Peveril of the Peak
CHAPTER XIX
Now, hoist the anchor, mates--and let the sails Give their broad bosom to the buxom wind, Like lass that woos a lover. --ANONYMOUS.
The presence of the Countess dispelled the superstitious feeling, which,for an instant, had encroached on Julian's imagination, and compelledhim to give attention to the matters of ordinary life. "Here are yourcredentials," she said, giving him a small packet, carefully packedup in a sealskin cover; "you had better not open them till you cometo London. You must not be surprised to find that there are one or twoaddressed to men of my own persuasion. These, for all our sakes, youwill observe caution in delivering."
"I go your messenger, madam," said Peveril; "and whatever you desireme to charge myself with, of that I undertake the care. Yet allow me todoubt whether an intercourse with Catholics will at this moment forwardthe purposes of my mission."
"You have caught the general suspicion of this wicked sect already,"said the Countess, smiling, "and are the fitter to go amongst Englishmenin their present mood. But, my cautious friend, these letters are soaddressed, and the persons to whom they are addressed so disguised,that you will run no danger in conversing with them. Without their aid,indeed, you will not be able to obtain the accurate information you goin search of. None can tell so exactly how the wind sets, as the pilotwhose vessel is exposed to the storm. Besides, though you Protestantsdeny our priesthood the harmlessness of the dove, you are ready enoughto allow us a full share of the wisdom of the serpent; in plain terms,their means of information are extensive, and they are not deficient inthe power of applying it. I therefore wish you to have the benefit oftheir intelligence and advice, if possible."
"Whatever you impose upon me as a part of my duty, madam, rely on itsbeing discharged punctually," answered Peveril. "And, now, as there islittle use in deferring the execution of a purpose when once fixed, letme know your ladyship's wishes concerning my departure."
"It must be sudden and secret," said the Countess; "the island is fullof spies; and I would not wish that any of them should have notice thatan envoy of mine was about to leave Man for London. Can you be ready togo on board to-morrow?"
"To-night--this instant if you will," said Julian,--"my littlepreparations are complete."
"Be ready, then, in your chamber, at two hours after midnight. I willsend one to summon you, for our secret must be communicated, for thepresent, to as few as possible. A foreign sloop is engaged to carry youover; then make the best of your way to London, by Martindale Castle, orotherwise, as you find most advisable. When it is necessary toannounce your absence, I will say you are gone to see your parents. Butstay--your journey will be on horseback, of course, from Whitehaven.You have bills of exchange, it is true; but are you provided with readymoney to furnish yourself with a good horse?"
"I am sufficiently rich, madam," answered Julian; "and good nags areplenty in Cumberland. There are those among them who know how to come bythem good and cheap."
"Trust not to that," said the Countess. "Here is what will purchase foryou the best horse on the Borders.--Can you be simple enough to refuseit?" she added, as she pressed on him a heavy purse, which he sawhimself obliged to accept.
"A good horse, Julian," continued the Countess, "and a good sword, nextto a good heart and head, are the accomplishments of a cavalier."
"I kiss your hands, then, madam," said Peveril, "and humbly beg you tobelieve, that whatever may fail in my present undertaking, my purposeto serve you, my noble kinswoman and benefactress, can at least neverswerve or falter."
"I know it, my son, I know it; and may God forgive me if my anxietyfor your friend has sent you on dangers which should have been his!Go--go--May saints and angels bless you! Fenella shall acquaint him thatyou sup in your own apartment. So indeed will I; for to-night I shouldbe unable to face my son's looks. Little will he thank me for sendingyou on his errand; and there will be many to ask, whether it was likethe Lady of Latham to trust her friend's son on the danger which shouldhave been braved by her own. But oh! Julian, I am now a forlorn widow,whom sorrow has made selfish!"
"Tush, madam," answered Peveril; "it is more unlike the Lady of Lathamto anticipate dangers which may not exist at all, and to which, ifthey do indeed occur, I am less obnoxious than my noble kinsman.Farewell!--All blessings attend you, madam. Commend me to Derby,and make him my excuses. I shall expect a summons at two hours aftermidnight."
They took an affectionate leave of each other; the more affectionate,indeed, on the part of the Countess, that she could not entirelyreconcile her generous mind to exposing Peveril to danger on her son'sbehalf; and Julian betook himself to his solitary apartment.
