Chapter Twenty Nine.

Happy News.

Several persons were carried off the decks of the wreck, and had it not been for the hardihood of those who rushed into the water, would inevitably have been swept away. Some of the crew, as the sea receded, leaped overboard and endeavoured to gain the shore. They also were helped in the same manner. Several poor fellows, however, were unable to reach the friendly hands held out to them, and were carried out by the waves. One of the number was, in another minute, dimly seen to be struggling forward on the curling summit of a foaming sea. Harry, who had ever been a bold swimmer, casting a rope about himself, now dashed in towards the almost exhausted man. Bravely he swam forward. He clasped him in his arms, and then shouting to his companions, was hauled up the beach in safety. A few more seas, came rushing in, and scarce a plank or timber of the lugger hung together. The greater number of the persons on board had been saved. They seemed, however, to be no strangers to most of the people on the beach. For some minutes Harry had been so busily engaged in rescuing others that he had not had time to speak to the person he had drawn out of the water. Great was his surprise, on returning to the drier part of the beach, when the light of a lantern fell on a man’s countenance he recognised—the features of his old acquaintance, Captain Falwasser. Several other persons were seated near him: one was a female, and the other an old man.

“What, my friend Harry Tryon!” exclaimed the captain, grasping him. “My life, I know, is not the first you have saved. Harry, I have news for you,” he said, as if recollecting himself. “You shall have it by-and-bye. But these poor people require to be housed. They are shivering with the cold, and I must confess that I should like to find myself before a warm fire.”

“Our cottage is at the service of as many as can get into it,” said Mr Kyffin, coming up to the captain. “Our friends here will, I have no doubt, take care of the rest.”

The lugger had come across empty, greatly to the disappointment of most of the bystanders.

“As fine a craft as ever floated has come to her end this night,” observed one of them. “Well, lads, there is nothing more to be done, so we will back to our homes and get some of these poor fellows put into warm beds.”

The captain and two old French people, with two or three more persons, accompanied Mr Kyffin and Harry to the cottage. As they reached the top of the cliffs, they saw, far and near, the beacon fires bursting forth, and heard the sound of guns firing in the distance.

“Why the people must suppose that the French are coming,” observed Mr Kyffin. “Depend upon it that is the idea. We shall have the whole army of volunteers down upon us before long, and when they find that you, captain, and your two old friends are the only invaders, they may be apt to feel rather irate; our safest plan will be to get housed comfortably before they come. It will do the young soldiers no harm to give them some useful exercise. I only hope, should the enemy ever come, that the guardians of our native land may be as wide awake as they appear to be to-night.”

The cottage was shortly reached. Susan, Harry’s old nurse, now grown into a comely matron, acted as housekeeper; a blazing fire in the kitchen soon restored warmth to their limbs, while all the garments which the house could furnish were brought forth to supply them with dry clothes. A steaming hot supper was after this placed on the table, round which Mr Kyffin’s guests thankfully assembled.

“Well, Harry, you wish to know the news I have brought, I doubt not,” said the captain, when at length he was sufficiently recovered to find the use of his tongue. “Had you not come down to-night to assist in saving me and these two country people of mine, in all human probability your friend Captain Everard would not have recovered possession of Stanmore. I am thankful to say, after much risk and anxiety, I succeeded in getting a copy of the marriage certificate which was of such importance, and to make security doubly sure, I brought over these two old people who were witnesses to his father’s marriage.”

“How can he ever repay you sufficiently?” said Harry; “I must set out immediately to let him know the result of your mission.”

“No, no, my dear boy, you have gone through sufficient fatigue to-night,” said Mr Kyffin. “You must do no such thing. The captain will not be the worse for spending another night without knowing that he can regain his property, and to-morrow morning we will go in due form, when, perhaps, as the gale last night must have blown away all your fever, you may be admitted into the presence of Mistress Mabel.”

Harry’s countenance lighted up with pleasure at this suggestion of his guardian. “Do you think she will see me?” he exclaimed. “She will not deem me unworthy to appear in her presence?”

