition by believing in Christ, who had appeased God's
anger toward us.
Now, I am not a critical man, but even at that moment I could not quite
see his meaning, for it seemed as though God were divided against
Himself, and that God the Son felt differently toward us from what God
the Father felt, and this, to an unlearned man like myself, brought only
confusion. Moreover, as he spoke, while I could not help admiring his
courage, and vowing in my heart that all one man could do to defend him
I would do, I felt that he was not altogether a lovable man. He spoke
with a sort of superiority which I did not admire, while he seemed to
think greatly of himself. I know it sounds like presumption for me, an
obscure, ignorant man, to write this, especially when I think of the
good he has done; nevertheless, such thoughts came into my mind as I
watched him. Perhaps his consciousness of his power over the multitudes
merely gave him a confidence which I did not understand, or perhaps the
fact that he was one of the principal men of the age made him feel his
importance, for I think a man must be more than human if, talked about
as Mr. Wesley has been, he does not become possessed of great esteem for
himself.
After he had been talking a few minutes, however, I forgot all this. His
little form seemed to dilate with a strange life, and many evil men
groaned, as if with anguish. His voice became more and more resonant,
and presently a touch of tenderness, which was at first absent, mingled
with his tones.
Before long that great crowd became subdued, and then I realised the
power of the human voice, of true courage, and of a good life; for I
believe that the mob realised, although they might not be able to put
their thoughts into words, that this man was gifted with an influence
which can only come by means known to those who live with God.
After he had been speaking some time a clergyman, accompanied by some of
the principal people of the town, spoke to the people, and he so angered
them that I believe injury would have been done had not the town
officials been present. Even with their presence Mr. Wesley seemed in
great danger, and so, in my anxiety to help him, for he had stirred my
heart greatly during the latter part of his address, I came to his side.
"No man shall touch Master Wesley," said I.
He looked up at me, for I think I was about a foot taller than he, and
he said, "Thank you, young man."
"Whither would you go?" I said. "I will walk by your side, and will let
no man harm you."
"I thank you," he repeated. "God hath evidently gifted you with great
strength. Use it for His glory. I will accept your escort to Mrs.
Maddern's house, but I have a strength which is omnipotent on my side. I
will trust and not be afraid."
Even as he spoke I felt how true were his words, and then we walked down
the street toward the sea, he continuing to preach most of the time.
When we reached the door of Mrs. Maddern's he said, "What is your name,
young man?"
"Jasper Pennington," I replied.
"It is an old Cornish name," he replied, and then, looking into my eyes,
he said, "Is your heart at peace with God and man--especially with man?"
This he asked meaningly.
I did not answer him, for it occurred to me that the town officials who
walked with him had told him who I was, although I had not heard.
"Trust in the Lord and do good, Jasper Pennington," he said, quietly,
"_so_ shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.
Delight thyself also in the Lord, and He shall give thee the desires of
thine heart."
Then he went into the house, and I felt as though a benediction rested
upon me.
I waited outside with the crowd, expecting him to come out again, but
after a time they heard that he had got into a boat from the back of the
house, for the sea came up close to the back of the house, and by this
means he was able to escape, mingling with the crowd again.
It was now well on to six o'clock in the evening, but being summertime
the light was still bright; indeed, the sun was yet high in the heavens.
So I left the people who wanted to have a last look at Mr. Wesley, and
who found their way to the seashore in great numbers. I went slowly
toward Humphry Bolitho's shop, musing upon what the great man had said
to me, but thinking far more of my meeting with Naomi. It is true I was
too excited to understand its real significance, but the impression left
upon me was gladsome, and, although my prospects seemed dark, my heart
beat high with hope. Perhaps the peaceful words that Mr. Wesley had
spoken to me made me rejoice, but the fact that Naomi had spoken kindly
to me was that upon which my mind rested most fondly.
When I got to Humphry Bolitho's shop I looked eagerly inside, as though
I expected to see Naomi there, but only strangers were within the
building, and then I came to the spot where, a year before, I had been
publicly degraded, and where I had first seen my love. Then my mind and
heart were full of bitterness, and yet perhaps the piteousness of my
condition had caused her to think kindly of me. And so, even at the
place of my degradation, I hoped that my enemies' deeds might work out
for me an exceeding great reward. Neither did I feel so bitterly toward
the Tresidder family. I still determined to win back my own and to
fulfil my promise to my father, but I wished my enemies no harm. Even
then I wondered whether John Wesley's words were not a prophecy,
providing I would fulfil the conditions.
