CHAPTER XX.
The sun had risen high, the day was bright and beautiful; the green sea was just curled by a light breeze, and the schooner (of which by the way, Captain Longly was undoubtedly a principal owner) skimmed quickly but easily over the waters. Having no nautical knowledge, we shall leave all the particulars of the sailing of the ship to the imagination of our readers, which, in all probability, will do much more for it than anything that we could do, and confine our attention solely to the persons in whose fate we have already endeavoured to interest the world.
Charles Tyrrell and Lucy had been received by the master of the schooner with every sort of bluff attention and respect. A high price had been agreed upon for their passage--a strong recommendation had come from the much reverenced Captain Longly, and Lucy and her lover now sat together near the side of the vessel, while the maid down stairs, with a predetermination of being sick, was indulging her fancy in that respect, and good John Hailes walked up and down the deck as a passenger, and for the first time in his life, perhaps, turned his eyes to the receding shores of his native land with grief, regret, and hopelessness.
When they had thus gone on some way, and their escape seemed perfectly certain, Charles Tyrrell beckoned Hailes toward him, and spoke to him for a moment in a low voice. The man replied aloud:--
"Oh! yes, yes, sir, certainly. God bless you, sir, we are too grateful to you a great deal, for having hidden the matter for such a time, at the risk of your own life, to wish you to hide it any longer. Both I and Captain Longly told Master Morrison to say, you might do just as you pleased, but I'm sure my young lady here ought to know. I wonder you did not tell her before."
"I had taken the resolution," replied Charles Tyrrell, "not to tell anybody one word till either I was out of England, or you and Longly were. But, however, I may tell her now without any breach of confidence."
He then resumed his seat by Lucy Effingham, and told her for the first time the history of his adventures on that day, when, after a violent dispute with his father, he left Sir Francis in the library and hurried away into the park, as we have before shown.
The tale is not very long, but it required various other little incidents to be mingled with it, and we shall not relate it therefore exactly in Charles Tyrrell's own words, but endeavour to abbreviate it as much as possible.
While lying ill at the cottage of Hailes, the fisherman, Charles Tyrrell had been as kindly tended by Hannah Longly, as by any other of the inhabitants of the fisherman's abode, and as he recovered, he heard from Hailes himself a considerable part of her history, which he instantly connected in his own mind with what the officer of the revenue-cutter had told him concerning Lieutenant Hargrave's attempt to carry her off. He found that she was, now an exile from the house of her father, whose indignation at her having listened for a moment to a spy, and an informer, as he termed young Hargrave, was so great, that he vowed she should never enter his doors again. Nothing was said respecting Everard Morrison; and Charles Tyrrell, believing that although Hannah might possibly have acted rather imprudently, she was not near so much to blame as to call upon her head so severe a punishment, determined to do what he could to reconcile Longly to his daughter, by telling him what he had heard of her conduct from the officer of the revenue-cutter.
As soon as he was well enough to ride out, he visited Longly's house several times, but found his undertaking much more difficult to accomplish than he had anticipated. Sometimes Longly could not be found, and at another time there was somebody else present; and even when Charles, at length, had an opportunity of speaking with him in private, he met with a far greater degree of stern and dogged resistance in the old sailor than he had expected.
From him, however, he learned two things somewhat important in their way--in the first place, that Lieutenant Hargrave had been hovering around that neighbourhood ever since the duel; which fact confirmed his suspicions, as to the quarter from whence his father, Sir Francis Tyrrell, had derived intelligence of an event which was unknown in Oxford; and in the second place, that on the very day previous to her meeting with young Hargrave, Hannah had received and accepted a proposal from his own friend Everard Morrison, with which her father had been highly delighted.
Captain Longly, however, now swore that he would not let her marry an honest man like Morrison, even if Everard himself were still inclined to take her, and there were mingled with Longly's speeches, in regard to him he called that Jackanapes Hargrave, dark hints of some purposes of revenge upon him, which somewhat alarmed Charles Tyrrell.
To interfere between Everard and Hannah, was a thing that Charles Tyrrell would never have dreamed of attempting, unless fully and entirely convinced that she had not behaved ill. But still he laboured hard to reconcile her to her father, feeling that the harshness of his conduct was likely to drive her to evil by despair.
