Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and II

by G. P. R. James

CHAPTER X.

Charles Tyrrell made the best of his way back towards the park by a different line from that which he had taken in coming; for the path which he had followed, though the nearest of the manifold paths, and much nearer than the high road itself, was about twice the length which it might have been rendered if the makers thereof had chosen to take a straight line. He accordingly cut across the grounds of the manor-house towards the paling which separated them from the park, vaulted over the fence, and, taking his way through the midst of the trees and even the underwood, gained a compensating five or ten minutes for the half hour more than needful which had been given to Lucy and Mrs. Effingham.

When he entered the library of Sir Francis, he found that worthy gentleman in his element, the two friendly justices having arrived, to one of whom he was laying down the law upon various matters of county jurisprudence, while the other was undergoing Mr. Driesen, for we know of no other way to express ourselves, seeing that that gentleman was operating upon him with the calm cruelty of a surgeon in large practice, or a professed torturer of the Inquisition, making use of a passage from Aristophanes as the rack, and enjoying the writhings of his victim when he insisted upon his giving his view of a long quotation, of which he neither understood nor could remember one single word. The unhappy man, it seems, had acquired a certain degree of reputation for learning in the county, by occasionally misquoting to his brother justices some of the Latin headings to the papers in the Rambler and Spectator; and Mr. Driesen, it would seem, had determined, from the first, to do justice upon him as soon as he could meet with him. He had, consequently, dragged him close up to Sir Francis and the other justice, and endeavoured, as far as possible, to call them from Sir Francis's discussion upon the law, to witness his infliction upon the worthy personage he was persecuting.

No sooner did Charles appear than the poor man darted towards him for refuge, leaving Mr. Driesen grinning at him with triumph and contempt; but Sir Francis had also his word to say to his son, and immediately remarked,

"Why, Charles, I should have supposed those enormous long legs of yours might have carried you to the manor-house and back somewhat more rapidly."

"Under ordinary circumstances they would have done so," replied Charles Tyrrell, coolly: for all that had passed between him and Lucy, although it had left his mind in no slight state of agitation, had also left it in as placable a mood as it is possible to conceive. "I met with various little incidents on the road, sir," he added, with a smile, "none of them very disagreeable indeed, but which served to detain me. In the first place, I met Miss Effingham coming up here to console you and my mother for the absence of your affectionate son, who she fully believed had departed, not this life, but this house, on his journey to Oxford."

"You are pleased to be facetious, sir," said his father, dryly. "Pray what was the next little incident? I suppose this was not a disagreeable one, certainly."

"Of course not," replied Charles; and, as he had predetermined, he went on: "I had next to knock down a man dressed like a sailor, who had followed Miss Effingham into the park, and was insolent to her."

"Indeed," cried every one, while their eyes opened somewhat wider with astonishment, and Sir Francis added, "I must really have some stop put to this. It is now the fifth or sixth time within the last week, I think, that sailors have been found wandering about in the park. The gamekeepers must not do their duty, or else such people would not be in five minutes without their finding them. And so," he continued, renewing the attack upon his son, "you made yourself the champion of Miss Effingham, did you? for which she was, of course, very grateful, doughty sir."

"Certainly," replied Charles; "I could not refuse to become the lady's champion when you were not present, sir, to defend your fair favourite; and even more, after that was all over, and she had a little recovered, I escorted her home to the manor-house, as she was not disposed to come on here, judging that you would not be quite so inconsolable as she thought, as I was to remain another day."

"I hope you gave my message to Mrs. Effingham," continued his father.

Charles replied in the affirmative; and as Sir Francis chose, when in society, to assume the character of a very amiable and placable parent, though he could hardly suppose that he really deceived anybody by so doing, he dropped the matter there, and resumed his conversation with his brother justice.

Nearly half an hour more elapsed without any notice being given that the persons expected had arrived, and the conversation began naturally to turn upon the subject of their meeting, when Charles, though he did not think fit to ask any questions, gathered that the important business on which his father had detained him was neither more nor less than the examination of a gang of smugglers, one of the largest and most important seizures having been made on the coast the night before which had been known for many years. This had been effected by the custom-house officers, aided by the crew of the revenue cutter; but for the apprehension of the smugglers themselves, as the contraband articles had not been found actually in their possession, the civil power had been called in, and the necessary authority given by Sir Francis Tyrrell.

