His men looked at each other, then at him, but his stern looks awed them. One or two merely muttered a regret that "such prime stuff" should be wasted.
Cussen then, as if anxious to avoid all chance of recognition, returned to the back of the house. He wore a close-fitting skull-cap, with a slip of crape in front, and could see whatever occurred. His followers were more or less disguised, and all, except Cussen, had white shirts over their garments—hence the name Whiteboy.
Perceiving the power of his leadership, Alicia Shelton determined not to waste words or time in entreaties on the men, but to appeal at once to Cussen. She managed to leave the house without being noticed—found Cussen outside, leaning on his fowling-piece, in a thoughtful and abstracted mood. To throw herself on her knees before him—to implore him for the love of Heaven to save her brother's life—was the impulsive action of a moment. He turned away, not even looking upon her, and then—the present peril giving her new energy and courage—she seized him by the coat-skirt and earnestly said, "You want to take my brother to Castletown. There they will see him torn to pieces before they will surrender their arms. You must know that it will be an idle attempt. Then, in their disappointment, your men will kill him. Save him—save my brother, if you have a human heart. I know that you will do it, and I will bless you if you do."
She sank on the ground before him. He felt that she was speaking the truth. Besides, he was moved by her entreaty. Raising her from the ground, he said, in a kind and soothing manner, "Lady! I am afraid that we must have your brother's company, but no harm shall reach him with my consent."
Her convulsive grasp still held him. Striving to extricate himself, he got into the moonlight, and then, for the first time, he had a view of her features. She was very handsome; and now, with her dark hairdishevelled, her eager glance, her graceful attitude, her earnest tone, her light attire, she looked a Pythoness.
Cussen gazed long and anxiously on the still kneeling suppliant. Some old memory may have passed through his mind in that brief space—a wave in life's vast ocean. Perhaps some resemblance of form, feature, or voice brought back a glimpse of bygone days of happiness and love. There still was something tender in that troubled heart. He passed his hands across his eyes, as if he would clear them from a mist, and then with a gentle courtesy, as if they were in a ball-room, raised Miss Shelton from the ground.
"Lady," said he, "whatever I can do to aid you, I will do. They have not yet found your brother. If he be concealed, keep him so, and I will make some pretext to draw off my men. They must have whatever arms are in the house; but they shall be content with that."
Miss Shelton would have expressed her warm gratitude, but Cussen did not wait to be thanked. He turned away then. While she yet lingered, with clasped hands to heaven, he suddenly returned, politely raised his cap from his head for a moment, took one of her hands in his, pressed his lips to it, with the gallant air of a cavalier, and then withdrew. Almost before Alicia Shelton had regained her own apartments, Cussen had given his men the word to retire. He led them into the belief that the military and police were approaching, and this made them hastily retreat and disperse, taking with them all the arms in the house except a small pair of pistols which Captain Shelton had picked up and brought away with him from Waterloo. They are now in my own possession.
Before Miss Shelton had risen from her earnest thanksgiving for her brother's safety, Captain Rock and his force had departed. She then ventured into her father's room, from whence his bodily ailments did not allow him to move, and was happy to learn that he had not heard the tumult which had prevailed in the more distant part of the house. Thus terminated a night of terror.