ARREST.
The high-sheriff made his appearance before his early and well-known
visiters with a desperate air of composure and unconcern, the effort to
attain which was readily perceptible to his companions. He could not, in
the first place, well get rid of those terrors of the domestic world
from which their interruption had timely shielded him; nor, on the other
hand, could he feel altogether assured that the visit now paid him would
not result in the exaction of some usurious interest. He had recently,
as we have said, as much through motives of worldly as spiritual policy,
become an active religionist, in a small way, in and about the section
of country in which he resided; and knowing that his professions were in
some sort regarded with no small degree of doubt and suspicion by some
of his brethren holding the same faith, he felt the necessity of playing
a close and cautious game in all his practices. He might well be
apprehensive, therefore, of the visits of those who never came but as so
many omens of evil, and whose claims upon, and perfect knowledge of, his
true character, were such, that he felt himself, in many respects, most
completely at their mercy.
Rivers did not give much time to preliminaries, but, after a few phrases
of commonplace, coming directly to the point, he stated the business in
hand, and demanded the assistance of the officer of justice for the
arrest of one of its fugitives. There were some difficulties of form in
the matter, which saved the sheriff in part, and which the outlaw had in
great part over looked. A warrant of arrest was necessary from some
officer properly empowered to issue one, and a new difficulty was thus
presented in the way of Colleton's pursuit. The sheriff had not the
slightest objections to making deputies of the persons recommended by
the outlaw, provided they were fully empowered to execute the commands
of some judicial officer; beyond this, the scrupulous executioner of
justice was unwilling to go; and having stood out so long in the
previous controversy with his spouse, it was wonderful what a vast stock
of audacious courage he now felt himself entitled, and ventured, to
manifest.
"I can not do it, Master Guy--it's impossible--seeing, in the first
place, that I ha'n't any right by the laws to issue any warrant, though
it's true, I has to serve them. Then, agin, in the next place, 'twont do
for another reason that's jist as good, you see. It's only the other
day, Master Guy, that the fear of the Lord come upon me, and I got
religion; and now I've set myself up as a worker in other courts, you
see, than those of man; and there be eyes around me that would see, and
hearts to rejoice at the backslidings of the poor laborer. Howbeit,
Master Guy, I am not the man to forget old sarvice; and if it be true
that this man has been put to death in this manner, though I myself can
do nothing at this time, I may put you in the way--for the sake of old
time, and for the sake of justice, which requires that the slayer of his
brother should also be slain--of having your wish."
Though something irritated still at the reluctance of his former
creature to lend himself without scruple to his purposes, the outlaw did
not hesitate to accept the overture, and to press for its immediate
accomplishment. He had expostulated with the sheriff for some time on
the point, and, baffled and denied, he was very glad, at the conclusion
of the dialogue with that worthy, to find that there was even so much of
a prospect of concert, though falling far short of his original
anticipations, from that quarter. He was too well aware, also, of the
difficulty in the way of any proceeding without something savoring of
authority in the matter; for, from a previous and rather correct
estimate of Colleton's character, he well foresaw that, knowing his
enemy, he would fight to the last against an arrest; which, under the
forms of law and with the sanction of a known officer, he would
otherwise readily recognise and submit to. Seizing, therefore, upon the
speech of the sheriff, Rivers eagerly availed himself of its opening to
obtain those advantages in the affair, of which, from the canting spirit
and newly-awakened morality of his late coadjutor, he had utterly begun
to despair. He proceeded to reply to the suggestion as follows:--
"I suppose, I must content myself, Maxson, with doing in this thing as
you say, though really I see not why you should now be so particular,
for there are not ten men in the county who are able to determine upon
any of your powers, or who would venture to measure their extent. Let us
hear your plan, and I suppose it will be effectual in our object, and
this is all I want. All I desire is, that our people, you know, should
not be murdered by strangers without rhyme or reason."
The sheriff knew well the hypocrisy of the sentiment with which Rivers
concluded, but made no remark. A single smile testified his knowledge of
the nature of his colleague, and indicated his suspicion of a deeper and
different motive for this new activity. Approaching the outlaw closely,
he asked, in a half whisper:--
"Who was the witness of the murder--who could swear for the magistrate?
You must get somebody to do that."
This was another point which Rivers, in his impatience, had not thought
to consider. But fruitful in expedient, his fertile mind suggested that
ground of suspicion was all that the law required for apprehension at
least, and having already arranged that the body of the murdered man
should be found under certain circumstances, he contented himself with
procuring commissions, as deputies, for his two officers, and posted
away to the village.
Here, as he anticipated, the intelligence had already been received--the
body of Forrester had been found, and sufficient ground for suspicion to
authorize a warrant was recognised in the dirk of the youth, which,
smeared with blood as it had been left by Rivers, had been found upon
the body. Rivers had but little to do. He contrived, however, to do
nothing himself. The warrant of Pippin, as magistrate, was procured, and
the two officers commissioned by the sheriff went off in pursuit of the
supposed murderer, against whom the indignation of all the village was
sufficiently heightened by the recollection of the close intimacy
existing between Ralph and Forrester, and the nobly characteristic
manner in which the latter had volunteered to do his fighting with
Rivers. The murdered man had, independent of this, no small popularity
of his own, which brought out for him a warm and active sympathy highly
creditable to his memory. Old Allen, too, suffered deeply, not less on
his own than his daughter's account. She, poor girl, had few words, and
her sorrow, silent, if not tearless, was confined to the solitude of her
own chamber.