While Charles was step by step discovering these facts, the door of the library was thrown open, and no less than two-and-twenty men, of different kinds and stations, poured into the room. The greater part of them remained, however, at the farther end, while a young gentleman in naval uniform advanced to the magistrates, and informed them that he believed, with the assistance he had received from the civil power, he had succeeded in capturing almost all the persons implicated. The prisoners had sent off, he said, for a lawyer from the neighbouring town, to assist them before the magistrates, though he did not see what a landshark could do for the poor devils; but, however, as some desperate resistance had been made, and it might go hard with them for their lives if one of the constables who had been injured were to die, he thought it better, he said, to bring them up but slowly, while the messenger went on for the lawyer.

While he had been thus speaking, Charles Tyrrell had been examining attentively the group at the farther end of the room, and separating it into its constituent parts. The constables and other officers were immediately distinguished, and, in general, the boat's crew of the cutter could also be marked out from the rest. The group of smugglers stood in the middle, with the others sweeping round them, and one or two of them bearing evident marks of the contest in which they had so lately been engaged.

But the surprise and grief of Charles Tyrrell was not slight, to see standing beside another man, some ten or fifteen years older than himself, and bearing a strong resemblance to him, honest John Hailes, the father of the little boy who had so nearly drifted out to sea in the empty boat. The other person who stood next to him afterward proved to be William Hailes, whom we have already introduced to the reader under the name of Old Will. The younger of the brothers, John Hailes, had evidently been somewhat severely treated, having received a blow upon the forehead with a cutlass, the bleeding of which seemed scarcely to be stanched yet. William Hailes had met with less sharp usage, or had shown less resistance, and Charles doubted not that it was on account of the former, and the interest which he took in him from the little incident of having saved his child, that his father had required him to remain at Harbury Park that day.

It is certainly strange, the bond which exists between us and any one who has called into action towards them the better feelings of our nature. It seems as if they had made acquaintance with our hearts, and obtained an entrance at once on all occasions when strangers are not admitted. "We put a withering twig in the ground," says Sterne, "and then we water it because we have planted it." Whatever may be the philosophical cause of this tendency, Charles Tyrrell certainly felt far more interest in the case of John Hailes than he did in that of any one present; and advancing towards him, he asked him, not in a loud voice indeed, but not in a low one, how he happened to be in such a situation.

"Bless you, sir!" replied the man, "I've no more to do with it than you have. How I got the cut on the head, you see, is because these fellows came in upon me suddenly, and I not liking to be overhauled in that manner, knocked one of them down. That's the truth, I don't deny. But as for running the goods, I had no more to do with that than my boy Johnny. I wonder they didn't take him too; for you know well enough, sir, that he had nearly gone to sea without any papers aboard, poor boy. D----, they may do what they like; they can't do any harm to me; for I had no hand in running anything, so they can't make out that I had."

"But you should have submitted when you knew that there was a warrant out against you," replied Charles.

"I never knew anything of that," replied the man "Nobody ever told me of a warrant. But, just when I was stooping down over the chest in the window of the hovel, in comes one of these lubbers, and catches me by the jacket, telling me I must come away with him: so, you see, sir, I turned round and knocked him over, as was natural. Nobody can say much against that, I think."

"Come, come, Charles," cried Sir Francis, "wo must investigate this matter in a more orderly way. I don't see the use of waiting longer for the lawyer. We might remain here all day."

Charles endeavoured to persuade his father that it would be better to give a little more time for the arrival of the person who had been sent for; but, as a natural consequence, Sir Francis persisted in proceeding immediately, and had opened the business, when it was again interrupted by the entrance of no less a personage than Captain Long, with his pigtail at full length, accompanied by Everard Morrison, both bearing evident marks of having lost no time by the road.

As soon as Charles saw his old schoolfellow, he advanced and shook hands with him cordially; and though Everard received his friend's greeting with his usual calm and thoughtful demeanour, to those who knew him well it would have been evident, from the placid smile that hung upon his lip and the momentary brightness of his eye, that his meeting with Charles Tyrrell, and the warm reception given him by the baronet's son, were grateful to every feeling of his heart.

