The Gipsy Part 37

"And why not?" demanded the peer, affecting as much unconcern as it was possible for him to a.s.sume when coming near the very subject of his wishes. "Why would any one prevent her from coming, if it would comfort you? He must be very cruel to deny you, when you have so short a time to live."

"No, he is not cruel," said the youth; "he is hard, but not cruel; but he would not let her come, do you see, because a year ago I was to have had Lena for my wife--at least so Mother Gray always told me: but then Pharold loved her; and though her own love did not lie that way, her mother, when she was dying, herself gave Lena to him, because he was better able to take care of her than any one else. And he does not love to see Lena speak to me, I know."

"So he took your bride from you," said the peer, not a little delighted to hear tidings which promised so fairly for success; "he took your bride from you, and now he is jealous of you. Well, then, listen to me, and mark well what I am about to say. Your fate is in your own hands. You are left to choose between life and death!"

The youth gazed dully in his face for a moment, as if he did not comprehend his words at first; but the next instant he burst forth, "Life, life, life, then!" cried he, clasping his hands together, and raising his eyes beaming with new hope: "life, oh, I choose life!"

"There is but one way, however," replied the peer, "by which you can obtain it. This Pharold, this very man who took away your bride, I have every reason to believe killed my brother and murdered my son."

"Then that is the way he gets money, no one knows how," cried the youth.

"Most probably it is," answered Lord Dewry; "but mark me, if you can contrive a means to get him into my power, you shall not only go free, but have a large reward. This is your only chance for life."

The lad's countenance fell in a moment. He was young, and the better spirit was the first to act. "No, no," he cried; "I hate Pharold, but I will not betray him."

"Then you must die," said the peer, sternly.

The better spirit was still predominant: no image presented itself to the youth's mind but that of betraying the chief of his tribe. He thought not for the moment of the loveliness of life, he thought not of the horrors of death, he remembered not either love or hate, in the strong impression of a duty which had been fixed in his heart from childhood; and he answered in a low sad tone, "Then die I will."

"But think," said the peer, who had antic.i.p.ated the first effect of his proposal, and reserved every stronger inducement, every palliating argument, to tempt and to excuse the unhappy youth, when the immediate impression was over--"think what it is you choose--imprisonment in a close room by yourself for several days; then trial and condemnation, and then death upon a gibbet, with n.o.body to comfort you, n.o.body to speak to you; but you must go through the horror, and the agony, and the shame all alone and unsupported." The boy shuddered, and the peer proceeded, changing the picture, however:--"This is what you choose.

Now what is it you cast away?--life, and happiness, and more wealth than ever you knew, and most probably the possession of the girl you love best upon the earth."

The peer was experienced in temptations; for he had undergone and yielded to them himself, and he knew, by the dark histories of his own heart, all the wiles and artifices by which the fiend lures on successfully even the firm and the determined to acts at which they have shuddered in their days of innocence.

The young gipsy listened, and hesitated, and felt all his resolutions give way; but so fearful was the struggle in his bosom, that his limbs trembled and his teeth chattered as if he had been shaken by an ague.

The keen eye that was upon him, however, did not fail to mark and understand his emotion; and Lord Dewry proceeded, "Well may Lena think you love her but little, when you scruple, by a few words, to break the hateful bonds that tie her to this murderer Pharold, and when you have the power to make her your own, yet refuse to use it."

"But I tell you," cried the boy, vehemently, "that Lena would never consent; that even if she were to know that I had done such a thing she would hate me and curse me; that I should be driven forth from my people, and never see her more."

"But neither she nor any one else," replied the peer, "need ever know one circ.u.mstance about it. If you will undertake to do what I wish, I will tell you a plan by which it may be accomplished, without any being on the earth knowing it but you and I."

"But if Pharold should be innocent," said the youth, "the guiltless blood would be upon my hand, and it would curse me."

"But if Pharold be innocent, his blood shall not be shed," replied the peer: "let him prove his innocence, and he shall go as free as you; but he cannot prove his innocence, for he is guilty; and you, in delivering him up, do but what is right and good; you do but avenge the innocent blood he has shed, though at the same time you gain for yourself life, and liberty, and happiness, and the girl that you love."

"Well, well, well!" cried the boy, "tell me what it is I am to do."

"Will you undertake it?" demanded the peer, eagerly.

"If," answered the gipsy--for probably there was never yet a crime committed, in regard to which the criminal did not propose some palliating motive, in order to deceive his own heart at the time, and to calm the antic.i.p.ated reproaches of his conscience thereafter--"if you will promise, by G.o.d and the heavens, that, if Pharold is innocent, you will let him go free."

Lord Dewry paused for an instant. It is strange, but no less true than strange, that the mind not only habituates itself to evil, but habituates itself to a particular course of evil, and the same person who will boldly reiterate a crime to which he is accustomed, will start at a much less heinous offence, if it be new to his habits.

Thus, Lord Dewry paused for an instant ere he swore to a promise which he intended to evade; but he soon remembered that, in the course which he was pursuing, there was no halting at so airy a thing as an oath; and he replied, "By all that is sacred, he shall go free, if he proves himself innocent."

"Well, then," said the youth, "I will do what you wish; but, oh, if you deceive me!"

"Deceive you in what?" demanded the peer. "I have promised that, if he prove himself innocent, he shall of course go free: it is but just."

"But it was not of that I spoke," said the gipsy: "I thought if you were to deceive me into trapping Pharold, and then not to let me go myself!"