“I don’t know what the young lady will think of your past doings, Master Harry,” observed Captain Falwasser, “but I rather think that, as you will take her a pretty fair certificate of your good conduct, you may have reason to hope that she will receive you condescendingly. I tell you, in my opinion, had it not been for you, Stanmore would have remained in the possession of the Sleech family as long as any of that sweet-sounding name exists. But see, my old friends, who do not understand the words that have been said, are nodding. Your kind housekeeper will, I dare say, see them put to roost.”

Before day had dawned, the sound of drums and fifes was heard, and looking out of the window, Harry saw approaching from various directions, and forming on the downs, numerous companies of volunteers. Several officers on horseback rode along the cliff at a rapid rate, stopping every now and then, sweeping with their spy-glasses the distant horizon. Not a sail, however, was to be seen. They consulted together, and were evidently disconcerted at finding no enemy to resist. He was about to go out and meet them, but remembering his guardian’s remarks on the previous evening, he thought that they might possibly cause some annoyance to the French captain.

“They may as well find out all about the lugger by themselves,” he thought.

After a time several of the coastguard appeared, when the military having fired their muskets towards the south in defiance of their expected invaders, once more wheeled about, and marched away to their respective homes.

“I like to see that sort of thing,” observed Mr Kyffin. “Englishmen will ever be found ready to defend their native shores.”

Mr Kyffin had sent in for a carriage at an early hour to Lynderton, and soon after breakfast he, with Harry and their three visitors, set forth for that town. They stopped before the bow-windowed house where Captain Everard was residing with his aunt and daughter. Madam Everard was on the steps preparing to go out, and just behind her stood Mabel. As Harry descended from the carriage, why did Mabel start back and retreat a little within the passage? Madam Everard kindly took Harry’s hand, and shook that of Mr Kyffin. She cast an inquiring glance at the captain, whom at first she did not recognise.

“May we come in?” asked Harry, looking up eagerly towards Mabel. For an instant he hesitated, then sprang up the steps past the old lady. Madam Everard detained Mr Kyffin and the captain for some minutes by making inquiries and receiving answers.

“Come in, come in,” at length she answered. “Little did I expect to receive such joyful intelligence. Accept my gratitude, Captain Rochard, on my own account, and doubly thankful I am that by your means my dear nephew and his daughter will recover their rights.”

A minute afterwards Mary was seen tripping down the street to the news-room to summon the captain. He had gone there to read the account just received of Lord Duncan’s great victory at Camperdown.

“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Mary, as she saw the captain, “it is happy news, sir, happy news, better news than that about the battle. The French captain has come back and brought two old country people with him, and Madam Everard says we shall all get back to Stanmore.”

Mr Wallace was in the room at the time, and the captain, scarcely crediting the news, begged the lawyer to accompany him home.

“The evidence is complete,” observed Mr Wallace, after he had looked over the document brought by Captain Rochard, and by the help of that gentleman had examined the old French people. “We can go with perfect confidence of victory into a court of law, should Mr Sleech venture to oppose the claims of Captain Everard.”

“I trust that everything may be done in a peaceable way,” observed Madam Everard. “I cannot pretend to have any regard for that unhappy man, Mr Sleech, though his children are, it must be owned, my nephews and nieces. I trust, however, that he will yield without opposition.”

Mr Wallace promised to manage matters in as gentle a way as possible, and that no time might be lost, he set out forthwith for Stanmore. Paul Gauntlett, who very soon heard what was taking place, begged to accompany him.

“No, no,” said the lawyer. “You, my friend, are a man of war. We will call you in if it is necessary to proceed by ejectment, but at present I hope the enemy will capitulate without an assault.”

The answer satisfied Paul.

At that moment Dr Jessop looked in to pay a professional visit to Mabel.

“I think she scarcely requires your services, doctor,” observed Madam Everard; “but if you, as a friend of the family, will accompany Mr Wallace, perhaps you may be able to aid him in his delicate and somewhat painful mission.”

“Come, brother physic, come along then,” said Mr Wallace, as they stepped into the carriage which had brought the party from Sea View Cottage. “The sooner this matter is settled the better.”

Mr Sleech was seated in his study in a flowery dressing-gown, the hairdresser from Lynderton having just curled and powdered his peruke, when a footman in the Stanmore livery, which he had lately assumed, announced the lawyer and doctor.

“What can they want with me?” he exclaimed. “Really, a man of rank and position can scarcely call his time his own. Let them in, however.”

