faster than he galloped, while the clouds gathering thicklyoverhead increased the darkness.
Gilbert was not altogether comfortable in his mind. He had gone,contrary to his father's wish, to pay a visit to Dick Hockley, whoseacquaintance he had formed while at school at Christchurch, and whom MrMaitland considered an unfit companion for one of his boys. Mr Hockleyheld a small farm, and though it was badly cultivated, he had becomewealthy, and had built a good house, and rode a fine horse, and lived ina style much above his position. He was, indeed, more than suspected ofbeing connected with one of the many gangs of daring smugglers who atthat time carried on their illicit traffic on the coast of Hampshire andDorsetshire. Dick, a bold, rough fellow, two or three years older thanGilbert, boasted openly that he had already engaged in several smugglingenterprises.
Gilbert was fascinated by the accounts his acquaintance gave him of therisks he had run, the excitement of being chased, and the triumphantsatisfaction of landing a valuable cargo, and conveying it, escorted bya large body of armed men, under the very noses of the Revenue officers,into the interior. Gilbert's great ambition was to join in one of theseexpeditions; whenever he could get an opportunity, he rode over to seehis friend, and to listen to his long yams.
His father had at first cautioned him against any intimacy with a personof so doubtful a character as young Hockley, and then, finding that hiswarnings were of no avail, had positively prohibited Gilbert fromassociating with him.
He had grumbled greatly at this, when one day, Mr Maitland being awayfrom home, in the hearing of his sister Mary and his two elder brothersHugh and Arthur, he declared that he would go, notwithstanding what hisfather said.
"Dick is an honest fellow, and he has asked me to come, and I don't seewhy father has a right to stop me," he exclaimed.
"Father has forbid you to go, as he does not approve of young Hockley,and at all events it is your duty to obey him," said Mary. "Pray,Gilbert, do not go; it will vex father so much."
"I will tell you what, Gilbert," exclaimed Hugh, "if you are going toplay any tricks of the sort, I will lash your hands behind you, and shutyou up in your room till father comes back. I am the eldest, and it ismy business to keep order while he is away."
"You had better not try to lay hands on me, or it will be the worse foryou," exclaimed Gilbert, dashing out of the room.
"I don't think he will dare to go," said Hugh, resuming his studies,which had thus been interrupted.
Arthur, who was also sitting with his books before him, had not spoken.
They were both reading hard. Hugh had sometime before left school withgreat credit, having gained numerous prizes, and an exhibition whichwould enable him at his own earnest desire to go to college, where hehoped that with the talents he was supposed to possess he should makehis way to a good position in life. He had a fine constitution, wasstrongly built, and neither study nor bodily exercise ever seemed tofatigue him; so that with the resolution and clear intellect hepossessed, he had every prospect of succeeding.
Arthur, though studious, was delicate, and had been kept back somewhatby ill health. Neither of them had any taste for farming pursuits, andtheir father, who was proud of their talents, was anxious, as far as hewas able, to give them the means of following the course in life theyhad marked out for themselves. He and his ancestors, sturdy yeomen ofthe upper class, the pith and marrow of the English population, for manygenerations had held the farm he occupied; and as he wished it tocontinue in his family, he had determined that his younger son Gilbertshould become a farmer. Gilbert was what is often called afine-spirited lad, but unfortunately he had been allowed to have his ownway, and in consequence, frequently exhibited a determination not tosubmit to control. He had also never known a mother's tender andwatchful care, for Mr Maitland had been deprived of his wife soon afterGilbert's birth, and perhaps this circumstance may have prevented himfrom restraining the child's temper, or punishing him when guilty offaults, as strictly as his better judgment would have prompted him todo.
Mr Maitland, an upright man, proud of his old family, and satisfied withhis position, did not wish to rise out of it, though he was ready toallow his sons to run forward as far as they could in the race of life.He held the laws in respect, and, an exception to many around him, wasstrongly opposed to the smugglers and their illicit traffic. He wouldnever allow them to deposit any of their goods on his property, and theactive part he took in assisting the Revenue officers gained him muchill-will from the contraband traders.
