CHAPTER XVIII
My liberation did not come to pass so quickly as Mr. Ulceby had hoped, for the justices and the sheriff and the commander of the castle, and I know not how many authorities besides, all had something to say in the matter. After my friend's testimony that I was not his son had been accepted, I supposed I should be set free at once, but no such thing! "If I was not Jim Ulceby, who was I?" "Where was Jim Ulceby?" "How came I to resemble him?" So the authorities demanded, and seemed to think these questions must be answered before they gave me my liberty. One magistrate, whose gravity and dulness were of equal magnitude, took it into his head that a plot of some kind was on foot. If he could have had his way, I believe he would have put me to bodily torture; to torture of mind he often put me, coming to "examine the prisoner," by asking the most absurd questions, looking as solemn as an owl the while. I never understood his drift, nor I believe did he. Mr. Ulceby warned me of this man's first visit, and implored me to endure it with all the patience I could muster; so I contrived to keep my temper, and in the end the ass was good enough to express the judgment "that I was a blind instrument of the conspirators." That there was a conspiracy he was well assured.
Acton gave us some trouble at first, holding that I was in fact his one-time crony, and that Mr. Ulceby had taken the course of denying me, as the one means of saving me from transportation to America. He declared that no man would be at the pains and cost which Mr. Ulceby took on my behalf for a stranger, and claimed "hush-money." When he could not extort that, he did his worst against me secretly. Even when the surgeon had restored me to something more like my former looks, Acton would not be convinced. The surgeon did me good service by giving evidence as to the recent date of the distortion of my face, which was corroborated by the sergeant who brought me to Hull. He testified that he had been perplexed when he arrested me by the freshness of the tattooing and of the scars. But eight days passed before my good friend, who had been unceasing in his exertions in my cause, came with the order for my release. Every comfort which money could procure during those weary days I enjoyed, and Mr. Ulceby gave me as much of his time as might be spared from the business of expediting my deliverance. After the second day of durance I kept to my own room. On that day I had the curiosity to look over the prison. It consisted of two houses which had been thrown into one, and of buildings which occupied two sides of a quadrangle behind them. These buildings would not have been used as stabling by a man who valued his horses. Here the wretches were confined who could not, or would not, pay for accommodation within the house; some of them kept safely by being laid on the floor with iron bars across their legs; others having liberty to stand upright, but chained to staples in the wall. Some were free to roam the yard, variously ironed and fettered. The most part were half starved and in rags, the most miserable creatures I had ever seen.
The inmates of the house were such as had means to pay the exorbitant charges which the jailer made for food and lodging and fees for this, that, and the other. Many of these had money to waste in gambling and drunkenness, but few had any compassion for their poverty-stricken fellow-prisoners. In this den were prisoners awaiting trial, prisoners under sentence, and prisoners who had been acquitted, now detained for payment of the jailer's charges; prisoners of both sexes and of all ages, from childhood to decrepitude. While I was making the round of the yard, a greasy fellow came to one of the windows, and calling to the crowd, threw out the orts and scraps of his breakfast, for which the hungry wretches scrambled. In the struggle two women fell out and began to fight, tearing, scratching, and biting with the fury of tigresses, while men stood round them laughing and betting as to which would be the victrix. Turning away from this, I came upon a ragged, miserable creature, who lay moaning and whimpering in a corner. He had tried to climb the wall with the aid of a rope which a friend had managed to convey to him, but had been caught in the effort; so the jailer and his men had beaten the soles of his feet to a horrible condition. A few of the prisoners lay about dead drunk, the objects of the envy of others, who had not the luck to have friends able and willing to give them liquor. Much that I saw and heard is not to be described. I took refuge from the little hell in the solitude of my own room, right thankful I had not been compelled to herd with the vile and wretched crew. In a sense it was lucky for me that Acton held to the belief that I was Jim Ulceby, for he made it loudly known, and so saved me from being molested by the bullies in the house, who feared to meddle with one who had the repute of never failing to pay back in full any ill turn that might be done him.
Not until the fourth day of my incarceration did I receive a letter from Anna, for Mr. Ulceby's messenger had been delayed by one mishap after another, howbeit they need not be set down here. All the day I read and re-read that precious letter, wondering how a pen, which in my hand is an unwieldy tool, came to be such a wand of magic in hers, that I could, in a manner, hear her clear voice, and almost see her sprightly smile and the sudden coming of her tears. I will copy parts of the letter here, for they tell the story far better than it could be told in words of mine.