But this feeling did not last long. I began to picture the danger Naomi
was in; I thought of Nick Tresidder trying to persuade her to marry him;
I thought of the threats that might be used; I called to mind the power
of the woman who had persuaded my grandfather to be unkind to his only
son, and then I was afraid, for if Naomi married Nick, what joy should I
have in life; ay, what would Pennington be to me? It would seem only an
empty tomb, while my heart would be eaten out with vain longings even to
the end of my days; for such is the mystery of life, and such is the
value of a woman's life to the man who loves her. I had seen Naomi only
a few times, while I had had but little intercourse with her, and yet
she was more to me than aught else. But for her I think I should have
given up hope, and when hope is gone all is gone.
I went back toward the sea again, musing over my hopes and my
difficulties, when I saw Israel Barnicoat stumbling along the street,
seemingly intoxicated. Not wishing to be seen by him, I went into an inn
to escape him and to get some refreshments, for I remembered that I had
eaten nothing since morning. The landlord of the inn, John Snell by
name, had known me in my more prosperous days, and he asked me to come
into the parlour, which he assured me was empty. So, desiring quiet, I
accepted his invitation. I had been there perhaps an hour, and I was
planning what I should do that night when John Snell came into the room
and brought me a letter.
"A booy 'ave jist brought it, Maaster Jasper," he said.
"A letter for me!" I cried, in astonishment.
"Iss; ther's your naame top of it, edn't et?"
I read the inscription--"Jasper Pennington, Esquire."
Now the word "Esquire" set me wondering; moreover, it set my heart
a-beating hard, for I thought I recognised the writing, and yet I was
not sure.
I did not break the seal because, although John Snell seemed friendly
toward me, I did not wish him to be present when I read the missive, for
I hoped that Naomi was the writer.
Presently John left me alone, and then I anxiously read and re-read the
words which had been written. They were very few, but they made my heart
burn with great joy, for they told me that I might soon see my love
again. This is what was written:
"If you would help me, meet me to-night at Pendennis Castle gates
at the hour of ten. I would then tell you what was impossible for
me to say at Humphry Bolitho's shop. If you love me, do not fail; I
am in greater danger than you think. If you fail our only hope is
gone."
Now, as I said, I read this letter many times, and pondered greatly over
its contents. I made up my mind I would not fail, for the letter told me
of Naomi's love and Naomi's danger. The thought of speaking to her
without hindrance was joy beyond all words; so much joy did I feel,
indeed, that I thought not of where Naomi was when she wrote it, or how
she was to escape her guardian while she spoke to me. Enough that her
own hands had penned these lines to me, while the joy coming from the
thought that she sought my help made me incapable of thinking clearly. I
was sure that her hands had traced these lines, for I compared them
with the other letter I had received from her, and which I carried with
me wherever I went; and so long before the hour of ten I made my way
toward Pendennis Castle. The little town was nearly asleep. No sounds
reached me save those of revellers in some kiddleywinks near the shore.
As I walked along many doubts came to me. By what means would Naomi
reach the castle gates? Who would accompany her? for I could not think
she would come alone. What was the reason she was staying in Falmouth
over night? And, above all, how would she elude the vigilance of those
who guarded her?
Had I long to wait I have no doubt that many more questions would have
arisen in my mind, for in spite of my joyful anticipations my mind began
to clear, and I thought of many things which did not come to me as I
read the letter. Besides, try as I might to throw off the feeling, a
great dread laid hold of me, and I began to look anxiously around me, as
if fearful of my surroundings.
Below me, in the near distance, the waves swished on the shore, while
out at sea, perhaps a mile, I could see the lights of a ship twinkling.
But for the musical sound of the waves all was silent; the night was
clear and bright; the moon's beams played with the sea, making the waves
shine like diamonds. Even although my mind was filled with many doubts,
I felt that I had seldom seen a fairer night, and I dreamed of leading
Naomi to the lanes outside the town and telling her again of my love.
Presently I came to the drawbridge near the castle gates. I knew it was
nearly ten o'clock, but it might want a few minutes to the hour, so I
went and leaned against the castle walls.
I thought I heard a whisper, for my ears were eager to catch the sound
of my love's footsteps; so I went back to the gates again; then I heard
a quick shuffling of feet, and before I could turn around my arms were
pinioned, my eyes were bandaged, and some woollen substance was thrust
into my mouth.
I saw now what the letter meant. It was not written by Naomi at all, and
in my heart I cursed myself as a blockhead for being so easily duped. I
heard the gruff voices of men, and among others I felt sure I heard that
of Israel Barnicoat. For some few minutes, although my hands were
pinioned, I struggled fiercely, but it was of no use; besides, I heard a
threatening voice near me saying, "You be quiet, Jasper Pennington, or
you'll be thrawed over the cliff. Doan't 'ee make no mistake now!"
