“If Gilbert is innocent, I am guilty of fratricide, and shall have contributed to bring disgrace on our family!” he exclaimed.
Together they set out for London. A reprieve, which had hitherto been refused, was granted.
It was on the very morning that the execution of the prisoners was to take place. An accident might delay them. It was daylight before they reached the gaol. They found the Governor in a state of agitation, for one of the prisoners had escaped. He was greatly relieved on finding that it was the man for whom they had brought a reprieve.
“One difficulty is got over,” he observed; “but I should have had to keep him here, for he and another were accused, by that fellow who turned king’s evidence, and who hopes to get the promised reward, of being implicated in Bursey’s murder.”
The two brothers looked at each other. Hugh could scarcely restrain his feelings; a sense of bitter shame predominated, however, for the disgrace he had hoped to escape might still fall on his family. Arthur earnestly prayed that the information might be false, and that his unhappy brother was innocent. The prisoner was supposed to have made his way to Southampton, and to have escaped on board a foreign-bound ship.
Several months passed away; it was the autumn. Arthur had gone to spend some days with Mary and her husband. He had ridden over to call on some friends at Christchurch. A heavy equinoctial gale was blowing from the south-west. As he was returning along the coast, wishing to obtain a view of the stormy sea, now covered with foaming waves, he observed a large lugger, under a press of sail, standing towards the shore. A number of people were collected on the beach, and he guessed, from the light waggons and horses of which he had caught sight, that preparations were being made for running a cargo of smuggled goods, then often done in open day, the Revenue officers being either enticed away or bribed not to interfere.
The danger a vessel must encounter venturing in at that time appeared fearfully great. He could not bring himself to leave the spot. The reason of the lugger’s attempting the hazardous experiment, however, was evident. In the offing appeared a sloop-of-war, and one, he knew, had been sent to cruise after smugglers. From remarks he overheard, he discovered that the lugger was the Saucy Sally, commanded by Slippery Rogers. Every moment the gale was increasing, and the surf came rolling with greater and greater force upon the beach. Those on shore threw up a signal to show that landing was impossible, but the fearless crew of the lugger pushed madly on. One instant she appeared with her broad spread of canvas swelling to the gale; the next, surrounded by the fierce waves dashing up madly around her, she lay shattered to fragments on the shingly beach, her crew struggling vainly in the surf. Some few amid the wreck, and casks and bales, which formed her cargo, were washed on shore, but the greater number were carried out far beyond human reach by the receding waves. Of those who were saved, several were fearfully injured, some breathed their last as they were dragged out of the water. Arthur offered that assistance which the rough men were little able to afford. He had sent off for a surgeon, and having attended to two of the sufferers, hastened to the side of a third, who seemed to have received some severe injuries. As he knelt down he recognised the countenance of his unhappy brother Gilbert, who, opening his eyes, fixed them on his face.
“We obtained a reprieve,” said Arthur. “Why did you escape? you knew I had gone to obtain it.”
“I did not trust to the king’s mercy; and as I had the opportunity, I determined to avail myself of it,” answered Gilbert in a feeble voice.