At that moment the Misses Sleech and one of their brothers came in from the grounds.

“Papa,” exclaimed the young Mr Sleech, “those fellows have not cut down another tree. They say they don’t mind putting the fences in order and digging out the ditches, but that not one of them will lay an axe to a root.”

“Impertinent fellows!” exclaimed Mr Sleech. “I will see how they dare disobey me.”

At that moment the visitors entered the room.

“Your servant, gentlemen,” said the master of Stanmore, performing one of his newly-learned bows. “To what cause am I indebted for the honour of this visit? Doctor, you are always welcome, whether you come as a visitor or professionally,” he added, holding out his hand, at the same time turning a dark frown towards his brother lawyer, who took his seat in silence.

“As you ask me, Mr Sleech,” said Dr Jessop, “I come now as a friend—as a friend of your family and that of the Everards. I wish that you could have heard the expressions uttered but lately by your excellent sister-in-law, Madam Everard. You must be aware that it was very painful to her to leave Stanmore. The law allowed you to take possession, it being supposed that no marriage had taken place between Captain Everard’s father and mother, notwithstanding the assertion of the former that he had married in France. Of course Captain Everard has taken every means to prove his legitimacy, and I must ask you now to be prepared to receive the information, that not only is he in possession of the certificate of the marriage, properly attested by the French authorities, but that actually two French persons of respectability who were present are at this moment in England, indeed at Lynderton.”

Mr Sleech gasped for breath as the doctor proceeded, turning his rolling eyeballs first at him and then at the lawyer.

“Is it true what he says? Is it true, Wallace? Tell me,” he exclaimed.

“Perfectly true, Mr Sleech,” answered the lawyer. “You have no more right to be in this house than I have; at the same time, the owners desire that you should be treated with every kindness and consideration.”

Mr Sleech rose from his seat, and appeared as if he were about to rush on his brother lawyer.

“It is false! It is a vile conspiracy! They are impostors!” he exclaimed. “I will not yield: I will die first!”

“My good sir,” exclaimed the doctor, placing himself between Mr Sleech, whose doubled fist was raised to strike Mr Wallace, “let me entreat you to becalm. This violence will do you no good, and is discreditable to you.”

The unfortunate man stopped and gasped, and had not the doctor held him up, he would have sunk to the ground. He was placed in a chair. Restoratives were administered, and at length he recovered.

“I yield,” at last he said; “I played for a high stake, and I have lost. They will have pity on me. That wretched boy of mine, his fate has well-nigh broken my heart.”

In a few days Mr Sleech and his family returned to the old red brick building with the high roof in the High Street of Lynderton, which he had inhabited since he entered business.

The bells rang merrily out when Captain Everard and his daughter, accompanied by Madam Everard and several friends, drove up the avenue once more to Stanmore. Harry Tryon, however, never became its master. The charms of Miss Coppinger had for some time before captured the heart of the gallant captain, and in a short time after this she became his bride, and, ultimately, the mother of a considerable number of fine sons and girls, of whom, notwithstanding, Mabel was not in the slightest degree jealous, as she by that time could boast of an equal number of her own. The fortune her godfather had given her, and a very handsome settlement made by Mr Kyffin, enabled her to accept Harry Tryon’s hand. At the same time, the Baron de Ruvigny consoled himself for his past disappointments by marrying Sybella Coppinger, and both he and Harry joined Mr Coppinger’s firm, and by the time a permanent peace was once more restored to Europe, had become among the first merchants of London. With regard to Captain Falwasser, or Rochard, as he also called himself, he was a true patriot, though a royalist, and had for some political cause been compelled to leave France before the outbreak of the revolution. He had been introduced to Mr Pitt, and had been employed by him in gaining information of proceedings in France. For this purpose he had engaged the famous smuggling lugger, from which he could land without observation on either coast. Disguised in a variety of ways, he had been able to traverse France. Had he been captured, he knew well that his life would have been sacrificed. For many years he persevered, and at length, escaping all dangers, settled down at Lynderton, where he was ever an honoured guest at Stanmore. Paul Gauntlett once more took up his former office at the park, which he held to a green old age; and Jacob Tuttle came home with the loss of an arm, and married his faithful Mary.