I could not speak, neither could I see, so I became passive, and they
led me along a road which I knew descended. The sound of the waves
became nearer and nearer, so I judged we were going to the sea. In this
I was correct. A few seconds later I heard the sound of paddles, and
then I was half led, half lifted into a boat.
I tried to get the woollen material with which I had been gagged out of
my mouth, for it made me sick; moreover, I found it hard to breathe, but
I tried in vain. So I bore up as well as I could, wondering where I was
to be taken and what was to become of me. I did not think they meant to
kill me, or they would have thrown me over the cliff at Pendennis Point,
so I came to the conclusion that Cap'n Jack Truscott's gang had got hold
of me, and that they would take me to Kynance. I listened eagerly to
hear the sound of his voice, but could not; but I felt sure I had heard
Israel Barnicoat's, and this confirmed me in my opinion.
I was angry at this, not so much for myself as for Naomi. Never until
then did I feel how much she was in Richard Tresidder's power; never did
I feel so certain as then that every means would be used to marry her to
his son. And I had vainly thought that I would stay near to help her,
and that I would save her from the power of my enemies. Now, however, a
few hours after I had come back to Cornwall, I was taken a prisoner.
I sat upright in the boat. On each side of me sat a man holding me,
while two men rowed. There were others near me, as I knew by the sound
of their voices; how many I did not know. After I had sat thus for
perhaps half an hour the rowing ceased, and I felt our boat thump
against some hard substance, and by the movement of the men I knew that
some new steps were to be taken.
A few seconds later I heard sounds above me; then my hands were loosed,
but the bandage was not taken away from my eyes.
"Stand upright," said a voice.
I stood upright.
"Lay 'old ov this."
A piece of rope was put in my hand.
"You've got 'old of a rope ladder. Now climb."
I felt with my hands, and discovered that the man had spoken truly. I
knew it was useless to disobey, so I started to climb. In a few seconds
I felt my arms grasped by hard hands, and I was dragged on to the deck
of a vessel.
I made no sound; I could not, for I was still gagged.
"Come weth wee."
I knew by the dialect that Cornishmen still spoke, and a few seconds
later I felt myself descending a stairway with two men holding me.
By the motion I judged that I was on a pretty large vessel, and this
caused me to wonder greatly, for a large vessel would not be needed to
take me to Kynance, neither would Cap'n Jack use one for such a purpose.
I then thought I must be in the hands of the press-gang, and this was
not altogether unpleasant, for I thought I might be able to escape, or
use means whereby I should be able to communicate with Naomi.
A few seconds later I knew that I was enclosed in some sort of a cabin,
and then I felt a great relief, for my gag was pulled from my mouth. I
tried to speak, but I could not; my tongue seemed swollen and my throat
was parched, but it was pleasant to me to be able to breathe freely.
At length I made a great effort.
"Why am I taken here?" I asked.
No one spoke.
"What have I done that I should be treated thus?" I asked. "I have
harmed no man. I arrived in Falmouth only yesterday. What is your will
with me?"
Still no one spoke.
"Pull the bandage from my eyes and let me see, I cried. I said this
because two men still held my arms firmly, but no one moved to do my
bidding.
"Then give me something to drink," I cried--"water; my throat is
parched, and burns like fire."
"Yes, you shall drink," said a voice.
A few seconds later I heard the sound of bottles clinking, and then the
gurgle of something being poured therefrom.
"Here is something to cool your mouth. Here it is--fine stuff. Drink it
quickly, drink it all."
I felt a goblet placed against my lips, and a strange odour rise to my
nostrils. I thought it smelt like rum, and a sickly feeling came over
me.
"Drink quickly," said the same man who had spoken before; "it will do
you good."
I feared to drink, and I shut my teeth firmly, but a great sickness came
over me, and I could not keep my mouth closed, and some of the liquid
was poured on my tongue. It was pleasant to the taste and delightfully
cooling to my tongue, and so thirsty was I that I drank the contents of
the goblet, thankful for such a refreshing beverage.
"You feel better now, don't you?"
"Yes," I said; "take away the bandage, and I shall be all right."
No sooner had I spoken than I staggered, and should have fallen had not
I been kept up by the men who still held my arms.
"You are not so well, after all," I heard some one say. "You had better
lie down."
I yielded to the pressure upon my body, and felt myself falling; a great
roaring sound came into my ears, and then I realised that I was lying on
some sort of couch.