Charles instantly led him up to Sir Francis Tyrrell, and introduced him in form as the friend and schoolfellow whom he had so often heard him mention, and the baronet behaved by no means ill upon the occasion, treating the young lawyer with politeness and respect, and saying, that though, of course, the business must be conducted by the magistrates, and they could not suffer any one to interfere, yet it was extremely right and proper that a solicitor should be present on behalf of the prisoners, to watch the proceedings against them.

"Depend upon it, Sir Francis," replied young Morrison, "I should never dream of interfering but where the law authorized me, and my duty compelled me as the prisoners' solicitor. You will permit me, of course, to have a few minutes' conversation with them, in the first place?"

Sir Francis Tyrrell and the other justices consented, and Morrison, approaching the group at the other end of the room, bade the officers and others retire a little, in a tone which, though calm and quiet, was obeyed at once, and then spoke to each of the prisoners in turn for a single instant, seeming to ask none of them more than two questions, to which some of them answered briefly, some merely by a shrug of the shoulders or a shake of the head.

Towards the end of this proceeding, Captain Long walked up to one of the prisoners and spoke to him; when the young officer, who had remained standing by the magistrates, exclaimed, "Come, come, Master Longly, none of that. We know you well of old, and I am very sure that, if right were done, you would be standing among them yourself."

Longly eyed him from head to foot, while, by a slouching motion of his head, he caused his pigtail to project at full length, straight out over the collar of his jacket, and ejecting a considerable portion of tobacco-juice upon the Turkey carpet, he replied, "So you call yourself a sailor, do ye, you lubber?"

Everard Morrison instantly interfered. "You forget, sir," he said, turning to the officer, "that in this room you have no authority, and that it does not become you to bring a charge which you cannot sustain. Sir Francis Tyrrell is the person to interfere, if Mr. Longly does anything that is amiss, and Mr. Longly has, I know, too much respect for him not to bow at once to his decision."

Charles Tyrrell felt proud of his friend, and perhaps Morrison was himself in some degree affected by the knowledge that he was acting in the presence of Charles Tyrrell.

Into the particulars of the examination that ensued, it is not, perhaps, needful to enter minutely; at all events, not till we come to the case of the fisherman, John Hailes, and of another, whom the young lawyer set apart with him, in consequence of the answers which he seemed to receive from them. It appeared very clear, as a matter of fact, though perhaps not quite clearly proved, that William Hailes, the elder brother of the fisherman, had had a considerable share in smuggling the goods which had been seized. There were four or five other men similarly situated; and as their cases were gone through, one after the other, Charles Tyrrell could not help feeling convinced, though very willing to believe them innocent, that sufficient grounds existed for their committal, although he doubted whether a condemnation would follow.

In regard to the last of these men, however, a dispute arose which called forth his interference. None of the men had attempted any defence or said anything, apparently acting under the directions of their lawyer. But the last of this party was very anxious to vindicate himself, and one of the constables seemed as anxious to prove him guilty. The man said more than was necessary, certainly, upon his own cause, and the constable who had taken him, standing beside him, chose to comment on his words, and endeavoured to embarrass him even while under examination before the magistrates.

Morrison then interposed, saying, "You had better stand back, constable, and let the accuser answer for himself. Remember, Wilson, you are not bound to say anything; and, if you take my advice, you will be silent. Stand back, constable, I say; you are interfering in an improper manner."

"Come, come, Master Morrison," cried the constable, who was one of a sturdy, bull-headed race of men, even at that time forming a peculiar class in the peasantry of England, but who have since increased and multiplied to an amazing degree under the fostering care of new game-laws and parish unions; "Come, come, Master Morrison, give us none of your sauce I have as much right to meddle as you have, every bit, so stand back yourself, for I sha'n't for none of you."

Morrison was turning coolly to appeal to the magistrates, being accustomed to meet insolence of various kinds, and to deal with it tranquilly. But such was not the case with Charles Tyrrell, who was sitting at the moment at one end of the table, close to the prisoners, as they were brought up one by one before the magistrate; and fixing his eye upon the constable with a heightened colour, he said, "Stand back!"