Gilbert had scarcely left the room when Arthur got up, saying in hisgentle way--
"I will try and persuade him to obey father, and not to go off toChristchurch. If he wants a ride, I will accompany him to Lymington,where there is to be a review of the Foreign Legion; or if he has afancy for fishing, we will take our rods, and try and get some tench forfather's supper."
"Oh, do get him to do that!" said Mary. "Father likes them better thananything else, and I will try and cook them nicely for him."
Arthur, leaving his darling books, hastened out after Gilbert. Maryhoped he might find him, and prevent him committing the act ofdisobedience he threatened. She loved all her brothers, and the twoelder treated her with tenderness and respect. She was a kind-hearted,good-tempered, and intelligent girl, in every way worthy of their love,and possessed of a considerable amount of beauty. She came next to Hughin age, but she and Arthur were more generally companions, as theyagreed in most of their tastes. Hugh was already a young man, andthough he had no objection to a gallop through the forest, he devotedthe greater part of his time, even when at home, to study. He haddetermined to make his way in the world, and he knew that only by steadyapplication could he hope to do so.
Mary now sat at the window, busily plying her needle, and refrainingfrom speaking lest she might interrupt him, though she wanted to talk tohim about Gilbert, whose general conduct had of late given her greatanxiety. She could not help thinking that it would be better if he wereto be sent to a distance, and thus be separated from his presentcompanions. Neither she nor Arthur liked to tell their father what theyknew about him, but she thought that Hugh might do so, and might suggestthe plan which had occurred to her.
Arthur, after some time, came back. He had searched everywhere forGilbert, but had been unable to find him, his saddle was not in theharness-room, nor his pony in the stable; it was evident that he hadridden off somewhere.
In the evening Mr Maitland came back, and inquired for Gilbert. Hisother children were unwilling to say that they feared he had gone toChristchurch, for they hoped he might have taken a ride in some otherdirection. Night came on, and still he did not appear. Mr Maitlandinquired whether any of them could tell where Gilbert had gone. At lastMary confessed that he had said he should ride over to see Dick Hockley;but that she hoped, from her and his brothers' remonstrances, that hewould have refrained from doing so.
Hour after hour passed away, and Mr Maitland, at first angry, becameanxious about him. The night was too dark to permit of any one goingout to search for him; indeed, as there were numerous ways through theforest by which he could come, he might be easily missed. Midnightarrived, and he was still absent Mr Maitland now became seriouslyalarmed, and he, with Hugh and Arthur, went out in different directionsfrom the house, listening anxiously, in the hopes of hearing the soundof his pony's footsteps, but the roaring and whistling of the wind inthe trees drowned all other noises. At length they re-entered thehouse, Mr Maitland sent the rest of the family to bed, but sat uphimself watching for Gilbert's return.
CHAPTER TWO.
Gilbert knew his way, and that he could trust his little forest-bredpony to carry him safe home; so he gave it the rein, and let it gallopalong the open glade, though the gloom was often so dense that he couldnot see a yard beyond the animal's head. He had got some distance, andhad just crossed another road, when he heard the sound of horses' hoofsbehind him. There were several. They came on at a rapid rate. Who thehorsemen were he could not tell. Th
e sounds increased. He put hislittle forester at its swiftest gallop, but his pursuers were soon athis heels, and a stentorian voice shouted to him to stop, with thethreat of a pistol-bullet through his head. He pulled up, feeling thatall hopes of escape were vain.
"Who are you? what are you after here?" shouted the same voice, and twomen galloping up seized his rein. "What business takes you out at thistime of night, youngster?" asked one of the men.
"I am going home," answered Gilbert.
"Where is your home?" said one of the men, drawing a pistol from hisbelt; "answer truly, or I will send a bullet through you!"
"I am going to the house of Mr Maitland, my father," answered Gilbert,more frightened than he had ever before been in his life.
"Mr Maitland! you will not go there to-night!" exclaimed the man, with aloud curse.