Sir Jasper Carew Part 49

"Just so," said he, with a faint smile.

"And if I still refuse, sir?"

"Then the law must deal with you. Have you anything more to say to me?"

"Nothing," said I, resolutely; for now my mind was determined, and I no longer hesitated what course to pursue.

Mr. Addington now returned to the adjoining room, and I followed him.

For a few moments a whispered conversation was maintained between him and one or two of the others, after which the magistrate, a certain Mr.

Kirby, said to me,--

"It appears, young man, that you have a reluctance, from conscientious scruples, about giving your evidence in this case; but probably when I tell you all that is required of you is a simple act of identification, and, moreover, that the charge against the prisoner is the very weightiest in the catalogue of crime, you will not any longer hesitate about your obvious duty."

He waited for a few seconds; but as I made no reply, he went on:--

"This Frenchman is accused of nothing less than the premeditation of a murder; that he is, in fact, a hired a.s.sa.s.sin, paid for the crime of murdering the exiled King of France. The evidence against him is exceedingly strong; but, of course, the law will place within his reach every possible means of defence. It is needless to say that no private or personal feeling can exist in such a case, and I really do not see how you can decline your aid to the cause of justice."

I was still silent; my difficulties were increasing every moment; and as they thickened around me, I needed time to decide how to proceed.

Perhaps my anxious appearance may have struck him, for he quickly said,--

"You will be specially warned against saying anything which might criminate yourself, so that you need have no fears on that account."

These words at once suggested my course to me; and whatever peril there might lie in the way, I determined to take shelter under the pretence that I was myself implicated in the conspiracy. I do not seek to excuse myself for such a subterfuge; it was the last refuge I saw in the midst of my difficulties, and I sought it in all the misery of half-desperation.

"I am not going to betray my confederates, sir," was my dogged reply to his appeal; and no other could all their argument and entreaties obtain from me.

Some of those present could not believe me guilty, and warmly pressed me to rescue myself, ere too late, from the odious imputation; others but saw their previous impressions confirmed by what they called my confession; and, between them, my poor head was racked and tortured by turns. The scene ended at last by my being committed to Newgate, under suspicion, and till further evidence could be adduced against me.

It was clear that either they greatly doubted of my guilt, or were disposed to regard me as very slightly implicated, for I was not confined in a cell or with the other prisoners, but accommodated with a room in the jailer's own apartment, and received as a guest at his table.

I was not only treated with kindness and attention here, but with a degree of candor that amazed me. The daily papers were freely placed before me, and I read how a well-known member of the "French Convention," popularly called Couvre-Tete, but styling himself the Count de Gabriac, had been brought up before the magistrates under a charge of a grave description, which, for the ends of justice, had been investigated with closed doors. Several others were in custody for their implication in the same charge, it was added, and great hopes maintained that the guilty parties would be made amenable to the law.

Mr. Holt, the jailer, spoke of all the pa.s.sing events of the day freely in my presence, and discussed the politics and position of France, and the condition of parties, with all the ease of old intimacy between us.

At first, I half suspected this to be a mere artifice to lure me on to some unguarded expression, or even some frank admission about myself; but I gradually grew out of this impression, and saw him as he really was, a straightforward, honorable man, endeavoring to lighten the gloom of a dreary duty by acts of generosity and benevolence. Save that it was captivity, I really had nothing to complain of in my life at this period. Mr. Holt's family was numerous, and daily some two or three guests, generally persons in some degree placed similarly to myself, were present at his table; and with these my time pa.s.sed smoothly and even swiftly along.

The confinement, however, and a depression, of which I was not conscious myself, at length made their impression on my health, and one morning Mr. Holt remarked to me that I was scarcely looking so well as usual.

"It is this place, I have no doubt," said he, "disagrees with you; but you will be liberated in a day or two."

"How so?" asked I, in some surprise.

"Have you not heard of Gabriac's death," said he, "by suicide? He was to have been brought up a second time for examination on Friday last, but he was found dead in his cell, by poison, on Thursday evening."

I scarcely heard him through the details which followed. I only could catch a stray expression here and there; but I collected enough to learn that he had written a full exculpation of all the others who had been accused with himself, and specially with regard to me, of whom, also, it was said, he forwarded some important papers to some one high in station.

This conversation occurred on a Sat.u.r.day, and on the following Monday I was liberated.