In the prosecution of the affair against Ralph, there was but one person
whose testimony could have availed him, and that person was Lucy Munro.
As the chief particular in evidence, and that which established the
strong leading presumption against him, consisted in the discovery of
his dagger alongside the body of the murdered man, and covered with his
blood; it was evident that she who could prove the loss of the dagger by
the youth, and its finding by Munro, prior to the event, and
unaccompanied by any tokens of crime, would not only be able to free the
person suspected, at least from this point of suspicion, but would be
enabled to place its burden elsewhere, and with the most conclusive
distinctness.
This was a dilemma which Rivers and Munro did not fail to consider. The
private deliberation, for an hour, of the two conspirators, determined
upon the course which for mutual safety they were required to pursue;
and Munro gave his niece due notice to prepare for an immediate
departure with her aunt and himself, on some plausible pretence, to
another portion of the country.
To such a suggestion, as Lucy knew not the object, she offered no
objection; and a secret departure was effected of the three, who, after
a lonely ride of several hours through a route circuitously chosen to
mislead, were safely brought to the sheltered and rocky abiding-place of
the robbers, as we have already described it. Marks of its offensive
features, however, had been so modified as not to occasion much alarm.
The weapons of war had been studiously put out of sight, and apartments,
distinct from those we have seen, partly the work of nature, and partly
of man, were assigned for the accommodation of the new-comers. The
outlaws had their instructions, and did not appear, though lurking and
watching around in close and constant neighborhood.
Nor, in this particular alone, had the guilty parties made due provision
for their future safety. The affair of the guard had made more stir than
had been anticipated in the rash moment which had seen its consummation;
and their advices warned them of the approach of a much larger force of
state troops, obedient to the direction of the district-attorney, than
they could well contend with. They determined, therefore, prudently for
themselves, to keep as much out of the way of detection as they could;
and to avoid those risks upon which a previous conference had partially
persuaded them to adventure. They were also apprized of the greater
excitement attending the fate of Forrester, than could possibly have
followed the death, in his place, of the contemplated victim; and,
adopting a habit of caution, heretofore but little considered in that
region, they prepared for all hazards, and, at the same time, tacitly
determined upon the suspension of their numerous atrocities--at least,
while a controlling force was in the neighborhood. Previous impunity had
led them so far, that at length the neighboring country was aroused, and
all the better classes, taking advantage of the excitement, grew bolder
in the expression of their anger against those who had beset them so
long. The sheriff, Maxson, had been something tutored by these
influences, or, it had been fair to surmise that his scruples would have
been less difficult to overcome.
In the meantime, the pursuit of Ralph Colleton, as the murderer of
Forrester, had been hotly urged by the officers. The pursuers knew the
route, and having the control of new horses as they proceeded, at
frequent intervals, gained of course at every step upon the unconscious
travellers. We have seen the latter retiring to repose at a late hour of
the night. Under the several fatigues which all parties had undergone,
it is not strange that the sun should have arisen some little time
before those who had not retired quite so early as himself. At a
moderately late hour they breakfasted together--the family of the
wagoner, and Ralph, and our old friend the pedler. Pursuing the same
route, the two latter, after the repast, separated, with many
acknowledgments on both sides, from the emigrating party, and pursued
their way together.
On their road, Bunce gave the youth a long and particular account of all
those circumstances at the village-inn by which he had been deprived of
his chattels, and congratulated himself not a little on the adroit
thought which had determined him to retain the good steed of the Lawyer
Pippin in lieu of his losses. He spoke of it as quite a clever and
creditable performance, and one as fully deserving the golden honors of
the medal as many of those doings which are so rewarded.
On this point his companion said little; and though he could not
altogether comprehend the propriety of the pedler's morals, he certainly
did not see but that the necessity and pressing danger of his situation
somewhat sanctioned the deceit. He suggested this idea to Bunce, but
when he came to talk of the propriety of returning the animal the moment
he was fairly in safety, the speculator failed entirely to perceive the
moral of his philosophy.
The sheriff's officers came upon the wagoner a few hours after the two
had separated from him. The intelligence received from him quickened
their pace, and toward noon they descried our travellers ascending a
hill a few hundred yards in advance of them. A repeated application of
the spur brought them together, and, as had been anticipated by Rivers,
Ralph offered not the slightest objection, when once satisfied of the
legality of his arrest, to becoming their prisoner. But the
consternation of Bunce was inexpressible. He endeavored to shelter
himself in the adjoining woods, and was quietly edging his steed into
the covert for that purpose, on the first alarm, but was not permitted
by the sharp eyes and ready unscrupulosity of the robber representatives
of the law. They had no warrant, it is true, for the arrest of any other
person than "the said Ralph Colleton"--but the unlucky color of Pippin's
horse, and their perfect knowledge of the animal, readily identifying
him, did the business for the pedler.
Under the custody of the laws, therefore, we behold the youth retracing
his ground, horror-stricken at the death of Forrester--indignant at
the suspicions entertained of himself as the murderer, but sanguine
of the result, and firm and fearless as ever. Not so Bunce: there
were cruel visions in his sight of seven-sided pine-rails--fierce
regulators--Lynch's law, and all that rude and terrible sort of
punishment, which is studiously put in force in those regions for the
enjoyment of evil-doers. The next day found them both securely locked up
in the common jail of Chestatee.