The man looked at him for an instant, as if irresolute; but then replied, with dogged determination, "No, I sha'n't stand back!" and, almost before the words were out of his mouth, he was grasped by the collar of his coat, and sent reeling back into the midst of the group behind him, with a countenance flaming with rage and discomfited insolence.

"Charles, Charles," said Sir Francis Tyrrell, "command yourself, sir; command yourself; such a display of violence and passion is very unbecoming."

A smile ran over the countenances of the other magistrates at this exhortation; but Charles, who felt that he had indeed given way more than he ought to have done, instantly regained his temper, and replied, "I beg your pardon, sir; I have done wrong; but the man was insolent."

That insolence was but increased from the treatment he had met with. But Charles, who found that his own temper was not sufficiently placable to endure much more, left the matter to his father, on whom the constable speedily turned; and Sir Francis, whose powers of endurance were considerably less than those of his son, was in less than two minutes in such a state of excitement, that the other magistrates were obliged to interpose, and authoritatively to send the man out of the room.

The baronet was then speedily calmed, and the business before them proceeded in; but each of the persons present carried away their own version of the scene which had taken place. A thousand stories were built upon the foundation thus afforded, and the violence, rashness, and intemperate passion of the Tyrrell family became, perhaps for the hundredth time, a nine days' wonder in the county.

It was a peculiar feature in the character of Sir Francis Tyrrell, that any irritation which he endured left an impression on his mind, which lasted long in a sort of subdued and smothered state. If nothing occurred again to blow it into a flame, the fire became gradually extinct. But it showed itself, if that were not the case, by bursting forth upon slight causes, and aggravating every motive of offence. It also, even while kept under, made him bitterer, more severe, and more sarcastic than at other times; but, on the present occasion, his calmness only lasted for a very short period.

When the fisherman, John Hailes, was brought up to the table, with the other person whom Morrison had set apart, the young lawyer immediately commenced another method of proceeding, saying to the magistrates, "Now, gentlemen, against these two men there is not a shadow of evidence, as far as I can learn; and the accusation against them, when stripped of its exaggerations, is, that the man, John Hailes, and this other, named Henry Wilson, live upon the seashore, within a mile of the place where the smuggled goods have been seized. Hailes, it is true, is the brother of William Hailes, who lives nearer to the spot, and who was seen, we are told, with a barrow-full of the shingles, such as the goods were covered with; but even if it were proved--and there is not a shadow of proof that such is the case--that William Hailes smuggled the whole cargo with his own hands, that is not in the slightest degree a proof that his brother had anything to do with it. Unless, then, sufficient evidence be brought forward to show that Hailes and his companion were immediately and directly implicated in the transaction, I shall not only request you to discharge them immediately, but shall also bring before your notice, when the case is disposed of, the question of the assault committed upon them by the constables who apprehended them."

Sir Francis Tyrrell fired up immediately. "You are aware, sir," he said, with a frowning brow, "that they were apprehended in virtue of a warrant signed by me upon information on oath."

"Then I have only to say, sir," replied Morrison, "that the person who swore that oath committed perjury; and farther to observe, that the fact of the warrant was not notified to them till after the assault had been committed. It can be proved, that the moment the warrant was produced, and the officers made their authority known, they met with not the slightest resistance."

This was too much for Sir Francis Tyrrell, who answered with domineering and angry contempt, which was only aggravated by another cool but decided reply from the young lawyer. Everything that was sarcastic, everything that was violent, everything that was insulting, poured from his lips; and Charles, equally pained both for his father and his friend, could hardly make himself heard through the torrent of the baronet's eloquent vituperation. The moment that he did so, however, his father turned upon him as an object on which he had very frequently practised the peculiar sort of oratory in which he was indulging; and nothing that could gall or mortify him was left unsaid in the presence of the number of people who were then collected.

There was a terrible struggle in Charles Tyrrell's heart, and every one present saw it in the changing of his colour from fiery red to deadly pale, and the reverse, which took place two or three times while his father went on. Every word that he himself uttered seemed to lash the baronet into greater fury. He put no restraint upon himself of any kind; his eyes were seen gleaming forth from under his overhanging brows like live coals. His lips quivered, his nostrils expanded, his hands clinched, and after going on for five or six minutes without interruption, piling upon his son's head the wildest and falsest accusations, insinuations, and reproaches, he actually was forced to stop for want of breath and utterance.

