THE BROKEN REED.
Mr. Morley and Josiah had left Ashley Hall before the family could get
ready for the journey, and had travelled with speed and arrived at
Lieutenant Fowler's station on the morning of Frederick Morley's visit
to Alrina; and as Josiah had been hurried away without seeing Alice Ann,
he was anxious to know what had become of her; so, under pretence of
going to see his mother, he hastened to St. Just at once, and made
direct for Mr. Freeman's house, little thinking of the changes that had
taken place there during his short absence. He learned from Alice Ann
all that she knew of the history of the past few weeks, and she ended by
telling him that Mr. Frederick Morley had been there that morning, and
that something had happened between him and Miss Reeney, for that she
was locked in her room sobbing and crying her eyes out a'most, and Mr.
Frederick was gone down towards the sea, raving like a mad bull.
Josiah thought there must be something very much amiss, but what it was
he could not imagine. However he deemed it prudent to follow his young
master; and it was lucky he did so, for he reached the spot barely in
time to see him throw himself from the rock into the sea. Josiah was an
expert swimmer so he did not hesitate a moment, but throwing off his
coat and hat, he plunged in after the demented youth, and saved him, as
we have seen. Now that he was cool and collected once more, Morley
seemed quite ashamed of the act he had attempted, and shuddered at what
might have been his fate, had he not been thus fortunately rescued; nor
would he satisfy his faithful follower as to whether it was accident or
not. After sitting in the sun to dry themselves a little, they walked
back to the inn, where they found Lieutenant Fowler and Mr. Morley
waiting their return. Fowler had not heard, until the night before, of
Frederick's miraculous escape from his imprisonment at Cooper's, and his
preservation in the vessel which had borne away Mr. Freeman from the
hands of justice;--and they came on to see Frederick, whom they expected
to find in bed, and to learn the truth about the return of Mr. Freeman;
for Fowler had heard only a rumour of that as yet,--the gossips being
still afraid to speak out openly about him, lest evil should come upon
them.
Josiah had heard every particular from Alice Ann; and Mr. Morley, being
determined that he should not elude them this time, desired Josiah to
watch the house lest any one should escape, while he and Fowler
proceeded to Pendrea, for the assistance of the squire, whose warrant as
a magistrate would be necessary for the apprehension of the guilty
party. Josiah recommended Frederick to go to bed at once, for he feared
serious consequences would result from his remaining in his wet clothes
any longer, and he told the other gentlemen that their friend had
slipped off a rock into the water. They sat by his bedside for a little
time after he was in bed, and heard his adventures, and then proceeded
on their more important business. They refrained from telling Frederick,
however, the name of the party they were in search of, fearing the
consequences, in his present weak state, and knowing the pain it would
cause him, to find that it was Alrina's father whom they accused.
Fowler forgot his own wrongs in his anxiety to serve his friend; and it
was not until they were within a short distance of Pendrea-house, that
he remembered his position with regard to the squire and his household,
and he scrupled to go on.
"Nonsense, my dear fellow," said Mr. Morley; "you are going on a very
different errand now. That was pleasure, this is business; besides, we
don't know what it may lead to."
Thus persuaded, but certainly not against his inclination, Fowler went
on without again alluding to the subject, well knowing the old adage
that "faint heart never won fair lady."
The squire was at home, and received his two visitors with politeness if
not with cordiality; for his wife had got a crotchet into her head about
Mr. Morley and her eldest daughter, which had been told her by one of
the servants, and she had told it to the squire; and, putting this
against that, as he expressed it, he thought he saw clearly that Mr.
Morley had been trifling with his eldest daughter's affections, as
Fowler had been doing with her sister; and so he came to the conclusion,
without the aid of the conjuror, that the conduct of these two men had
caused the sudden and alarming change which they had observed in the
health and spirits of their two daughters, and which had baffled the
skill of all the doctors. Had Mr. Morley and Lieutenant Fowler,
therefore, called in the ordinary way, and claimed his friendship, they
would not probably have been admitted; but they now came on business in
which the squire was himself much interested; so he filled up a warrant
and agreed to accompany them to see the end of it. They could take a
constable from the village, as they passed, he said.
The old squire did not forget his hospitality, in his pique at the
treatment he believed his daughters had received at the hands of these
two gentlemen. They were both gentlemanly men, and they were now engaged
in one common cause with himself, the punishment of a man whom the
squire had suspected and watched for some time, and who, they now
discovered, was a villain of the deepest dye. Mr. Morley had suspicions
even beyond what, at present, he thought it prudent to communicate to
the other two gentlemen. The squire unbent and came down from his
stilts, before they had conversed five minutes, and ordered lunch, which
he might in those days have termed dinner; after which the three
gentlemen started on their expedition. And so eager and anxious were
they in concocting their plans for the capture of the man who had so
cunningly eluded them before, that, if the ladies were not forgotten by
some of the party, they were certainly not alluded to. Perhaps this was
avoided from policy by the two visitors;--the stilts might have been had
recourse to again, if that subject had been revived just then in the
mind of the crusty old squire.
