JOSIAH'S LONELY MIDNIGHT WATCH IN THE CONJUROR'S HOUSE.
Mr. Morley found his brother still in bed; not because he was too ill to
get up--for the walk and the cold bath had done him good--but for the
simple reason that he had no clothes to put on. Those he wore in the
morning were too wet, and he had not yet received a fresh supply from
the "First and Last" inn, at Sennen, where he had left his things when
he started so suddenly on his journey some weeks before. So Mr. Morley
sat by his bedside, and got him to relate his adventures, which he did
very faithfully, until he came to the adventure of that morning; and
then Mr. Morley saw there was a reluctance to tell all. But he was
determined to know everything, and he pressed his brother to confide in
him; and, after some little hesitation, he told all, except his attempt
at self-destruction. He didn't tell that; but he dwelt long on the
conduct of Alrina, and asked his brother if he could give him any clue
to the discovery of Alrina's motive for treating him so coldly and
cruelly.
"Yes," replied his brother; "I think I can fathom it; and although I
think Miss Freeman is a noble girl, yet I think, when I have related to
you my adventures of the last few weeks, you will think that she is
right, and that you have luckily escaped being mixed up in a most
unpleasant affair, that must have embittered your whole life, had not
that noble girl been more prudent than yourself."
It will be remembered that Frederick knew nothing of his brother's
search at Mr. Freeman's house, when he found his chest there, and the
money gone,--nor did he know of the second attempt, that morning, to
secure the man of cunning, nor of his death,--nor, indeed, had he heard
of his brother's success in entering the deserted house near
Bristol;--so that Mr. Morley had a long and interesting tale to relate.
Frederick was very much excited several times during the recital, and
seemed to drink in every word, as it were, especially when his brother
arrived at the latter part of his recital, wherein Alrina pleaded so
piteously for a delay of her father's punishment.
A long silence ensued when the tale was ended. At last Mr. Morley
said,--
"Now, do you see Miss Freeman's motive for her treatment of you this
morning?"
"Noble girl!" exclaimed Frederick; "I see it all, she knew her father's
guilt, and did violence to her feelings to save me from being involved
in the sad affair. But after all, I cannot understand why she should say
she couldn't love me;--why not have told me all, and have left it to me
to act according to the dictates of my own feelings?"
"She knew you better than you knew yourself," replied his brother; "and
I repeat that she acted nobly, and you ought to consider yourself lucky,
that you have escaped a life of misery; for, however deeply you may love
this girl now, in the warmth of a first and youthful love, you would
find that your ardour would cool considerably, when you saw the world
looking coldly on your wife, and avoiding her society, as the child of a
felon, and worse, perhaps, however good and lovely she may be in
herself. No! no! take my word for it, my dear brother, you will thank
her for the course she has pursued, when you have calmly reflected on
it."
"Never!" said Frederick, passionately; "instead of weakening my love for
her, this noble conduct of hers, has endeared her to me a hundred-fold.
What care I for the sneers of the world, if I have Alrina's love? I will
go to her at once, and have a full explanation; and if, as you think,
she declined my love for the sake of preventing my being subjected to
the sneers and scorns of the world, I will compel her to marry me."
"Stay," said Mr. Morley; "you must first ascertain that my conjecture
is the right one; but I wouldn't advise you to see her yourself. Let me
see her for you."
"No," said his brother; "I will see her myself." And as his clothes had
arrived by this time, he dressed and accompanied his brother back to
Tol-pedn-Penwith, where Lieutenant Fowler had no difficulty in
accommodating them both, although his house was so small. He ordered an
extra hammock to be slung up in the largest of the sleeping apartments,
where the two brothers slept soundly till a late hour the next morning,
as they were both very tired.
Josiah, in the meantime, kept watch and guard over "the Maister's" house
and its contents. It was pleasant enough while the daylight lasted; but
when night came on, and darkness covered the face of the earth, Josiah
thought it was very whisht to be there in that house all alone. So he
went down to his father's, and had a good supper, and something to
drink. This made him feel very comfortable, and he wished them all
good-night, took a lantern with him, and went back again to his solitary
watch.
Josiah was a courageous man at all times when there was any real danger
to be feared, and a strong man, as everybody knew. The man must be more
than mortal who could make Josiah afraid, but he had a strong
superstitious feeling in his composition; and who had not in those
days?--and if there was an excuse for the feeling at all, it certainly
might be excused in such a case as this. Here was the man who had been
the dread of the neighbourhood, and who was believed to have dealings
with the Evil One, lying dead in that lonely house, where so many evil
deeds had been done, some of which had been discovered within the last
few days. That he was a man to be feared and dreaded no one doubted; but
whether he really had the power which many gave him credit for, remained
to be proved yet. Josiah thought that perhaps it would be his fate to
prove this; and it cannot be denied that he felt rather uncomfortable,
when he found himself seated in the kitchen of that house, not only
without the pleasant society of Alice Ann, but, as he well knew, without
having any human habitation within some distance of him.
His mother had kindly given him a flask of brandy, that he might indulge
in the prevailing amusement at that period, of "keeping his spirits up,
by pouring spirits down;" and so he sat down in the chair usually
occupied by Alice Ann, having first placed a glass and some water on the
table, and began to reflect on the vicissitudes of human life in
general, and of his life in particular; and then he began to speculate
on the prospects of happiness which seemed to loom in the future, when
he should have led Alice Ann to the altar, and settled down as a married
man. These thoughts were all very pleasant, and so was the
brandy-and-water. The candle was burning brightly and so was the fire,
and he thought he was "getten on brave."