His servant soon afterwards brought him wine and refreshments; towhich, notwithstanding the various matters he had to occupy his mind, hecontrived to do reasonable justice. But when this needful occupationwas finished, his thoughts began to stream in upon him like a troubledtide--at once recalling the past, and anticipating the future. It was invain that he wrapped himself in his riding cloak, and, lying down onhis bed, endeavoured to compose himself to sleep. The uncertainty ofthe prospect before him--the doubt how Bridgenorth might dispose of hisdaughter during his absence--the fear that the Major himself might fallinto the power of the vindictive Countess, besides a numerous train ofvague and half-formed apprehensions, agitated his blood, and renderedslumber impossible. Alternately to recline in the old oaken easy-chair,and listen to the dashing of the waves under the windows, mingled,as the sound was, with the scream of the sea-birds; or traverse theapartment with long and slow steps, pausing occasionally to look outon the sea, slumbering under the influence of a full moon, which tippedeach wave with silver--such were the only pastimes he could invent,until midnight had passed for one hour; the next was wasted in anxiousexpectation of the summons of departure.
At length it arrived--a tap at his door was followed by a low murmur,which made him suspect that the Countess had again employed her muteattendant as the most secure minister of her pleasure on this occasion.He felt something like impropriety in this selection; and it was witha feeling of impatience alien to the natural generosity of his temper,that, when he opened the door, he beheld the dumb maiden standing beforehim. The lamp which he held in his hand showed his features distinctly,and probably made Fenella aware of the expression which animated them.She cast her large dark eyes mournfully on the ground; and, withoutagain looking him in the face, made him a signal to follow her. Hedelayed no longer than was necessary to secure his pistols in his belt,wrap his cloak closer around him, and take his small portmanteau underhis arm. Thus accoutred, he followed her out of the Keep, or inhabitedpart of the Castle, by a series of obscure passages leading to a posterngate, which she unlocked with a key, selected from a bundle which shecarried at her girdle.
They now stood in the castle-yard, in the open moonlight, whichglimmered white and ghastly on the variety of strange and ruinousobjects to which we have formerly alluded, and which gave the scenerather the appearance of some ancient cemetery, than of the interior ofa fortification. The round and elevated tower--the ancient mount, withits quadrangular sides facing the ruinous edifices which once boastedthe name of Cathedral--seemed of yet more antique and anomalous form,when seen by the pale light which now displayed them. To one of thesechurches Fenella took the direct course, and was followed by Julian;although he at once divined, and was superstitious enough to dislike,the path which she was about to adopt. It was by a secret passagethrough this church that in former times the guard-room of the garrison,situated at the lower and external defences, communicated with the Keepof the Castle; and through this passage were the keys of the Castleevery night carried to the Governor's apartment, so soon as the gateswere locked, and the watch set. The custom was given up in James theFirst's time, and the passage abandoned, on account of the well-knownlegend of the _Mauthe Dog_--a fiend, or demon, in the shape of a large,shaggy, black mastiff, by which the church was said
to be haunted.It was devoutly believed, that in former times this spectre became sofamiliar with mankind, as to appear nightly in the guard-room, issuingfrom the passage which we have mentioned at night, and retiring to it atdaybreak. The soldiers became partly familiarised to its presence; yetnot so much so as to use any licence of language while the apparitionwas visible; until one fellow, rendered daring by intoxication, sworehe would know whether it was dog or devil, and, with his drawn sword,followed the spectre when it retreated by the usual passage. The manreturned in a few minutes, sobered by terror, his mouth gaping, and hishair standing on end, under which horror he died; but, unhappily forthe lovers of the marvellous, altogether unable to disclose the horrorswhich he had seen. Under the evil repute arising from this tale ofwonder, the guard-room was abandoned, and a new one constructed. In likemanner, the guards after that period held another and more circuitouscommunication with the Governor or Seneschal of the Castle; and thatwhich lay through the ruinous church was entirely abandoned.
In defiance of the legendary terrors which tradition had attached tothe original communication, Fenella, followed by Peveril, now boldlytraversed the ruinous vaults through which it lay--sometimes only guidedover heaps of ruins by the precarious light of the lamp borne by thedumb maiden--sometimes having the advantage of a gleam of moonlight,darting into the dreary abyss through the shafted windows, or throughbreaches made by time. As the path was by no means a straight one,Peveril could not but admire the intimate acquaintance with the mazeswhich his singular companion displayed, as well as the boldness withwhich she traversed them. He himself was not so utterly void ofthe prejudices of the times, but that he contemplated, with someapprehension, the possibility of their intruding on the lair of thephantom hound, of which he had heard so often; and in every remote sightof the breeze among the ruins, he thought he heard him baying at themortal footsteps which disturbed his gloomy realm. No such terrors,however, interrupted their journey; and in the course of a few minutes,they attained the deserted and now ruinous guard-house. The broken wallsof the little edifice served to conceal them from the sentinels, one ofwhom was keeping a drowsy watch at the lower gate of the Castle; whilstanother, seated on the stone steps which communicated with the parapetof the bounding and exterior wall, was slumbering, in full security,with his musket peacefully grounded by his side. Fenella made a sign toPeveril to move with silence and caution, and then showed him, to hissurprise, from the window of the deserted guard-room, a boat, for it wasnow high water, with four rowers, lurking under the cliff on which thecastle was built; and made him farther sensible that he was to haveaccess to it by a ladder of considerable height placed at the window ofthe ruin.