He seemed to make some impression upon Longly at length, and ere he left him the day before the fatal catastrophe of the death of Sir Francis Tyrrell, the old Captain shook him heartily by the hand, and thanked him for what he had done.
"I'll tell you what, Mr. Tyrrell," he said, "I am going to send down to John Hailes', at whose house the girl is this afternoon, and I'll hear what Hailes says about the matter--so you see, I'm coming up close to the park to-morrow, about a little business, and if you'll meet me just at the park-stile, at half-past eleven o'clock, exactly--I'll tell you the last word of my mind, as you take an interest in the silly girl. Mind, don't be later than half-past eleven, for I've got business to settle in a quarter of an hour or so afterward, and must be off."
Charles Tyrrell promised; and as it struck him, that if Longly and his daughter could once be brought to meet again, they might easily be reconciled; he wrote a note to Hailes immediately, and sent it to his cottage, telling him of his wishes; informing him that Longly had promised to meet him at the park-stile, and begging him to bring Hannah Longly there, in the hope of reconciling her to her father.
Two things, however, prevented Hailes from following his direction; the first of which was, that Hailes himself could not read a word of the letter, and was obliged to apply to Hannah to read it for him; and she, terrified at her father's anger, refused to go without his knowledge.
The second was, that Hailes, that night, had a conversation with Longly himself, which precluded the possibility of his obeying. That conversation, though we certainly cannot do full justice to it, we shall attempt to give, at least in part, as it was somewhat curious and characteristic.
"Well, old John Hailes," said Longly, as soon as the other entered his abode, "I want you to lend a hand in a matter, to-morrow, that, mayhap, you never meddled with before in your life."
"What is it, Captain?" demanded Hailes; "anything that I can do to serve you, I'm sure I will, with all my heart and soul."
"Why, the matter is this, Hailes," said Longly, "I'll not live a minute longer than I can help, without having my revenge on that fellow Hargrave; and I'm resolved to have satisfaction like a gentleman. Why shouldn't I, as well as another, though I fought my own ship and he fought the king's, and d----d badly too, if all stories were true. However, I know well enough, that if I were to sit down, like another, and write him a note, saying, 'Mr. Longly's compliments to Lieutenant Hargrave, looks upon him as a scoundrel, and will be obliged to him, to give him satisfaction'--he'd shirk the business, and talk about his being a king's officer; so I just copied out what I saw in a newspaper, and sent him, saying, 'If Lieutenant Hargrave will be under the park-wall of Sir Francis Tyrrell's park, at twelve o'clock, tomorrow, precisely, he will hear of something to his advantage;' and I wrote down below, 'If he doesn't like coming alone, he can bring a friend with him.' I gave it to a shrewd boy to carry, and told him not to tell him who it came from; and the little rascal made up a story for himself, and told him it was a lady had given it to him. So he'll come, you may be sure, Hailes, and if once I get him under the park-wall, he shall have his choice of the pistols, and stand a long-shot, or I'll know the reason why. So I want you, John, to come and be a witness, and see that I do everything fair, and let him have his shot before I take mine."
Hailes agreed, very willingly, to go: for without attempting to define the idea in his own mind, of absolutely killing Lieutenant Hargrave, the good fisherman could not have conceived a more pleasurable excursion than one, the object of which was to punish a person whom he considered as a most odious villain.
The matter was all arranged, and Longly set out, to be at the park-stile, which was at some distance from the spot he had appointed for his meeting with Hargrave, in time to hold the conference he proposed with Charles Tyrrell.
That gentleman, as we have seen, was delayed some time by the dispute with his father, and some time longer by finding the door of the garden, through which he had intended to take his way, locked, and the key taken out, instead of being, as usual, wide open. When he arrived at the park-stile, then, he found nobody on the spot; but he heard some voices talking loudly, at some distance, and fearing that Hannah and her father had met, without any person present, who might have sufficient influence to bring about a reconciliation between them, he hastened on, as fast as possible, toward the spot from which the sounds appeared to come.
