So saying he spurred onwards himself. The voice, breathing out the harsh accents of the trader,—the refugee, the man to capture whom she had launched so boldly among the billows of stratagem, and almost of war,—froze the blood of the maiden, and the sight of his grim features, revealed in the glare of distant lamps, completed the overthrow of a courage which had supported her in a struggle with one so little to be feared as Hyland. Her brain whirled, her senses became bewildered, as she felt the steed bounding beneath her, and knew that every leap, while it separated her still further from her friends, placed her yet more completely in the power of the refugee. But it formed no part of his schemes to add her to the number of his captives. He checked his steed at the park-gate, dropped her gently on the grass, and uttering a yell, to draw the attention of another horseman, approaching from the house, galloped through the gate and was soon buried in the darkness. The second horseman, who was no other than the captain of cavalry, rode up to the spot, dismounted, and uttering many ejaculations of surprise, took the lady in his arms, and with her returned to the mansion. He found its inmates still in extreme agitation, the women weeping and screaming, the men swearing, and bustling, and vociferating for arms and horses, with which they designed to do they knew not what, and Captain Loring roaring like a bedlamite.
"Mount horses, gentlemen," he cried, "and by the eternal Jupiter, we'll recover the prisoners. A rum one, that Mr. Gentleman-volunteer! Come, mount, mount, and keep the chase warm, till a better force can follow us. There's a regiment of foot billeted in the village below—let some one gallop down for a reinforcement; the rest follow me. If we can't fight the vagabonds, why, by the eternal Jupiter, we can dog them."
The proposal of captain Caliver was responded to by such as could think without alarm of following the fierce marauders, by midnight, into their native forests; and in a surprisingly short space of time, they set out, six in number, to pursue on the course of the fugitives, and keep them within striking distance, until assistance should arrive. A messenger was immediately despatched to the village, and some two or three of those gaping supernumeraries, whose intrusion into the house has been already mentioned, volunteered to carry the alarm among the neighbouring settlements, and thus rouse the whole country to pursuit and vengeance.
The little party of six, headed by young Falconer and Caliver, issuing from the park, began the chase by galloping up the road, already made familiar to the leaders by the memorable adventure of the 4th. Assistance was nearer at hand than they thought; and almost before the trampling of their horses had died on the ear, a large party of mounted men, with Colonel Falconer at their head, halted at the gate. In obeying the counsel of the young refugee to leave Hawk-Hollow without delay, this individual had not been governed alone by fears for his personal safety. The appearance of Hyland Gilbert so near to the scene of festivity, convinced him, as strongly as did his urgent exhortations to fly, that the ferocious band of Hawks, though supposed long since to have effected its escape, was yet lying concealed in the neighbourhood, meditating some deed of violence, though what that was, unless to burn Gilbert's Folly to the earth, as the only way of wreaking vengeance upon him, he could not pretend to divine. It was enough, however, that such an enemy was at hand; and, accordingly, when he rode to the village, it was with the purpose of summoning such a force to the valley as should protect its inhabitants, if it did not effect the still better object of ridding it from such visitants for ever. He sought the commander of the regiment already spoken of; and his representations, added to the weight of his character, were enough to cause that officer to take instant measures for the protection of Hawk-Hollow. A party of sixty picked men, mounted for the occasion, was put under his disposal; while several other companies were ordered to follow on foot. While on the road, he was met by the messenger sent by the captain of cavalry, with the stunning intelligence of the outrage, as it has been already related. Inflamed by the news, the party put spurs to their horses, and were soon in the Hollow. They paused at the park-gate, just long enough to communicate with the house, and ascertain that the pursuit was already begun by the bridegroom; and then resuming their route, they were in a few moments beyond the swelling ridge that shut in the Hollow to the north.
CHAPTER VIII.
| Thought he, 'This is the lucky hour; Wine works, when vines are in the flower. This crisis, then, I'll set my rest on, And put her boldly to the question.' BUTLER. You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid: You loved, I loved. MERCHANT OF VENICE. |
The outlaws were, in the meanwhile, proceeding on their course with a celerity that left them little to dread from pursuit; and, indeed, all their measures indicated that their plan had been laid with as much forethought as audacity. The captive maidens, after being borne for the space of a mile or more, in the arms of their captors, were placed upon horses previously in waiting; and then, supported by an athletic attendant on each hand, were hurried forward with even greater rapidity than before. Before this arrangement was effected, and while they were yet in the neighbourhood of Hawk-Hollow, a change came over the spirit of one of the prizes, not more advantageous to herself than it was agreeable to the wild band who were somewhat weary of her lamentations. This was Phoebe, whose terrors, instead of abating, grew more clamorous, with every bound of the steed that bore her; and which, having begun with sobs and piteous ejaculations, increased to something like positive outcries; until, at last, the man who carried her, losing all patience, and unlocking lips that seemed previously made of stone, muttered, or rather whispered in her ear, but in no very amiable accents,
"Consarn the woman! what are you squalling a'ter? Hold your foolish tongue, Phoebe Jones, or"—
But the sound of a threatening voice was by no means fitted to allay the damsel's fear, or paralyze the member it had set so vigorously in motion. She interrupted the menace with a still louder shriek, adding, "Oh lord, good gentleman, pray don't murder me!"