Julian was both displeased and alarmed by the security and carelessnessof the sentinels, who had suffered such preparations to be made withoutobservation or alarm given; and he hesitated whether he should not callthe officer of the guard, upbraid him with negligence, and show himhow easily Holm-Peel, in spite of its natural strength, and althoughreported impregnable, might be surprised by a few resolute men. Fenellaseemed to guess his thoughts with that extreme acuteness of observationwhich her deprivations had occasioned her acquiring. She laid one handon his arm, and a finger of the other on her own lips, as if to enjoinforbearance; and Julian, knowing that she acted by the direct authorityof the Countess, obeyed her accordingly; but with the internalresolution to lose no time in communicating his sentiments to the Earl,concerning the danger to which the Castle was exposed on this point.
In the meantime, he descended the ladder with some precaution, for thesteps were unequal, broken, wet, and slippery; and having placed himselfin the stern of the boat, made a signal to the men to push off, andturned to take farewell of his guide. To his utter astonishment, Fenellarather slid down, than descended regularly, the perilous ladder, and,the boat being already pushed off, made a spring from the last step ofit with incredible agility, and seated herself beside Peveril, ere hecould express either remonstrance or surprise. He commanded the men oncemore to pull in to the precarious landing-place; and throwing into hiscountenance a part of the displeasure which he really felt, endeavouredto make her comprehend the necessity of returning to her mistress.Fenella folded her arms, and looked at him with a haughty smile, whichcompletely expressed the determination of her purpose. Peveril wasextremely embarrassed; he was afraid of offending the Countess, andinterfering with her plan, by giving alarm, which otherwise he was muchtempted to have done. On Fenella, it was evident, no species of argumentwhich he could employ was likely to make the least impression; and thequestion remained, how, if she went on with him, he was to rid himselfof so singular and inconvenient a companion, and provide, at the sametime, sufficiently for her personal security.
The boatmen brought the matter to a decision; for, after lying on theiroars for a minute, and whispering among themselves in Low Dutch orGerman, they began to pull stoutly, and were soon at some distance fromthe Castle. The possibility of the sentinels sending a musket-ball, oreven a cannon-shot, after them, was one of the contingencies which gavePeveril momentary anxiety; but they left the fortress, as they must haveapproached it, unnoticed, or at least unchallenged--a carelessness onthe part of the garrison, which, notwithstanding that the oars weremuffled, and that the men spoke little, and in whispers, argued, inPeveril's opinion, great negligence on the part of the sentinels. Whenthey were a little way from the Castle, the men began to row brisklytowards a small vessel which lay at some distance. Peveril had, inthe meantime, leisure to remark, that the boatmen spoke to each otherdoubtfully, and bent anxious looks on Fenella, as if uncertain whetherthey had acted properly in bringing her off.
After about a quarter of an hour's rowing, they reached the littlesloop, where Peveril was received by the skipper, or captain, on thequarter-deck, with an offer of spirits or refreshments. A word or twoamong the seamen withdrew the captain from his hospitable cares, and heflew to the ship's side, apparently to prevent Fenella from enteringthe vessel. The men and he talked eagerly in Dutch, looking anxiously atFenella as they spoke together; and Peveril hoped the result wouldbe, that the poor woman should be sent ashore again. But shebaffled whatever opposition could be offered to her; and when theaccommodation-ladder, as it is called, was withdrawn, she snatched theend of a rope, and climbed on board with the dexterity of a sailor,leaving them no means of preventing her entrance, save by actualviolence, to which apparently they did not choose to have recourse. Onceon deck, she took the captain by the sleeve, and led him to the headof the vessel, where they seemed to hold intercourse in a mannerintelligible to both.