What was his surprise, when on arriving at the ground, he found Longly, with a pistol in one hand, insisting upon Lieutenant Hargrave taking the other, which he held out to him, and John Hailes standing by, with the pistol-case, an extraordinary and not very expert second. Hargrave was as pale as death, and as Charles came up, he heard him say:--
"Sir, your design is to murder me, I see it clearly--to murder me for doing my duty as a British officer, and giving information of a gang of smugglers, of which you are the head. You may commit the murder, if you will; but it shall be all upon your head; for I will not countenance it by taking the pistol. I have done my duty, and that is enough; and I must take the consequences."
"Come, come, Master Lieutenant, that won't do," replied Captain Longly. "What I demand satisfaction for, is for nothing to do with the smuggling, but for coming to my house and trying to seduce my daughter, and making her go away to meet you in the wood."
"I declare to Heaven," cried young Hargrave, "she's as innocent as you are."
"Ay, ay, innocent enough, I dare say," replied Longly; "if I thought she wasn't, I'd pitch her into the sea. But it's not for want of your trying to make her otherwise, and that's what I demand satisfaction for."
"You demand satisfaction?" cried Hargrave, his blood beginning to get up; "what right have you to ask for satisfaction of a king's officer? Oh, here is Mr. Tyrrell come, I suppose, to aid and abet in this business."
But Longly replied at once, without taking any notice of Charles Tyrrell for the moment--
"What right have I to demand satisfaction!" he said, looking for the time really dignified, "I'll tell you what right I have, Mr. Hargrave; first, I have fought the enemies of my country oftener and better than yourself; next, you have come, of your own goodwill, to dine at my table; you have borrowed money out of my purse; you have shaken my hand, and owned that I was a good friend to you; and if I was good enough to be your friend, when you behaved well, I am quite good enough to be your adversary, now that you have behaved ill; so you sha'n't slink off under your quality, like a lousy Dutch lugger under British colours. Mr. Tyrrell, you didn't come to your time; but I'll talk to you in a minute, after I've settled with this fellow."
"Longly, Longly, think what you are doing," said Charles Tyrrell, coming up closer, "you are very much in the wrong, depend upon it."
"Why, do you, too, mean to say that I am not as much entitled to satisfaction as any gentleman among you all?" demanded Longly. "I'll tell you what, Mr. Tyrrell----"
But Charles Tyrrell interrupted him.
"I do not mean to say that you have no right. If we have a title to make fools of ourselves at all, I'm sure I do not see why one person should not do it, as well as another; but the matter is this, Longly: here, in the case of Mr. Hargrave, you have two offences mingled up together, and you never can separate them, either in your mind, or in the eye of the law. He, I understand, informed against you, in regard to some matter of smuggling, which has not been proved, and though he may have behaved very ill in other respects, yet depend upon it, it will always be considered that you sought revenge for that offence, and if you shoot him, you'll be hung, to a certainty."
"I don't care a ----," replied Longly, "I say it's about his conduct to my daughter, that I've brought him here, and he shall fight me, or I, and John Hailes here, will turn him round, and kick him from this spot to the town, and all down the High street, which will be a pleasant thing, won't it, for one of the king's officers, as he calls himself, so you may stay and see if you like it, for what I've said I'll do."
"Oh, I shall certainly not stay a moment longer," replied Charles Tyrrell, "I cannot prevent you; but I have warned you how wrong you are;" and turning on his heel, he walked back toward the stile, over which he had come, just as Lieutenant Hargrave, who was growing angry, was chiming in with a reply not at all likely to soothe the indignation of the other.
Before Charles Tyrrell had gone a hundred yards, however, he heard some one exclaim, "Make ready! present! fire!" which was instantly followed by the discharge of a pistol. He could not resist the temptation to turn round and look, and he beheld Longly and his adversary, standing at the distance of about twelve yards from each other. A pistol was in Lieutenant Hargrave's hand, and his arm dropped by his side as if he had just discharged it. At the same time Longly's arm was extended, and at the very moment that Charles Tyrrell turned round, there came a flash from the pistol, a quick report, and Lieutenant Hargrave staggered, fell upon his knee, struggled up again, and then fell back at full length upon the ground.