Charles knew that his father would go on again as soon as he recovered power; but he felt that he could endure no more, for he too trembled with a struggle against himself; and taking advantage of the pause, he rose from the table to quit the room. The baronet, however, could hardly bear to lose the object of his indignation; and screaming, rather than speaking, he exclaimed, "Speak, sir, speak. What have you to say for yourself?"

Charles's resolution gave way, and he replied in a bitter tone, "I have only to say that I grieve for my father's disgrace; one day he will repent this conduct to his son;" and he instantly quitted the room.

"You hear, gentlemen, you hear," exclaimed Sir Francis Tyrrell, rolling his eyes from one of the magistrates to the other. "He threatens his father! I suppose that some of these days he will horsewhip me, to teach me the respect a father ought to entertain for his son."

One of the magistrates made an attempt to mediate in favour of Charles Tyrrell, but he speedily abandoned it, finding that the storm was likely to fall upon himself; and, in order to avoid any more irritation, he turned to the matter of the smuggling, and hurried through the cases that remained as fast as possible. Sir Francis, in the mood of the moment, would have committed anybody upon any evidence whatsoever; but the other magistrates found themselves bound to oppose such a proceeding; and John Hailes and his companion, with another man against whom there was no evidence at all, were discharged.

Everard Morrison, coolly and undismayed by all that had passed, gave notice that, as soon as he had collected evidence in regard to all the facts, he should take proceedings against the parties concerned in the arrest of John Hailes; but, fearful of a new tempest breaking forth, one of the other magistrates begged him to defer anything he had to say on the subject, to which he consented.

The rest of the business was then speedily arranged. Six of the smugglers were sent to the county jail, and the room was soon cleared. The magistrates immediately called for their horses and departed; and Sir Francis Tyrrell, knowing by Mr. Driesen's calm, cynical smile, that he had noted every word, and tone, and look during the fit of passion in which he had indulged, and had rather enjoyed the scene than otherwise, turned away from a man who, with all his causticity, had never yet given him an opportunity of quarrelling with him, took his hat and stick, and walked out into the park.

Mr. Driesen stood at the window, looking after him for a moment with a bitter smile; then stretched himself at length upon a sofa, took up a book, and, wrapped up in his own selfishness, forgot in two moments a scene which, like everything else that did not affect him personally, passed before his eyes like the performance of a play, without in the slightest degree affecting his heart.

In the mean while Charles Tyrrell had retired to his own room. For several minutes he buried his face in his hands, and struggled eagerly to suppress the tumult of angry feelings that still remained in his bosom. He used every motive, he recollected every inducement which could be suggested by common sense and philosophy, or the far surpassing power of religion: but the task was a long and a difficult one; and he was leaning with his arm on the window-sill, gazing over the park from the open window, when a servant entered the room and informed him that one of the gentlemen who had been below had come up to speak with him. Believing it to be one of the magistrates, and supposing that he had come for the purpose of effecting a reconciliation between him and his father, Charles ordered him to be admitted immediately; but was surprised to see the young officer who had appeared in command of the men belonging to the revenue cutter. He closed the door carefully behind him, and advanced towards Charles Tyrrell with a countenance expressive of candour and frankness, but, at the same time, of some degree of embarrassment.

"I am sorry, Mr. Tyrrell," he said, "I am really sorry to trouble you at such a moment as this, and upon such business. But, as I was coming along just now with the men we had taken, I met an old friend and messmate of mine, named Arthur Hargrave, who informed me that he had had some words with you, and that you had struck him; finding that I was coming on here, he asked me to do what, of course, I could not refuse, namely, to seek an opportunity of speaking with you, and demanding either an apology or immediate satisfaction of another kind."

Charles Tyrrell was in no mood for making apologies, and he replied, "I certainly did strike him, sir, and served him perfectly right. I shall, therefore, make no apology whatsoever for having chastised a person who deserved it. As he is an officer in his majesty's navy, I find, I will give him at once that satisfaction which his conduct does not merit; but as I am obliged to return to Oxford to-morrow, and, as you see, have no inducement to remain here, I can give him no great time for preparation, and will name, if you please, the hour of six to-morrow morning."