Peveril soon forgot the presence of the mute, as he began to muse uponhis own situation, and the probability that he was separated for someconsiderable time from the object of his affections. "Constancy," herepeated to himself,--"Constancy." And, as if in coincidence with thetheme of his reflections, he fixed his eyes on the polar star, whichthat night twinkled with more than ordinary brilliancy. Emblem of purepassion and steady purpose--the thoughts which arose as he viewed itsclear and unchanging light, were disinterested and noble. To seekhis country's welfare, and secure the blessings of domestic peace--todischarge a bold and perilous duty to his friend and patron--to regardhis passion for Alice Bridgenorth, as the loadstar which was to guidehim to noble deeds--were the resolutions which thronged upon his mind,and which exalted his spirits to that state of romantic melancholy,which perhaps is ill exchanged even for feelings of joyful rapture.
He was recalled from those contemplations by something which nestleditself softly and closely to his side--a woman's sigh sounded so nearhim, as to disturb his reverie; and as he turned his head, he sawFenella seated beside him, with her eyes fixed on the same star whichhad just occupied his own. His first emotion was that of displeasure;but it was impossible to persevere in it towards a being so helplessin many respects, so interesting in others; whose large dark eyes werefilled with dew, which glistened in the moonlight; and the source ofwhose emotions seemed to be in a partiality which might w
ell claimindulgence, at least from him who was the object of it. At the sametime, Julian resolved to seize the present opportunity, for suchexpostulations with Fenella on the strangeness of her conduct, as thepoor maiden might be able to comprehend. He took her hand with greatkindness, but at the same time with much gravity, pointed to the boat,and to the Castle, whose towers and extended walls were now scarcevisible in the distance; and thus intimated to her the necessity ofher return to Holm-Peel. She looked down, and shook her head, as ifnegativing his proposal with obstinate decision. Julian renewed hisexpostulation by look and gesture--pointed to his own heart, to intimatethe Countess--and bent his brows, to show the displeasure which she mustentertain. To all which the maiden only answered by her tears.
At length, as if driven to explanation by his continued remonstrances,she suddenly seized him by the arm, to arrest his attention--casther eye hastily around, as if to see whether she was watched byany one--then drew the other hand, edge-wise, across her slenderthroat--pointed to the boat, and to the Castle, and nodded.
On this series of signs, Peveril could put no interpretation, exceptingthat he was menaced with some personal danger, from which Fenellaseemed to conceive that her presence was a protection. Whatever was hermeaning, her purpose seemed unalterably adopted; at least it was plainhe had no power to shake it. He must therefore wait till the end oftheir short voyage, to disembarrass himself of his companion; and, inthe meanwhile, acting on the idea of her having harboured a misplacedattachment to him, he thought he should best consult her interest,and his own character, in keeping at as great a distance from her ascircumstances admitted. With this purpose, he made the sign she usedfor going to sleep, by leaning his head on his palm; and having thusrecommended to her to go to rest, he himself desired to be conducted tohis berth.
The captain readily showed him a hammock, in the after-cabin, into whichhe threw himself, to seek that repose which the exercise and agitationof the preceding day, as well as the lateness of the hour, made himnow feel desirable. Sleep, deep and heavy, sunk down on him in a fewminutes, but it did not endure long. In his sleep he was disturbed byfemale cries; and at length, as he thought, distinctly heard the voiceof Alice Bridgenorth call on his name.
He awoke, and starting up to quit his bed, became sensible, from themotion of the vessel, and the swinging of the hammock, that his dreamhad deceived him. He was still startled by its extreme vivacity andliveliness. "Julian Peveril, help! Julian Peveril!" The sounds stillrung in his ears--the accents were those of Alice--and he could scarcepersuade himself that his imagination had deceived him. Could she be inthe same vessel? The thought was not altogether inconsistent with herfather's character, and the intrigues in which he was engaged; butthen, if so, to what peril was she exposed, that she invoked his name soloudly?
Determined to make instant inquiry, he jumped out of his hammock,half-dressed as he was, and stumbling about the little cabin, which wasas dark as pitch, at length, with considerable difficulty, reachedthe door. The door, however, he was altogether unable to open; and wasobliged to call loudly to the watch upon deck. The skipper, or captain,as he was called, being the only person aboard who could speak English,answered to the summons, and replied to Peveril's demand, what noisethat was?--that a boat was going off with the young woman--that shewhimpered a little as she left the vessel--and "dat vaas all."
His dream was thus fully explained. Fancy had caught up the inarticulateand vehement cries with which Fenella was wont to express resistance ordispleasure--had coined them into language, and given them the accentsof Alice Bridgenorth. Our imagination plays wilder tricks with us almostevery night.
The captain now undid the door, and appeared with a lantern; without theaid of which Peveril could scarce have regained his couch, where henow slumbered secure and sound, until day was far advanced, and theinvitation of the captain called him up to breakfast.