The ladies knew that the two gentlemen were in the house, and expected
to be summoned into the drawing-room, but they were disappointed. The
three gentlemen lunched alone, and then started on their expedition. An
experienced constable was procured at the next village, and on they
went, a formidable party, determined not to be outwitted again by that
cunning man. They found the trusty Josiah watching closely when they
arrived near the house; no one had gone in or come out, he said, since
he had been there. He had not even seen Alice Ann come out, and he would
not venture too near the house for fear of causing suspicion. They knew
the depth and cunning of the man so well, that it was necessary to use
every precaution. He might feign extreme illness in order to put them
off their guard, and might again escape. So it was arranged that
Lieutenant Fowler and Josiah should watch the outside of the house,
while the other two went in, accompanied by the constable, who was well
up to his work, having been sent down from a larger place some years
ago, and recommended to the office by a gentleman high in authority.
"'The Maister' es very bad in bed, sar," said Alice Ann, making a low
curtsey to the squire, as she opened the door; "Miss Reeney es up in har
room, very bad too, for what I can tell; for I haan't seed har for a
bra' bit. I'll call har down, sar. Step inside, ef you plaise." And she
ushered them into the best parlour.
As the house was well watched and guarded, the squire and Mr. Morley
thought it would be but courteous to see the daughter, and smooth it
over to her as well as they could. Justice must have its course, but it
would have been cruel to have distressed the poor innocent girl more
than was absolutely necessary. They intended to try to get her away
somewhere first, and then she would not feel the disgrace so much. The
constable, however, was for executing his warrant at once without
showing favour or affection to anyone, man, woman, or child; and if the
magistrate had not been there in person to check him, he would have made
short work of it; for he was a rough, determined character, and had been
in office long enough to be hardened in the stern duties he was
sometimes obliged to perform. He had suffered for showing too much
lenity to persons in his early career and he was determined that
shouldn't happen again.
After a short time, Alrina made her appearance, pale and wretched, with
swollen eyes, and a fevered brow, which her visitors, who knew not the
real cause, attributed to her grief and anxiety for her father. The
squire told her as gently as he could, that they had an unpleasant duty
to perform, which must be done; and he advised her to leave the house,
and seek the protection of some friend.
"Alas!" she replied; "what friend have I to fly to? I have no one in the
world but my father and my aunt, to look to for protection. My father
lies upstairs on a bed of sickness, and he has no one but myself to
nurse him; and where my aunt is I know not. Oh! gentlemen, have pity on
me, if not on my father;--he is my father, whatever evil he may have
done. Spare him for my sake! Consider, squire Pendray, you have
daughters of your own,--consider their feelings if placed in my
situation. My poor father to be taken from a bed of sickness, where I
have endeavoured to do all in my power to relieve his sufferings, and to
ease his pain,--to be taken out by the rough hands of the executors of
the law, and cast into a cold damp prison! Oh! gentlemen, on my knees I
beg you to allow him to remain here with me. It may not be long." And,
falling on her knees, she clasped the squire by the hand, and burst into
a flood of tears.
It was an affecting sight. The squire remembered his own daughters, and
their fond affection for their father, and would have relented; and Mr.
Morley, although he was the one most aggrieved, turned away from the sad
scene. It was heartrending to see one so young and lovely on her bended
knees, praying for her father's relief from present punishment.
It was but a slight request after all.
"Why not let the constable remain here?" said Mr. Morley at last. "Two
if you like."
"Yes! two!" exclaimed Alrina, rising suddenly, and approaching Mr.
Morley; "only allow my father to remain here under my care and nursing,
until he is able to be removed (if it must be so), and I will ask no
more. Oh! squire Pendray!--Oh! Mr. Morley!" continued she, appealing to
each of them by turns; "think what it is to have a father taken from
you, and in this way! Let him remain here,--oh! pray, let him remain."
The constable was made of sterner stuff. He had been constable many
years, and knew his duty when he had a warrant placed in his hands; and,
seeing that Mr. Morley had given way already, and that the squire would
soon follow his example, he thought it was time to speak.
"I tell 'ee what et es, squire," said he; "you have put a warrant in my
hands agen John Freeman, the Land's-End conjuror, and what not, and Mr.
Morley's oath es gone forth agen him; and ef you wink at et now, and the
man shud escape, what do you think will be the upshot of et? Why, we
shall have to take the conjuror's place for compromising a
felony,--that's about the time o' day, gentlemen. I've suffered before
for tender-heartedness, and I don't mean to do et agen; so ef miss will
show me the room I'll follow her, or else I'll find et out by myself."
Alrina now turned to the constable and besought him to pity her, and, if
it must be so, to remain there, and she would make him as comfortable as
possible.
"Oh! sir!" she said, "if you have a daughter, think of her feelings,
should her father be taken from her, as you would take away mine,--oh!
in pity think of that sir!"
