"I imagined that such was the case," answered Beauchamp; "and all these things tell so much in your favour, that I cannot understand how you could suffer yourself to be led into such a crime, as that which you have committed."
"I tell you, sir, I had nothing to do with it," cried the young man. "If I had been present, they should not have hurt a hair of his head--They knew that well enough, and therefore they left me below to keep watch. As to the robbery, that I did consent to; and that was bad enough too--but then, that Harding had the tongue of the devil himself, to persuade one. He got round me when I was ill--He taught me to believe that all riches ought to be in common, and that no man should be wealthy, while another man was poor; and then he told me, that to take the money which the old miser made no use of, and left rotting in his chests, could be no harm--and then he harped upon my mother's poverty and misery, and made things ten times worse than they were; so at length I consented, on condition that he would promise not to hurt the old man. Well, even then, when he came down all bloody, and I saw too well that they had killed him, I do think that I should have either shot him for deceiving me, or should have gone and given him up, as he deserved; but I saw that he felt what he had done himself, and there was something so awful about him just at that moment, that I do not well know why or how, but he got the mastery of me, and I did what he liked, till it came to killing you, which the woman wanted us to do, as you lay stunned at the door. Then my spirit got up again, and I was master of them all till we came over here. But now he has forgotten all that he seemed to feel then--that Harding I mean--and he talks about it quietly, and sneers and laughs, and looks coolly at me, while he is speaking of things that would make one's blood run cold--and he persuades himself that it is all right."
The strong excitement under which the young sailor laboured, afforded Beauchamp every means of drawing from him the whole details of the murder, and the events that followed; and he found that the crime at least, as far as robbery went, had been concerted long before it was perpetrated. The moment for executing their plan, had always been postponed by Harding himself, who had assured his accomplices, that a large sum of money, which he knew was to be paid into the miser's hands, had not yet been received; and Beauchamp easily divined that the murderer had alluded to the sum he himself had drawn for, through the instrumentality of the unhappy money-lender. So completely organized had been the whole design, that a French cutter, engaged by young Harrison, had actually lain upon the coast for several days, in order to carry the three culprits to Havre, whence they were instantly to embark for America. The master of the vessel, however, tired of waiting, had at length left the coast on the very night that the murder was committed; and the only means of escape that the four accomplices found, when they reached the beach, was the boat which the young sailor had provided with money furnished by Harding, for the purpose of conveying them from the shore to the ship, without the necessity of making signals, which might have betrayed them. The woman had, indeed, nearly brought the coast guard upon them, by accidentally falling into the sea as they embarked, and screaming for help; but nevertheless, they got her into the boat, and pushed off before any one came up. On their arrival in France, the young man added, they had taken, under Harding's direction, those measures of precaution which had baffled Beauchamp and the officers in their pursuit, and had at length arrived in Paris, where he, who might be considered as their leader, had boasted that he could lie concealed if all the police of France and England were set upon his track. Here he proposed to sell a variety of different articles of jewellery and plate, which he and his companion had contrived to bring with them, and then to take ship for the land of Columbus, as they originally had proposed. Harding, the young sailor said, had soon lost all appearance of that remorse which he had felt at first; but he described him at the same time as living in a state of reckless debauchery and excitement, from which Beauchamp argued that the never-dying worm was still tremendously alive within his bosom. He drank deep, Walter Harrison added, without getting drunk. The woman whom he had brought with him, and had before seduced, he treated with contempt and cruelty. He gamed also continually, in the lower and more brutal resorts of Parisian blacklegs and madmen; and, gratifying every passion to excess, it was evident that he was striving to drown the voice of remorse in a tide of gross and eager licentiousness.
"It is a fearful picture," said Beauchamp. "But now tell me, how and when we can bring this atrocious villain to punishment. You, my poor young man, he has misled and betrayed; and I do not even know that his crime towards you is not of a deeper die than that which he committed on the person of the wretched old man at Ryebury. He could but kill the body of the one"----
"Ay, and of the other," interrupted the young sailor, "he has condemned the immortal soul!"
"I hope not! I hope not!" said Beauchamp. "Life is still before you, if you choose to live; and I know of no circumstances in which life is so inestimably valuable to man, as when he has been greatly criminal; for every year that he remains here may, if he will, be filled with the golden moments of repentance. But once more, how can we apprehend this villain?"
"Ay, he is a villain!" answered the young sailor; "if ever there lived one, he is the man;" and he was proceeding again to stray from the subject, when Beauchamp recalled him to it, and mentioned the necessity there would be of applying to the French police; but at the very idea the other started wild away.
"No, no, no!" he cried, "that will not do. He's a brave man, though he be a ruffian; and he shall never say that I took odds against him, because I was afraid of him one to one."
"Then, how do you propose to act?" demanded Beauchamp, in some astonishment. "This man must be taken, and brought to punishment, if you would keep your word with me, and clear the character of William Delaware."
The young man mused sullenly for several minutes, merely muttering, "He shall--he shall be taken. Hark you, Mr. Burrel," he said at length, looking up boldly and steadfastly, "you are a brave man. I have seen you do brave things. Now, there is this Harding and another; and here are you and I--that is two to two, and fair play. If you choose to go with me to-morrow night, I will take you to where those two are alone; and if we do not take them, and tie them hand and foot, it is our fault; but d--me if I take odds against them!"