"I told you how it would be, Mr. Carew," said Holt, as he read me out the order, "and I hope sincerely there are now better and pleasanter days before you. More prosperous ones they are likely to be, for I have a Secretary of State's order to hand you one hundred pounds, which, I can a.s.sure you, is a rare event with those who leave this."

While I stood amazed at this intelligence, he went on:

"You are also requested to present yourself at Treverton House, Richmond, to-morrow, at eleven o'clock, where a person desires to see and speak with you. This comes somewhat in the shape of a command, and I hope you'll not neglect it."

I promised rigid obedience to the direction; and after a very grateful recognition of all I owed my kind host, we parted, warm and cordial friends, and as such I have never ceased to believe and regard him.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII. A GLIMPSE OF A NEW PATH

Shall I own it that when I once more found myself at liberty, and with means sufficient for the purpose, my first thought was to leave England forever? So far as I was concerned, my country had shown herself anything but a kind mother to me. It was an impulse of patriotism--a vague desire to serve her--had brought me to her sh.o.r.es; and yet my requital had been at first neglect, and at last imprisonment. Had I the very slightest clew to where "my mother" and Raper were, I should inevitably have set out to seek them; but of the track I knew nothing whatever. I ransacked my few letters and papers, amongst which I found the yet undelivered note to the Pere Tonsurd; and this I determined to present on that very day. The mere thought of meeting with one to whom I could speak of my kind friends at Linange was a comfort in the midst of all my desolation.

On arriving at his lodgings, however, I learned that he had gone to Richmond; and as suddenly I bethought me of my own visit, the hour for which had already gone by. Determining to repair my fault as well as I could, I set out at once, and by three o'clock in the afternoon arrived at a neat-looking house, standing in a small park that descended to the river, and which, they told me, was Treverton. All I could ascertain of the proprietor was that he was a French gentleman, an _emigre_, who had lived there for two years, and was popularly known as the "General," his servants always giving him that t.i.tle. I presented myself at his door and sent in my card, with the request that I might be admitted to an interview.

Before I could well believe that my message was delivered, the servant returned to say that the General was expecting me since morning, and desired to see me at once. I followed him through two or three rooms till we reached a door covered with green cloth, and which concealed another behind it, on opening which I found myself in a small chamber fitted up like a library, where two gentlemen were seated at a table.

One arose as I entered, and in a polite, but somewhat haughty, tone said,--

"You are scarcely as punctual, sir, as I had hoped. Eleven o'clock was, I think, the hour mentioned."

As the appointment had not been of my seeking, I returned a very cold and half-careless apology for my tardy appearance; but he stopped me quietly, saying,--

"Apparently, then, you have not been informed as to the object of this visit, nor by whom--"

A hasty gesture from the other interrupted his speech, and he stopped short.

"I mean," added he, "that you are unaware of the reason for which your presence here has been requested."

"I have not the slightest knowledge of it, sir," was my reply.

"We wished to see and speak with you about many things in France, sir.

You have latterly been there? We are given to understand that you are a shrewd observer, and we desire to learn your views of events, and of the people who direct them. Our own informant induces us to believe that the tide of popular favor is turning against the men of violent opinions, and that a wiser and healthier tone pervades the nation. Does that agree with your experience?"

"Quite so, sir; there cannot be a second opinion on the question."

"And the old attachment to the monarchy is again displaying itself, far and near, through the country?" added he, warmly.

"There I cannot go with you, sir," was my answer; and although his look was a fierce, almost an angry one, I continued: "The military spirit is that which now sways the nation, and he who can best gratify the thirst of glory will be the ruler. The kings of France have been but pageants of late."

"Be discreet, sir. Speak of what you know, and do not dare to insult--"

he paused, and then added, "an ancient follower of his sovereign."

His age and his fervor repressed any resentment the speech might have suggested, and I only said,--

"You asked me for opinions, sir, and I gave you mine frankly. You must not be displeased if they do not always chime with your own."

"Monsieur is perfectly right. His remark is a just one," said the other, who now spoke for the first time.

"I think he is mistaken, though," replied the former. "I fancy that he is led away by that vulgar cant which sees in the degradation of one solitary individual the abas.e.m.e.nt of his whole cla.s.s and order. By the way, you knew that same Count de Gabriac?"