Gilbert Oglander was stepping into one of the boats when Hartop and Pennington got to the foot of the flight of stairs. He nodded in greeting to the two men, and made room for them beside him in the stern-sheets. Then, all being seated and the boat full, the man at the bow pushed off, the oars were dipped, and amid the cheers of the crowd on shore the little craft was steered out into the harbour.
In his boyish excitement at getting into the boat, Gilbert had not observed that his uncle Jasper was standing at the end of the quay quietly watching him. Gilbert had already bidden farewell to his uncle, as indeed to all the household at Modbury Manor, some three hours before, and he could not have expected that Jasper, even allowing for the great affection he had heretofore shown for him, would have the desire to wish yet a second farewell.
But in actual truth it was a far other errand than this that had brought Jasper Oglander into the town so quickly upon his nephew's heels. It was an errand which, had it been duly fulfilled, would have certainly prevented Gilbert's departure from England. It was in fact with the purpose of summoning the lad back to his home that Jasper had thus hastened to the harbour.
And yet, strangely enough, he made not the smallest attempt to stop the boat as it put out from the landing-stairs; nay, he even seemed anxious that his nephew should not catch sight of him, for as the rowers pulled past where he had stationed himself, he drew cautiously back into the crowd. Apparently, therefore, it was in some way to Jasper's personal advantage that Gilbert should be permitted to leave the country at this particular time. So it accordingly befell that the lad was taken out to his ship, and that he proceeded on his voyage in total ignorance of a most important circumstance which directly concerned him.
When about noon that day Gilbert had mounted his horse to start for Plymouth, all had been well with the family at Modbury Manor. He had waved his hand in farewell to his grandfather, who had stood at the open casement above the porch, and had embraced his mother and Drusilla, and shaken hands with all the servants. Drusilla and his uncle Jasper had accompanied him down the long avenue to the lodge gate, and thence he had ridden off alone.
He had expected that his cousin Philip would be at the manor to bid him farewell. Philip had been absent for two days, and, strangely enough, he had given no reason for going away. None knew where he had gone excepting his father, and Jasper, on being questioned, had merely stated that the lad had had a mind to take an excursion into the country. Nothing was guessed of the part that he had taken in the affray on Polperro beach. Indeed, it seemed that Timothy Trollope alone knew this, and as Timothy was no longer in service at Modbury Manor, no word of Philip Oglander's connection with the escape of the Spanish prisoners of war had yet been spoken.
Gilbert had been gone scarcely an hour when a messenger on horseback arrived bearing a letter for my Lord Champernoun. The letter was delivered into the aged baron's own hand in his private library. No one was present when he opened and read it, but some minutes afterwards the Lady Betty Oglander was passing the library door when she heard a heavy fall. She opened the door and looked within and saw Lord Champernoun lying unconscious on the floor. She called aloud for help. Her cry was answered by Jasper. They went in together and lifted the old nobleman into his chair. His face was bloodless, and they could not hear him breathing.
"Holy Mother, he is dead!" exclaimed Jasper Oglander. "What in Heaven's name can have caused it so suddenly?" He looked blankly about the room as if in search of an explanation. Seeing the letter on the floor he picked it up, and unnoticed by Lady Betty thrust it into the breast of his doublet.
"'Tis his heart!" cried Lady Betty. "He must surely have had some sudden shock. It may even be that Gilbert's departure hath unduly excited him." Then, remembering Gilbert, she turned to Jasper. "Good my brother," said she, "go, I beseech you, and bring back my son, for he must not be allowed to leave England. Take horse at once and bring him back, and—" she glanced once again at the lifeless baron, felt for the beating of his heart, and put her cheek to his lips to discover if there might not still be some breath in him—"bring also a physician. There may yet be hope."