Charles immediately ran up, and joined Longly and Hailes, who had gathered round the body. The unfortunate young man drew one or two convulsive gasps after Charles Tyrrell arrived, but he uttered not a word, and though he once or twice opened his eyes, it was evidently with no consciousness of anything that surrounded him. In a moment after, he gave a sharp shudder, the small remains of colour in his once florid countenance was succeeded by an awful ashy paleness, and though it was afterward found as we have seen from Hailes's account, that he revived twice before the spirit finally departed, Charles Tyrrell and his companions were fully convinced that he was dead at that very time.
They all gazed on him for a moment as he lay stretched upon the grass, and then Longly turned to the young gentleman saying:--
"Now, Mr. Tyrrell, if you think as you did just now, you have nothing to do but to go and send down people to take us up. As for any wrong I've done, my heart's at rest; I've given him the first shot at myself, and if he was such a fool and such a coward as not to be able to hit such a great grampus as I am, that's not my fault. But he's had fair play and a good distance, and so help me God, when I come to lie like him, as I have thought of nothing throughout this morning, but his shameful conduct to my poor motherless girl; so now go if you will and send down constables for us, for if I'm to be hanged, I've had something for it at least."
"No, no, Longly," replied Charles Tyrrell, holding out his hand to him, "I will betray no man, and give you my honour, unless I am put upon my oath against you, will never say one word of what I have seen this day. I am sorry for you, Longly, for I fear the time will come that you will bitterly repent what you have done."
"Not I, not I!" replied Longly, "I have done nothing but what's right, and what he well deserved; but I always knew you were a gentleman and a man of honour, Mr. Tyrrell, and I'm very much obliged to you, for you see if you hold your tongue, nobody need know anything about this business. There's a man here, living not many hundred yards off, in whom I can trust, and if we can but get the body there without being caught, we can stow it away, and nothing more be said about it."
A slight shudder came over Charles Tyrrell's frame, and he replied:--
"With that, of course, I can have nothing to do, Longly, but in everything else you may depend upon me. I will in no degree betray you, for I feel for you, even though I think you are wrong."
"No, no;" replied Longly, "of course you can have nothing to do with the business, so the sooner you are gone the better. God bless you, sir, and make you happy."
And without reply, Charles Tyrrell turned once more, and hurrying along under the park-wall, re-entered the domain, not by the stile at which he was to have met Longly, but by that which led to the end of the lady-walk.
With his mind filled with painful images from what he had seen, he returned to the house and traversed the library, as we have before seen without speaking to Mr. Driesen, or, indeed, holding communication with any one, till he had entered his own room and locked the door, that he might have a few minutes to calm his mind, and think, without interruption, over what had occurred.
He had remained there for some time, before he perceived that in raising up the head and shoulders of the unhappy young man, whom he had just seen slain, both his hands and shooting-jacket had been stained with blood, and though he did not think it necessary to take any means of removing the spots from the shooting-jacket, he washed his hands with a feeling of horror and disgust at finding them dabbled all over with human gore.
He had scarcely finished, when Mr. Driesen knocked at his door, and feeling himself perfectly innocent, he opened it without hesitation.
Of the affair between Longly and young Hargrave he heard no more, till he himself became the tenant of a prison. But the news of what had occurred at Harbury park spread through the country, and was bruited in all the newspapers.
Before two days were over, Longly found that Charles had suffered a verdict of "Wilful murder" to be returned against him, and had allowed himself to be carried to prison, rather than declare where he had spent that time, which he, Longly, himself could but too well account for; and, moreover, that his hands and coat had appeared stained with blood, which he, Longly, himself had shed.
As soon as this was known to him, he sent off for young Morrison, and the result we have already seen.
Such was the tale that Charles Tyrrell had to tell to Lucy Effingham, as she sat beside him on the deck of the vessel; and in telling it, though he softened some of the circumstances as far as possible, and entered into none of the minute details which had pained and horrified himself, he told her enough to agitate her by very different emotions; by joy and satisfaction to find that there existed a power of proving his innocence beyond all doubt, yet mingled with horror and dismay by his account of scenes, into the passions producing which, a gentle woman's heart could but feebly enter.