Boycotted Part 37

"`Ill a week, and I never heard!' I exclaimed. `Why did no one tell me?'

"`Your honour may remember you have not examined your letters for these three days past.'

"It was true. In the whirl of excitement, with late nights and later mornings, and never-ending frivolity, my very letters had lain on my mantelshelf unopened!

"My man turned to take my horse away to the stable. His action recalled me suddenly to myself.

"`Hold!' I said; `leave the horse here, Tucker, and help me into the saddle again.'

"Tucker gazed at me in astonishment, but did as he was bid.

"`I am going to Culverton,' I said, shortly, taking up the reins.

"`To Culverton! At this hour, and in this weather!' said Tucker, in tones of alarm. `Stay at any rate till you have had a night's rest, for you need it, master, and till I can put up what you need for the journey.'

"`Let go my horse, man!' I cried, excitedly, setting spurs to the animal and abruptly ending the honest fellow's remonstrance.

"The thought of my father lying ill, dying perhaps, and me here revelling in Ogilby, made it impossible for me to contemplate a moment's delay, even so much as to change my gay attire or provide myself with necessaries for the journey. Culverton was thirty miles distant. I had a good horse, and with all my dissipation I was capable of a fair share of endurance. I therefore yielded to my impulse, and halting only to leave word with a comrade whom I met to explain my absence to the colonel, I dashed off into the night on my way to Culverton.

"What were my thoughts during those first few hours I need hardly tell you. I hope and trust none of you will ever be tortured by the self- reproach of which I was then the victim.

"For some distance out of Ogilby the roads were pretty good, and I made tolerable progress; so that when morning broke about seven I was at least a dozen miles on my journey. I could scarcely brook the delay of a few minutes at the first village to rest my horse and swallow a hurried breakfast; but I knew that for the rest of the way accommodation, either for man or beast, was very limited, and, therefore, prudence made the unwelcome delay a necessity.

"Once more in the saddle I hoped to make up for lost time; but in this I was fated to be disappointed. For scarcely had I got beyond the village when the weather suddenly changed. The chill morning air freshened to a wind which brought snow with it, light at first, but increasing in heaviness as the day went on. The road rapidly became covered, and my horse, unable on the treacherous foothold to maintain the canter of the morning, was compelled to slacken into a trot.

"I was in no gear for weather like this, as you may suppose. I still wore the light festive attire of the previous night, covered only with my military cape, which I now drew more closely around me at every step.

How I wished I had taken Tucker's prudent advice! But it was too late to help it now.

"What troubled me most was not the cold, or the driving snow in my face, but the slow pace at which progress was now possible. I had hoped to reach Culverton by noon, but by noon I had accomplished scarcely two- thirds of the distance, and every moment the difficulties of the way were increasing. My horse trudged on gallantly. The trot had long since given place to a walk, and the walk in turn often became a sheer struggle for progress through the drifts and obstacles of the uncertain road.

"As for me, I was nearly frozen in my saddle, and more than once was compelled to dismount and tramp along beside my horse in the deep snow in order to keep the blood going in my veins. And all the while the thought of my father lying there at Culverton, neglected perhaps, with no son at hand to tend him, drove me nearly frantic.

"The afternoon dragged on, and towards dark the snow ceased to fall.

That was at least some comfort, for to battle through that storm in the dark would have been an impossibility. As it was, my good horse was even now ready to drop, and I was in little better plight. If either of us failed it meant an entire night in the snow, and that would be little short of certain death. It was a dreary prospect.

"However, as I say, the snow ceased to fall, and towards night the sky overhead began to clear, until presently the moon shone out and lit up the wintry scene. But for this light we might have lost our way hopelessly, for the road lay over a heath, which being all covered in snow, we had only the wayside posts to direct us and keep us on the beaten track.

"It must have been near eight o'clock, sixteen hours since I had left the a.s.sembly at Ogilby, when I caught sight in the moonlight of a small cottage a little way removed from the road on our right. The sight of this, the first habitation we had pa.s.sed for hours, was welcome indeed.

I could scarcely stand with hunger, fatigue, and cold, and my brave horse was stumbling at every step. Our only chance of reaching Culverton that night was in seeking such rest and refreshment as this place might afford, and I therefore gladly turned aside and led my weary steed along the by-path that led up to it.

"It was a small tumbledown cottage, or rather barn, and my fond hopes as to fire and refreshment were dashed at once. It was empty. The broken door stood ajar, the roof was nearly fallen in, and everything within and without testified that for weeks at any rate it had been deserted.

Still it had walls and a roof, and so if we were not to have board we might at least for an hour or so help ourselves to lodgings.