"When Luke brought me your letter, in which you promised to come on the day following, he told me of the wickedness of Sebastian Vliet, and I made him repeat the matter in my father's hearing. But when Luke went on to say you had sent a challenge to your would-be murderer, I was almost beside myself with anger that you should risk your life so lightly in fighting with a wretch so infamous. For a brief moment I thought you had slain my love by your folly, but I soon knew it still lived by the sinking at my heart for fear of what might be devised against you by so crafty a coward. When I learned that Vliet had gone to meet you alone and armed only with a sword, you may be sure all his doings were watched as closely as two women knew how to do. It filled me with wonder. But my fears were redoubled by Vermuijden's report of what had happened, which was that you had fled from Vliet in sudden terror, and gone he knew not whither. A lie so gross and palpable made me certain some foul deed had been done, but what I could not guess, and for days I was as one bereft of reason.
"At last came the news of the finding of a body in a pond, said to be yours: but I could not believe you were dead. My father and Martha and Luke thought me distraught with grief, but my heart said you were still alive. And as my wits returned, I questioned Luke particularly about the dead man. That he was of your height and build, and dressed in your clothes were no sufficient proofs to me. I doubted whether fishes alone had disfigured the face beyond knowledge, and the condition of the man's breast seemed unaccountable. I asked whether there was trace of any deadly wound; and was answered 'None.' How, then, came the body into the pond? If you, even in the dark, had stumbled into the water, you were strong enough to get out again. No one could have thrown you in, unless he had first stunned you with a blow from behind, and there was no mark of such a blow. Luke told me what was found in the pockets: your purse and the coins which it contained, a ring of keys, your penknife, and your seal. But no word of the half of a ninepenny bit. I felt assured my Frank had not thrown away or lost his love-token. So my mind did in some degree confirm my heart's faith, although every one thought my hope the veriest madness.
"And now to tell you a strange thing. The day after that body was committed to the grave, I sat here, wearied out with thinking and wondering, and I saw you stretched on a couch in what looked like a church crypt. You were bound hand and foot, and by the light of a lamp hanging from the wall behind you, I could see blood upon your face. A man came out of the shadowed part of the room, and stood so that he hid your face from me, and then all faded from my sight. I cried out to my father, who sat near me reading, 'Frank is alive! I have seen him.' I described the place and your state to my father, being perfectly sure of the truth of what I had seen. He sought to convince me I had dreamed it, but I knew I had not closed my eyes; and, besides, there was I know not what of reality in the sight, which would not suffer me to doubt. I sent for Luke, who was in the house at the time, and inquired of him whether he knew of such a room as I had seen, but he could not help me. My own mind ran on the dungeons of Castle Mulgrave, and I gave my father no rest until he ventured with me, professing his desire to consult a book in the earl's library as the reason of our going. I pretended a whim to see the vaults of the castle, and the old nobleman gave order to his seneschal to take me through them, who did so willingly, he and I being great friends. (He it was who gave me my lessons in riding on my first visit to the castle, so you see your one-time jealousy was misplaced.) From him I heard that Lord Sheffield had his abode at present at Normanby, where he led a life less restrained than was possible under his father's roof, which set me thinking that there might be underground rooms there; but my guide assured me there was not so much as a wine-cellar. 'It was,' he said, 'a poor place, but honoured by my lord's residence when heavy drinking and high play and other delights were desired. For the last ten days the revelling had been perpetual.' Had your disappearance anything to do with this merrymaking? I asked myself. I would set Luke to spy upon the comings and goings of his lordship, I resolved, little as he was fitted by nature for the part. But on our return, which was made in safety, I found Martha in distress about the poor fellow, who had struck his foot with an axe, while chopping wood, and he is even yet hobbling on a crutch. Will it always be that we poor women must depend, even in maddening anxiety, on the aid of men? If I had been free, I should have donned the garb of manhood, and ridden the length and breadth of the Isle to find you, for I had the feeling that your prison was not very far away.
"But at length, three days before your messenger brought me this letter—which I have wet with happy tears, and kissed a thousand times, and held in my hand and looked at, even while I poured out my thanks to God—at length came the beautiful gipsy girl, who had seen you, spoken with you, touched you. I have much to say to you about the dark beauty, and some questions to ask you. Our meeting was a strange one (of that another time), but before long we were sobbing in each other's arms. And we had arranged to follow and find you on the very day your letter arrived."