"That's the very thing I'm thinking about, miss," replied the constable;
"and I'm thinking that my daughter wud have to go through the same trial
as you are going through now, ef I wor to lev the conjuror go. No! no!
miss, rather he than me, axing your pardon. Why lor' bless you, miss,
tesn't much when you're used to et. We'll take care of the old
gentleman, as much as ef he had be'n the old gentleman hisself. I've got
a tidy little covered cart outside, and we'll clap 'n in, and travel to
Penzance to-night, and to-morrow mornin' he'll be broft before the
magistrates and committed, ef he's guilty,--and he's sure to be, I
s'pose,--and then on to Bodmin. Why, 'twill be a nice little ride for 'n
miss."
"Oh! don't, please don't, paint such a terrible picture as that," said
Alrina, looking' up at the inexorable constable, with the tears
glistening in her eyes.
"Come," said he, "I'm not going to be made chicken-hearted. Show me the
way to his room,--we're wasting time." And he led the way out of the
room, followed by the others.
Alrina, now, seeing that tears and entreaties would not avail, preceded
the party upstairs; but when she arrived at her father's bedroom-door,
she stopped and begged the constable to allow her to go in first, to
break the nature of their business to him, and prepare him for their
approach.
"No!" said the constable, sharply, placing his hand on the handle of the
door; "that dodge won't do, my pretty lady. A cunning man and a shrewd
woman are a match for the devil, when they get together." So, seeing she
had no alternative but to open the door and admit them, Alrina, with a
trembling hand, lifted the latch, and, preceding the others, hastily
gained the side of the bed, and, kneeling down, begged her father not to
be frightened, for he would be treated kindly. She said this without
looking on his face; for she knew she could say nothing to comfort him,
and she did not like to witness the shock which this untimely intrusion
must occasion, and so she pressed her face on the bed, as she knelt, and
said these few introductory words, and waited to hear what he would say
to his unwelcome visitors. No one spoke for a few minutes. A deathlike
silence prevailed throughout the room. At last the constable broke the
spell by saying,--
"Escaped again, by George!"
"Escaped!" cried Alrina, jumping up from her kneeling posture; "thank
God for that. But how escaped? how could he----?"
She did not finish her sentence; for, looking down where she had dreaded
to look before, the awful truth was but too evident. There was no
mistaking it. There lay the earthly remains of her poor deluded father,
it was true, but the spirit had indeed escaped, and fled to regions
unknown!
The shock was too great for her. She had suffered the severest mental
agony that day that it was possible for mortal to bear. She had borne up
bravely while there appeared a chance of saving her father from
disgrace; but now she broke down altogether, and fell on the floor
insensible. Alice Ann had followed the intruders into the room; and, as
all her efforts to rouse her young mistress were in vain, she asked the
gentlemen to assist in carrying her into her own room.
Fowler and Josiah were called in, and a consultation was held as to
where Alrina should be placed for the present. She could not remain
there, under the circumstances,--that was very clear. Several plans were
proposed and discussed, but nothing could be decided on for her. She
might object to them all when she recovered her senses. At last Squire
Pendray proposed that she should be conveyed to his house, where he was
sure she would be taken care of; and he felt, moreover, although he did
not express it, that the companionship of such a noble strong-minded
girl might lead to the recovery of his own daughter. This was thought an
excellent plan, and everyone declared that the squire was most kind and
considerate. But then came another difficulty. She would not accept his
offer now, he feared, any more than she would the offer that was made
her by his wife, before. And in this he thought she acted
foolishly,--more foolishly than he should have imagined from the good
sense she had displayed in other respects.
Under these circumstances, he thought, they must get her to
Pendrea-house by stratagem, and, when there, he felt sure she would like
it too well to run away, and he was sure his family would approve of the
plan, and would make her as comfortable as possible. So it was arranged
that she should be taken carefully, in her present unconscious state,
and placed gently in the covered cart, well wrapped up, and that Alice
Ann should go also to take care of her, on the road. This plan Alice Ann
thought capital. So the poor unconscious girl was carried out gently by
Josiah in his great strong arms, and placed comfortably in the covered
cart, with Alice Ann by her side, and Josiah was left in charge of the
house and the dead body of its late owner.
Mr. Morley said he must go and see his brother again; for he feared that
the sufferings and privations he had lately undergone, had seriously
impaired his health and undermined his constitution. So he went on to
"The Commercial" inn, while the squire and Lieut. Fowler proceeded
towards their respective homes; and as their road lay the same way for
some distance, they walked together. Fowler made himself so agreeable to
the old gentleman during their walk that he was sorry to part with him
when their roads turned in different directions. He did not ask him,
however, to continue his companion all the way to Pendrea-house; but
during his solitary walk after they had parted, he began to think that
such an agreeable fellow could never really be the villain he supposed
him to be with regard to his conduct towards his daughter. His opinion
of him was softened a good deal; and if a satisfactory explanation of
his conduct could have been given just then, and a proposal made in a
straightforward honourable way, the old gentleman would, no doubt, have
consented, rather than leave his daughter pine away thus,--the cause of
which he now devined so truly. But the explanation did not come, nor was
the proposal made; so the old squire walked home alone to prepare his
family for the reception of their visitor, who was being brought slowly
round by the broad road, while he and Fowler had taken a short cut
across the common.