"These things can never be settled too soon, when once they are determined upon," replied the young officer: "and we will not fail to be upon the ground, if you will name the spot."

"That is easily settled," replied Charles. "You see that hill," he continued, pointing to Harbury Hill, the summit of which just peeped over the trees of the park, and was visible at his windows. "It is a good landmark for all the country round, so you cannot miss it. On the top there is a flat piece of ground, it having been an old encampment. We will meet there, if you please, at six precisely. I may have some difficulty in finding a friend to accompany me upon the occasion, as this neighbourhood is somewhat thin of gentlemen; but nothing shall prevent my coming."

A few formal speeches of a courteous and civil character ended the matter, and Charles, ushering his visiter to the door, closed it, and remained alone, to think over the approaching event and the necessary preparations. To whom could he apply, he asked himself. Where could he find pistols, for he had none of his own. Everard Morrison, he doubted not, was by this time gone; and even if he were not, Charles had little doubt that, if he made known his circumstances to him, and asked him to buy him pistols and accompany him to the field, the young lawyer would positively refuse to do either, and would cause his footsteps to be dogged by officers rather than assist him in a breach of the peace.

The only two other young men in the neighbourhood with whom he was at all intimate, he knew to be absent, and he paused thoughtfully over a situation of some difficulty and discomfort. His mind then suddenly reverted to Mr. Driesen. He would, it is true, have chosen any other person upon the first impulse; but that gentleman, nevertheless, upon second thoughts, appeared to him much more eligible than anybody he could select.

Charles Tyrrell was going to do what he knew to be wrong; what, upon every principle of reason and good feeling, he disapproved of, as the most stupid and absurd, as well as the most barbarous and criminal of worldly customs; and he felt, in a religious point of view, that he not only required that mental preparation which every man must desire before death, but that he had to ask of the Almighty, not only pardon for sins past, but pardon for the very crime he was about to commit, and which was likely to hurry him into the presence of God.

Mr. Driesen was a man without any religion, and, therefore, in all these respects he could give Charles neither comfort nor direction; but this was a matter with which his second could, of course, have nothing to do, and in every other respect he was well calculated to guide and assist him. He was a man of known courage; had some experience in such affairs; was troubled with no scruple or hesitation of any kind; and was prompt, active, and clear sighted. He could easily obtain the pistols for him from the nearest large town, without exciting suspicion in any one, and would, as Charles well knew, have no hesitation in regard to exerting himself under such circumstances.

He accordingly rang the bell, and ordered the servant to ask Mr. Driesen to speak with him; and in a few minutes after, that gentleman appeared, with some surprise in his countenance at the summons. Charles briefly explained to him the occurrences of the morning, and Mr. Driesen accepted the office of second at once, rubbing his hands with a certain degree of pleasure, though he declared duelling to be a very foolish thing indeed at the same time.

"Early to begin, Charles, early to begin," he said. "I never went out till I was six-and-twenty, and have not seen anything of the kind for twenty-five years. There was room in the mean while, however, to do a little business of the kind; but, upon my life, Charles, if you begin thus early and go on thus hotly, you will get your brains blown out some day. Six o'clock tomorrow, you say--Harbury Hill; well, I'll be ready, and come and knock at your door. Is there anything I can do for you in the mean while?"

"Why, I wish you to send for the pistols," said Charles, "without letting any one know it."

"What! haven't you got pistols?" demanded Mr. Driesen, with as much astonishment as if they were an indispensable ornament of a toilet-table; "but never mind, I'll lend you mine: I never travel without. There's no knowing when one may want them; and there can't be better pistols. I'd give them to you, Charles (for at my age it is not likely I shall want to use them), but they were sent me by a poor friend of mine when he was dying; shot through the liver, poor fellow! and I have a great regard for them. However, I will leave them to you in my will. You Tyrrells should never be without such companions."

Scarcely ten words more were said upon the subject; and Mr. Driesen, after ascertaining the difference between his watch and that of Charles Tyrrell, wished his friend good-by, and went away to read his book again.