Roger Kyffin's Ward

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Go I must, I see it too clearly, but I will write to Mr Kyffin, and tell him all.”

He packed a few articles of dress into a bag which he could easily carry, and taking a stout stick in his hand, left his room. He knocked at Sleech’s door as he went by.

“Close the door after me, I am going out,” he said.

“Ah! you are wise,” answered a voice from within.

Harry withdrew the bars and bolts. He waited outside till he heard them replaced. Few people were in the streets at that early hour. He walked on rapidly westward. He might be in time to catch the coach, which started at an early hour from Piccadilly. It would have carried him by night for a considerable part of the journey. He might hire a horse for the following day, or proceed on foot. He ran rather than walked along the streets; there were no hackney coaches out at that hour, and he had his legs alone to depend on. The heavy coach was beginning to move just as he reached its place of departure. There was one seat vacant. He had just time to climb into it, when the vehicle commenced its rumbling, rolling progress to the south-west. The inside, which carried six people, was full. One person sat by the coachman on the box, and four others were perched up behind him. Harry’s seat was facing the guard, who was known by the large red coat, ornamented by yellow lace, and the huge blunderbuss which was slung by his side. Harry was not inclined for conversation. The guard eyed him narrowly for some time.

“You are all right,” he said at last. “It is necessary to be awake, when people come as you did without booking their names. We were robbed three days ago by a gentleman on a fine horse, and even I took him for a nobleman, till he cried, ‘Stand and deliver,’ and somehow or other my blunderbuss would not go off, and the passengers inside only screamed and cried, and those outside only roared and swore. However, if I thought you were up to any tricks, I would just shoot you through the head with my blunderbuss, as if you were a savage beast in Exeter Change.”

Harry thanked the guard for his kind intentions, and begged that he would keep his ammunition for another object. As the coach moved along, during the day, Harry could not help looking out in the expectation of seeing a horseman in pursuit, sent by his uncle to bring him back. Again and again he cursed his folly and his weakness, for having yielded to the temptations thrown in his way by Silas Sleech. As the evening closed in, the heavily laden vehicle reached the end of its journey. It was the same inn at which he had stopped more than once with his grandmother, and the landlord recognised him. He had, therefore, no difficulty in obtaining a horse, by which he might proceed at a more rapid rate to Lynderton. He desired to be called before daylight, that he might start with the first streaks of dawn. What object was to be gained by his going to Lynderton? There was one person there, who he knew would, at all events, believe him innocent. He wished to tell Mabel of the trouble into which he had been plunged; to confess his folly, and to entreat her, whatever she might hear, not to think too ill of him. He would release her from her engagement, for what right had he, a penniless outcast, with his character blasted, still to hope to unite himself to one so lovely and pure, and the heiress of a good fortune. His heart might break in the struggle. He should never cease to love her, but free she must be. Before noon next day he was galloping along a green glade in the New Forest. He saw before him a horseman mounted on a stout cob proceeding at a leisurely pace. He was about to dart past the stranger, when turning round he caught a glimpse of features which he remembered well. They were those of Captain Falwasser, or rather of Captain Rochard. Supposing that he was not recognised he was going to pass on, when the captain hailed him.

“Harry Tryon, my lad, where are you going so fast? Is it your usual custom thus to cut old friends?”

Harry pulled up; an idea struck him.

“No, indeed,” he answered, “but I am afraid my old friends will cut me. Captain Falwasser, I am an unfortunate man. I am in great difficulties; I need not tell you what they are. I ask you, will you let me join your vessel as one of the crew, if you still command her? I care not where I go, but I want to leave England. I should be ready to start with you to-morrow, or the next day at the very furthest.”