"On my honour! on my soul!" cried the peer, with a ready vehemence, which convinced the youth more easily than would have been possible, if he had known how often men pledge their honour and their soul when the real jewels are no longer theirs--when their true honour has been lost for years, and their soul p.a.w.ned deeply to an eternal foe.

"Well, well," he answered, "I will do it. Tell me how it is to be done."

"Tell me first," said the peer: "this Pharold--he is jealous of you, it seems?" The boy smiled faintly. "Will he, then, take sufficient interest in your fate to attempt to rescue you, if he thinks there is a probability of success?"

"That he will!" answered the youth; "besides, if I could get at Lena, she would persuade him. But how can I get at her? She will not come here, and I cannot go to her."

"But do you think that if you were to send a message to her," demanded Lord Dewry, "that she would try to persuade him to attempt your rescue, and that she has influence enough to work him to her purpose?"

"That she has, that she has," answered the gipsy: "Pharold often gives her a cross word; but when she likes to try, she can always get her own way, for all that. But how can I send a message to her? I know not where she is, nor where Pharold is; though once, as I looked out through the bars of the window this morning, I thought I saw him through the gray mist, standing under the distant trees, and watching the house. But they may have gone far before this time; yet, if you were to let me out for a few hours, I would soon find them."

"We will seek a better way," answered the peer, without taking any further notice of the simple cunning with which the youth spoke. "I hear from my gamekeepers that a man from one of the neighbouring villages has been inquiring for you, and most likely he knows where your friends and companions are. Now, as you promise to do what I ask, he shall be admitted to see you, and you must send to Lena whatever message you think will induce her to persuade Pharold to come to your rescue."

"Yes," said the boy; "but I must first know how he can rescue me, for Pharold will never come unless he thinks it likely. Ay, and the story must be a clever one, too; for he is as cunning as a sentinel-crow, and smells powder at a mile's distance."

"I must leave you to frame the story as you think best," replied the peer; "but you can tell your fair Lena that if Pharold will come to your prison-window with a sharp file or a sledge-hammer, he can easily set you free by breaking the bars of iron that cross the opening. You may add, that there is never any one on that side of the house all night, and so that he will be perfectly safe."

The lad hung down his head; and the hot blood of shame, as he thought of what he was undertaking, rushed from his heart to his cheeks. There was again a momentary struggle, but the good had been conquered once already; and the thought of life, and Lena, and happiness, and freedom from the oppressive terror that weighed down his heart in his prison, got the better of everything besides; and he replied, "But what shall I do if they thrust the file and the sledge-hammer through the bars to me, and bid me work for myself?"

Lord Dewry instantly saw the validity of the youth's objection, and the probability that Pharold, instead of coming himself, would send some woman or some child with the implements which might be necessary for setting the prisoner at liberty. "You must tell them," he said, after some minutes' thought, "that you are so tied that you cannot cut through the bars for yourself."

"But the man who gives them the message will see that I am not tied,"

replied the youth; and, after pausing for a few moments, he added, "No, no; I have thought of a better way. I will not trust him with any particulars: I will bid him ask Lena and Mother Gray to work Pharold to get me out; but, at all events, for some one of them to come down, and speak with me through the bars to-night, and then I can make them do what I want. But you must let them go, remember!" he exclaimed.

"You must not stop the women if they come."

"I shall certainly stop none but Pharold," answered the peer: "the rest may come and go as they like. But only do not you trifle with me; for be you sure that you shall not only not have your liberty, but that, if Pharold be not in my power before to-morrow night is over, you shall be sent to the county-jail for instant trial."

"And how," said the youth, whose shyness was fast wearing away--"and how am I to get my liberty when Pharold is in your power?"

"The door shall be set open," answered the peer, "and you shall go out freely."

"But how can I be sure of that?" he demanded again.

"You may keep us both, for aught I know. Will you write it down? for I have heard that you Englishmen are more bound by what is written than by what is said."

Lord Dewry again paused for a moment, somewhat embarra.s.sed; but after revolving the probable consequences in his mind for some time, he replied, "I will write it down, if you require it."

"Do--do, then," said the youth; and the peer, ringing the bell, ordered writing-materials to be brought. As soon as they arrived, he sat down, and drew up a promise, artfully couched in such terms as he felt sure could not, in the slightest degree, implicate his character or betray his real views, if ever it should be produced against him.

"As the prisoner," so the writing ran, "now in custody at Dimden, is apparently only an accessary, and not a princ.i.p.al, in the crime lately committed at this place, I hereby promise him, on condition of his placing in the hands of justice the notorious felon Pharold, against whom various warrants have issued, at present unsuccessfully, that he shall be immediately set at liberty, as soon as he has accomplished the same. In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, this---- day of ----," &c. &c.

The youth's eyes sparkled as he read; and the prospect of liberty and safety which opened before him blotted out at once from memory the dark and villanous step which he must take to reach them. "I will do it! I will do it!" he cried; "but you must let me do it my own way, for I must not let anyone in the whole world know that it is my doing.

It must seem that he is taken by accident, while helping me, and that I have made my escape in the meantime; and then I shall be free, and Lena will be mine!" And the youth clapped his hands in the vehemence of reawakened hope.

"Well, well," said the peer, his anxiety for his ultimate object coming eagerly upon him as soon as his immediate purpose was accomplished--"well, well, the man I spoke of shall have admittance to you immediately. But, remember, you must lose no time; for the longest s.p.a.ce I can afford you is this night and to-morrow night."

"Some of the women will come to me to-night," answered the youth; "and to-morrow night, fear not, Pharold shall stand under the window of the prison-room, some time between the rising of the moon and the sun. So watch well, and if you take him not it is your own fault."