Of Vliet, Anna had no more to tell than I already knew, that he had been arrested, and that he had escaped and disappeared. She wrote of her father as being wholly taken up with researches and experiments regarding ague, and full of hope to find a preventive against that sickness. Vermuijden had hired a number of the poorer sort of Islonians to work with the Dutch, but their neighbours were so bitter against them for this going over to the enemy as to render it necessary to provide lodging for them within the settlement. Nevertheless, Anna had confidence that the step would tend to amity and a good understanding in due time.
On the third day after the receipt of this letter, Mr. Ulceby came to me with the order for my release duly signed and countersigned, and as soon as we had settled with Acton, I was once more a free man. My good friend had reckoned on my impatience to be on the road to Sandtoft, and had provided breakfast at the nearest inn, his house being on the other side of the town.
When the meal was eaten, three horses were brought to the door, one for me, one for my friend, and one for his manservant. Mr. Ulceby believed he had been spied upon and followed several times during his visits to my prison, and feared my enemies were on the alert; hence his purpose to accompany me to the Isle.
"Three men, well mounted and well armed, might travel much more safely than a single horseman," said he.
I may here say that there was no need, as we afterwards came to know, of all this care for my protection, Boswell having never counted on my being delivered from the prison.
We rode with no more serious mishap than the shying of my horse at the flapping of a cloth, which a housewife came to her door to shake as we were passing.
We crossed Trent at Burringham Ferry and went by Crowle Causey, it being my intent to see my friend in quarters at the White Hart, and leaving him there, to ride south to Belton, and thence to Sandtoft by the embankment, but this was not his mind. He would have no nay but we should dine together, procure fresh horses, and he and his man go with me to the settlement. Impatient though I was to see my love, I was too much bound to Mr. Ulceby to refuse to do as he would have me, seeing how he, had set his heart on this thing. After we had eaten and drunk, we went on our way, and Mr. Ulceby with great delicacy spoke of what I was to do to earn a livelihood. He did not approve my plan of joining myself to a company of adventurers, or of enlisting in the military service of a foreign prince. He had another scheme for me, which was that I should enter into his business, either as his agent and clerk, or, if mercantile affairs were distasteful to me, as supercargo on one of his ships, with a prospect of coming to the command of a vessel, when I had gained a sufficient degree of seamanship. He spoke as if he thought he ought to make excuse for offering occupation so humble to one of my birth and breeding, but pointed out that a competency might much more certainly and speedily be made by such means than by exploring American forests or engaging as a soldier of fortune. And he touched on the need he would have shortly for a partner, whose youthful energy might supply the lack of his own declining strength. He ended by saying—
"I am but a plain, blunt fellow, Mr. Vavasour, with no more learning than I got at a dame's school, and unused to the ways of gentlefolks, so I trust you will excuse me if I put it badly; but if your heart's desire is to prepare a cage for your singing-bird, I think it will be most quickly gratified by condescending to trade."
Had such an offer been made me only a month before, assuredly I should have rejected it with scorn, but one may learn a good deal in a month, especially if part of it be spent in prison. Even now I had no liking for a seat on an office stool with a pen behind my ear, or going to and fro as a chapman. The command of a ship would be more to my taste truly, though its cargo might be hides or stockfish or whales' blubber. But I was in no case to consider liking and misliking. I had not a penny of my own, or any present likelihood of gaining one, but in the manner Mr. Ulceby had indicated. The clothes I wore, the food I had eaten these ten days, his money had bought; and it was by his kindness and the mercy of God that I was not now groaning in the hold of a slave-ship. So I made him a reply suitable to his generosity, signifying my readiness to undertake such duties as I might prove to be fit for, albeit I had the gravest doubt about the matter, because of my ignorance and want of capacity. This vastly pleased him, and he went on to tell me his mind had been set on coming to Sandtoft with me, partly because he thought himself better able to lay the matter before Doctor Goel, if I accepted the offer.
"I am older, and used to reason with old folk," he said; and then lapsed into silence, smiling as if he had pleasant thoughts which he kept to himself.
I also inclined to silence. Welcome though the chance was to earn my bread, and maybe something more in time, I could not rid myself of the feeling that it was a dreary destiny for the last of the Vavasours of Temple Belwood to become a fish merchant, notwithstanding I knew so well that a fish merchant might be as worthy and generous a man as any squire in Axholme or in England. Little did I think that in a few hours I should envy the safety and freedom of the poorest quill-driver in the kingdom. Ah, me! if I had had the foreknowledge, it would only have spoiled for me the bit of pure happiness which was soon to be mine.