"I led my horse in, and after much groping about was delighted to discover in one corner of the hovel a sort of stall, which had evidently at one time or other been occupied by a cow. The ground was still strewn with a little old and very vile straw, which, however, was an unexpected luxury to us both, and a mere mouthful of stale hay remained in the trough. To these desirable quarters I conducted my faithful companion, who without ceremony devoured the hay, and then, too exhausted to stand, dropped into a rec.u.mbent posture, and lay stretched on his side on the straw. I quickly followed his example, creeping as close to his side as I could for the sake of the warmth, and thus we lay in the dark, resting as we had never rested before after our day's work.

"My own fear was lest I should fall asleep. In spite of my anxiety about my father, and my bitter reproaches against myself, I felt a stupor come over me which it was almost more than human nature to resist. Once or twice I dozed off for a moment, and then woke by an effort, each time more painful, until I was tempted at last to give in and resist no longer, whatever it cost.

"I had just come to this resolve when I became suddenly aware of the sound of voices in the cottage. Whoever they belonged to, I felt sure they must have entered after me, for I had explored every corner of the place when I took possession. They had probably entered during one of my fits of drowsiness."

My first impulse was to discover myself to the new comers, and see if they could help me and my horse in our distress. But on second thoughts I decided to remain where I was until I could ascertain at least who the intruders were, and if they had any better right in the cottage than I had. I was wide awake now, and raising myself noiselessly from my horse's side, I crawled to the side of the stall and peered over.

"By the uncertain light of a small fire of sticks which they had made, I saw two men sitting on the floor regaling themselves with bread and meat and the contents of a bottle. The sight of these good things made me still more inclined to disclose my presence, but prudence again forbade; besides which there was something strange about the look of the men, and the place where they were, which excited my curiosity.

"For a long time they continued their meal in silence. It went to my heart to see the victuals disappearing at such a rate, as you may suppose.

"At length, when, for the present at any rate, their appet.i.tes seemed to be appeased, they began to talk once more.

"`You're sure there's no mistake this time?' said one.

"`I have his own word for it,' replied the other. `I tell you, Tom, he's planned it all out like Bonaparte himself.'

"`All I can say is,' said he who was called Tom, `I hope something will come of it, for I'm sick of all this doing nothing.'

"`You may be sure something will come of this,' replied the other; `and it will be something worth the while too, unless I'm mistaken, for the old gentleman is very rich; see here,' said he, producing some papers from his pocket, `this is what he says.'

"He began to read a letter, and you may fancy how I, listening behind the part.i.tion, started as I heard it.

"`Jack,' it said, `I'm watched and can't come. You and Tom must do it without me. Be you know where by eight on Friday night, and I'll send one I can trust to show you the way and help you through with it. You may rely on him, though he's a queer dog. Here's a map of the grounds of Culverton, but you won't need it, for he I send knows the place well.

The steward is on our side, and will leave the back door unlatched.

The strong box stands in the study, the second door on the left after you pa.s.s the great clock. The old man lies ill, and only two maids are in the house besides. The young puppy is away at Ogilby. Bring what you get to the tower by the river on Sat.u.r.day night. There are jewels in the desk in the old man's room. He cannot hurt--if he tries he must be quieted--you know how.'

"I was so horrified that for a moment or two I scarcely knew whether I was awake or dreaming. My poor father, not only ill, but in peril of robbery, and perhaps murder! And I, what could I do? My impulse was to spring from my retreat and make one desperate effort to overpower the villains. But I was too weak to do it. Besides I was unarmed, whereas they had each his pistol. What could I do?

"The man who had read the letter carefully put it, along with the rough map of the Culverton grounds, into the fire, and the two sat and watched the papers as they burned.

"`He's a good man of business,' said Tom.

"`Middling,' replied the other; `and if he--'

"At that moment my horse gave a sudden start in his sleep. The quick ears of the two villains instantly caught the sound.

"`Hullo!' said one in a whisper, `what was that?'

"`Hist!' said the other, holding up his hand, `strike a light, Tom.'

"While Tom obeyed I softly dropped on my hands and knees and crawled back to my old place beside the horse, where I lay motionless, and to all appearance in a profound sleep.

"`I'm sure I heard something,' said Tom, holding up the lantern. From where they were they could see nothing but the side of the stall. They therefore crept round stealthily; and as I lay I saw the light suddenly turn on the horse.

"`A nag, as I'm a Dutchman, and saddled too!' exclaimed Tom.

"`If that's so, the rider's not far off,' said the other, grimly, taking the lantern and advancing.

"It was all I could do to lie motionless, breathing heavily, as the light fell full on my face.

"`Ah! found him!' was the exclamation, as both rushed towards me.

"I heard the c.o.c.king of a pistol close beside me, and was conscious of a rude plucking at my arm.