Cruel As The Grave Part 52

"Yes, a lover. She comes here to meet him; and not liking eye-witnesses to the courts.h.i.+p, she drugged us," said Mr. Berners, triumphantly.

"That is the most violent and far-fetched theory of the mystery. Nothing but our desperate need of an elucidation could excuse its being put forward," said Captain Pendleton, drily. Then he spoke more earnestly: "Berners, whatever may be the true explanation of all that we have experienced here, one thing seems certain: that your retreat here is known to at least one person, who may or may not be inimical to your interests. Now my advice to you is still the same. Stop this girl the first time you see her again, and compel her to give an account of herself. Conceal your names and stations from her, if possible, and in any case bribe her to silence upon the subject of your abode here. If it were prudent, I should counsel you to leave this chapel for some other place of concealment; but really there seems now more danger in moving than in keeping still. So I reiterate my advice, that you shall enlist this strange girl in your interests."

"But before cooking your hare, you must catch it," said Sybil. "We may see this visitant a dozen times more, but we will never be able to stop her. She appears and vanishes! Is seen and gone in an instant! But, Captain Pendleton, I will tell you what I wish you to do for me."

"I will do anything in the world that you wish, except believe in ghosts."

"Then you will bring me a crowbar, or whatever the tool or tools may be with which strong doors may be forced. I want that grated iron door forced open, that we may go down into that vault and see what it holds."

"Good Heavens Mrs. Berners!" he exclaimed, striking a theatrical att.i.tude.

"'Would'st bid me burst The loathsome charnel-house, and Spread a pestilence?'"

"I want to see what is in it; and I _will_," persisted Sybil.

"Bring the tools when you come again, Pendleton, and we will open the door, and examine the vault," added Mr. Berners.

"Ugh! you will find it full of coffins and skeletons--

"'And mair o' horrible and awfu'

Whilk e'en to name wad be unlawfu'.'"

"You are in a poetical mood, Pendleton."

"And you are in a sepulchral one. Both effects of the opium, I suppose."

While they talked the sun went down.

Captain Pendleton remained with his friends until the twilight deepened into darkness; and then, promising to return the next night, and wondering where he should find his horse, or how he should get home, he took leave and departed.

The strange life of the refugees in the Haunted Chapel seriously interfered with their hitherto regular and healthful habits. They had slept nearly all day, when they should have been awake. And now they intended to watch all night, partly because it was impossible for them to sleep any more then, and partly because they wished to stop their mysterious visitant, in the event of her reappearance.

But the girl in the red cloak came not that night, no, nor even the next day; nor did any other mysterious visitor or unusual event disturb their repose, or excite their curiosity.

Late that night their faithful friend returned, according to his promise. He told them that he had found his poor horse still in the thicket where he had left him, with water and gra.s.s in his reach. That he had got home in safety, where his absence had not excited any anxiety, because his sister had supposed him to be at Black Hall.

He then described the funeral of Rosa Blondelle, which had taken place that day, and which had been attended not only by all the county gentry, who had gathered to show their respect and sympathy for the dead, but also by crowds of all sorts of people, who came in curiosity to the scene.

And then, taking advantage of a few minutes during which Sybil was engaged in her housekeeping corner of the chapel, he told Mr. Berners that the search-warrants having failed to find the fugitives, a rumor had been spread that they had certainly left the neighborhood on the morning of the murder, and that they had been seen at Alexandria, by a gentleman who had just come from that city.

"This story," added Captain Pendleton, "is so confidently reported and believed, that an officer with a warrant has been this day dispatched to Annapolis."

"Oh! good Heaven! How zealously her old neighbors do hunt my poor guiltless Sybil," groaned Mr. Berners.

"Take courage! This rumor, together with the journey of the officer to Annapolis, opens a way for your immediate escape. So I propose that you prepare to leave this place to-morrow night, and take a bee line to Norfolk. There you must take the first outward bound s.h.i.+p for Europe, and remain abroad until you can with safety return home."

At this moment Sybil came up.

Without mentioning to her the existence of the warrants which were out against her, and which was the only part of Captain Pendleton's communication that it was expedient to conceal from her, Lyon Berners, with a smile of encouragement, told her that they were to leave the Haunted Chapel the next night, to go to Norfolk.