My senses, I was sure, were departing from me, and I had a vague idea
that I was falling through unlimited space, while wild winds and loud
thunders were all around me; then all became a great blank.
How long I remained unconscious I do not know, neither can I tell
whether the experiences through which I thought I went had any objective
reality.
This was what I thought or dreamed happened to me. For a long time all
was a perfect blank, except that I was left alone in darkness and
allowed to rest in peace. Even now I have a vague remembrance of a
delicious restfulness that came to me; every particle of my body seemed
to be in repose, while all desire departed. By-and-by light seemed to
come to me--a strange, weird light. I was moving, not by any action of
my own, but unknown forces were carrying me through balmy air. Strange,
shadowy creatures flitted around me, while I thought I heard the sound
of distant music, as though ten thousand voices were singing.
This, I said, is death.
My eyes, I knew, were closed, and yet I could see. By an inward power of
sight I could plainly discern the shadowy creatures around, and I
remember interesting myself in trying to discern their faces. Presently
one more than all the rest became plain. At first I thought it was
Naomi's, so fair was it, but I soon discovered that I was mistaken. The
woman was cast in a larger mould than Naomi, and looked more matronly.
She looked at me with infinite tenderness, and kept close to my side all
the time.
"Speak," I said to her; "tell me who you are."
But she shook her head.
Then it seemed to me as though dark, evil forms came near, and a man
with a face like Richard Tresidder's said, "Let him die; we shall never
be safe while he is alive." But the woman seemed to surround me like a
mantle of light, and lo! my enemies were powerless to touch me. Time
after time did murderous weapons seem to come close to me, but the form
of the woman received every blow, and yet they did not harm her.
"This woman bears a charmed life," was the thought that came into my
mind, and I longed greatly to know who she was.
Then another form came near. I saw my father.
"Jasper," he said, "this is your mother. She is always near you. This is
a mother's joy, ever to be near her loved ones. She will protect you."
"Mother," I cried, "kiss me."
Her face came closer and closer to mine, and then for the first time I
knew of a mother's love and felt a mother's kiss.
"Be brave, and pure and true, Jasper, my son," she said; "fear not even
in the valley of the shadow of death. Delight thyself in the Lord, and
He shall give thee the desires of thine heart."
After that a great darkness fell upon me again, yet through the darkness
I could see the luminous form of my mother, with love shining from her
eyes, and her hand pointing upward.
After that I felt as though I were on a stormy sea. The ship in which we
sailed tossed like a cork, while the waves, foam-crested, hurled
themselves furiously on our bark. A great panic seized the ship's crew,
and they gave themselves up for lost. But for myself I had no fear. A
great benign influence was around me, and I felt as safe as a babe
rocked on its mother's breast, while the wild winds that roared seemed
as sweet as the lullaby of a mother to a tired child.
For a long time the darkness continued, and then, when all hope seemed
to have departed from the ship's crew, I saw a twinkling light. Then I
felt rough hands around my body, while evil eyes gleamed; but I still
saw the love-light shining from my mother's eyes, and I heard a voice
saying, "He must not suffer harm."
Then all was a perfect blank.
* * * * *
When I awoke to consciousness I found myself in a small room. It was
dimly lighted, and the air seemed cold and clammy. As my eyes became
accustomed to my surroundings I saw that the walls were rough and
unplastered. Above my head were huge beams, covered with thick, unplaned
boards. Only one window was in the room. It was very small, and through
the glass I could see iron bars. The window, I judged, was eighteen
inches wide, and perhaps two feet high.
I was lying on a bed which was made of rough deal, and had evidently
been knocked together hurriedly. But the clothes were clean and dry.
Beside me was a table on which was a basin and some cups.
"Where am I, and how did I get here?" I asked myself.
For some time I had no remembrance of the past. Then events came to me
in a dim, vague way. I remembered the letter which I thought was written
by Naomi, and my journey to Pendennis Castle. But it seemed a long way
off. It might have been years; I could not tell.
I tried to lift myself from my bed, but I could not, I was too weak. I
looked at my hands; they were white like a woman's, and very thin.
"I must have been ill," I said; "but why am I here, and where am I?"
I listened intently, but all was silent as death. I longed for human
voices, but I could hear none. No sound reached me but the roar of
distant surf, but it was a strangely muffled sound.
"I am by the sea somewhere," I muttered; "but where?"
Then my heart gave a bound, for I heard the echo of distant footsteps.
They sounded strangely, just as one's footsteps sound at night when
walking through an empty church. They came nearer and nearer, until they
came close to where I lay. Then I was sure that some one was coming to
me.