He had got nearly to the bottom of the second glass of
brandy-and-water, and was beginning to feel quite comfortable and happy.
He only wanted one thing to add to his perfect happiness he thought, and
that was the pleasure of Alice Ann's society. It was drawing towards
midnight, and he was feeling drowsy, so he dropped off into a sound
sleep as he sat in his chair, and dreamed of her he last thought of
before he fell asleep. He fancied he heard her upstairs, brushing out
the rooms, and knocking the furniture about, as servants frequently do,
merely to show that they are doing something. She was making a
tremendous noise certainly, he thought, and he called to her, in his
sleep, not to make so much noise, to disturb "The Maister." But the
noise continued, nevertheless; and when he awoke he found the candle
burnt down in the socket, and the fire nearly gone out; so he
replenished the fire first, and then looked about for another candle,
but before he could find one, he heard, as he thought, a strange noise
in "The Maister's" room. What could it be? No one could have got into
the house; he had locked the doors,--he was sure of that, but still
there was a noise--that was evident; and someone was walking up and down
the room upstairs. What could it be?
The candle, which had been flickering in the socket, and wavering
between life and death, as it were, for some seconds, now went out
entirely, and left Josiah in perfect darkness. He searched in vain for
another candle,--he couldn't find one anywhere; and then he tried to
find the door of the kitchen, but he could not find it. He went round
and round the room, as he thought, but no door could he find; so at
length he came back to his chair again, which he found by the aid of the
glimmer of light from the fire which he had nearly extinguished in his
haste to replenish it, when he saw the candle flickering away.
He now fully made up his mind that he was spellbound, and that "The
Maister's" spirit was walking through the house; but as the noise had
ceased he became a little more reconciled, and helped himself to some
more brandy, after which he fell fast asleep again, and when he awoke it
was broad daylight.
He rubbed his eyes and looked about the room, forgetting for a moment
where he was; and then he began to think of his absurd fancies about
being spellbound and "piskey-led," and such nonsense; and he laughed
aloud and went out into the fresh morning air. The doors were barred and
all secure, as he had left them when he came in the night before. But
still he heard those strange noises in his ears, and he could not get
rid of the feeling that the "The Maister's" spirit was walking in his
room last night. He locked the door behind him, and went down the road
towards his father's house to breakfast.
"Why, 'Siah, boy," said Captain Trenow, laughing, as his son
approached, "you're looking so whisht as ef you'd seed a ghost. "The
Maister" dedn't trouble 'ee in the night, ded aw?"
"I caen't tell," replied Josiah, "what et wor, but I heerd a bra' noise
in the night."
"Why, what are 'ee tellen?" exclaimed Mrs. Trenow, coming to the door;
"I always thoft hes sperit wud walk, ef anybody's ever ded."
"Nonsense!" said Captain Trenow; "you're two patticks, both of 'ee."
Josiah would not be persuaded out of the belief, however, that "The
Maister's" spirit was walking in his room last night.
"I'm no coward, fe-a-thar, and that you do knaw," said he; "but I arn't
fitty for to stop up there another night by myself, nor I wean't nether
to plaise nobody,--there, na."
His father turned the whole tale into ridicule, and laughed at the idea
of noises being heard in "The Maister's" chamber, when there was no one
in the house but Josiah.
"I'll tell 'ee, my son," said the old man, at length, with a wicked
twinkle in his eye; "the brandy was too strong, I reckon. Ha! ha! ha!"
Josiah was about to reply indignantly to this insinuation, when they
were disturbed by a knock at the door.
"Dear lor'!" said Mrs. Trenow, rising to open the door; "why, who can be
come so early, I wondar?"
She soon returned, saying that the undertakers wanted to go in to do
their work.
"Aw! iss, sure," said Josiah; "the door es locked, sure nuff."
"Come," said Captain Trenow; "we may as well go down too, and make sure
that no more noises shall be heard. I shudn't like for 'ee to be
frightened worse than you are, boy."
So they went down together; and, as Josiah unlocked the door, his father
said in a sarcastic tone,--"Now, don't you be frightened, my son."
Josiah did not answer, but led the way upstairs to "The Maister's"
bedroom, which adjoined the mysterious room, so often referred to in
this history; and having unlocked the door, he led the way into the room
where only a few hours before that affecting scene had been witnessed,
which we have before recorded.
The awful escape from the hands of justice of one who seemed deserving
of a severe punishment, and the consequent shock to the nervous system
of a lovely and noble-minded girl, who would have braved everything to
save her father from ignominy and suffering,--this scene was no novelty
to the undertaker's mermidons. They were accustomed to view dead bodies
continually, in their calling. They had been working all night, in order
to be in time, and they had brought the fruits of their labour with
them, and proceeded, without ceremony, towards the bed, when they
started back in amazement! for,--the bed was empty!
"The Maister" was gone!--fled! But where?--that was the question. They
searched the room, but found nothing. There was a communication,
however, between the bedroom and "The Maister's" private room which no
one remembered ever having seen before;--it must have been concealed by
some paintings hung against the wall. It was open now--wide open. They
went through, into the mysterious room, and there they found that the
drawers had been opened and ransacked, and all the valuables taken away.
The belt containing the diamonds and jewels, which had been put into one
of the drawers in that room, was gone. Captain Trenow was the first to
discover this; for he had found it in undressing "The Maister," and he
it was who had suggested to Alrina the propriety of locking it up in one
of those drawers.