"And we cannot even yet go home?" sighed Sybil.

"No, dear wife; it would scarcely yet be prudent to do so. But we can go to Europe, and travel over the Continent, and see the wonders of the Old World, leaving our friend here with a power of attorney to manage our estate and collect our revenues, and remit us money as we require it. We can stay abroad and enjoy ourselves until such time as justice shall be done, and we can return to our home, not only with safety, but in triumph," replied Lyon Berners, cheerfully.

Sybil too caught the infection of his cheerful manner, whether that were real or a.s.sumed, and she too brightened up.

The friends then discussed the details of the projected flight.

"In the first place," began Captain Pendleton, "you must both be so well disguised as to seem the opposite of yourself in rank, age, and personal appearance. You, Lyon, must shave off your auburn beard, and cut close your auburn hair, and you must put on a gray wig and a gray beard--those worn by your old Peter, in his character of Polonius at your mask ball, will, with a little tr.i.m.m.i.n.g, serve your purpose. Then you must wear a pair of spectacles and a broad-brimmed hat and an old man's loose fitting, shabby travelling suit. I can procure both the spectacles and the clothes from the wardrobe of my deceased father. Mrs. Berners, too, should cut her hair short, and wear a red wig and a plain dress. The wig you wore as Harold the Saxon will suit very well, with a little arrangement. Then I can procure the dress from my sister. You must travel as a poor old farmer, and your wife must go as your red-headed illiterate daughter. You are both excellent actors, and can sustain your parts very well."

"Dear me!" said Sybil, half crying, half smiling; "I have been warned that it is never well to begin any enterprise of which one does not know the end. And I'm sure when I undertook to give a mask ball and take a character in it, I had not the slightest idea that the masquerade would last longer than a night, or that I should have to continue to act a character."

"Never mind, darling; it is but for a season. Go on, Pendleton. You seem to have settled everything in your own mind for us. Let us hear the rest of your plan," said Mr. Berners.

"It is this," continued the Captain. "I will bring these disguises to you to-morrow night. I will also have a covered cart, loaded with turnips, potatoes, apples, and so forth; I will have this cart driven by your faithful Joe down to the Blackville ferry-boat, in which of course he can cross the river with his load of produce unsuspected and unquestioned."

"Or even if some inquisitive gossip should ask him where he might be going, Joe would be ready with his safe answer. He can beat us in baffling inquiry," put in Sybil.

"Like all his race," laughed Lyon.

"The chance you have mentioned is provided for. Joe is instructed to answer any haphazard questioner, that he is bringing the load to me, which will be the truth."

"But proceed, dear Pendleton. Develop your whole plan," urged Mr.

Berners.

"Well, then, once safe on this side of the river, Joe will drive the cart to some convenient spot, to which I myself will guide you."

"Ah, how much trouble you take for us, Pendleton!" sighed Lyon.

"Not at all. As far as I am concerned, it is a piquant adventure. Try to look at it in that light. Well, to our subject. When you reach the cart you can put your wife inside, and then mount the driver's seat, and start upon your journey like a plain old farmer going to market to sell his produce. As you will have but the one pair of horses for the whole journey, you will see the necessity of making very short stages, in order to enable them to complete it."

"Certainly."

"And now listen! Because you must make these short stages and frequent stoppages, and because you must avoid the most travelled roads, it will be necessary for you to take a map of the State, and follow the most direct route to Norfolk."

"Which is not the turnpike road used by the mail stagecoaches, for that diverges frequently five or ten miles to the right or left of the line, to take in the populous villages," put in Lyon Berners.

"Yes; I see you comprehended me! Well, I should farther advise you, when you reach Norfolk, to put up at some obscure inn near the wharves, and to embark in the very first s.h.i.+p that sails for Europe, even if it should set sail within an hour after your arrival."

"You may rest a.s.sured that we shall not loiter in Norfolk," said Mr.

Berners.

"As for the draught horses and cart, if you have time, you can sell them. If not, you can leave them at the livery stable, and on the day of sailing post me a letter containing an order to receive them."

"You think of everything, dear Pendleton."

"I can't think of anything else just now," replied Captain Pendleton.

"Well, then, we will have some supper," said Sybil rising to prepare it.