Japhet in Search of a Father Part 36

The poor girl was burning with shame and confusion.

"Nay," replied I, "if Kathleen does not wish it, I will not buy my safety at the expense of her feelings."

"Yes, yes," replied Kathleen, "I don't mind now; those words of yours are sufficient. Come in, quick."

PART TWO, CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

PETTICOAT INTEREST PREVAILS, AND I ESCAPE; BUT I PUT MY HEAD INTO THE LION'S DEN.

There was no time for apology, and stepping over Kathleen, I buried myself under the clothes by her side. The mother then hastened down stairs, and arrived at the door just as they had succeeded in forcing it open, when in pounced a dozen men armed, with their faces blackened.

"Holy Jesus! what is it that you want?" screamed the landlady.

"The blood of the t.i.the proctor, and that's what we'll have," replied the O'Tooles.

"Not in my house--not in my house!" cried she. "Take him away, at all events; promise me to take him away."

"So we will, honey darlint; we'll take him out of your sight, and out of your hearing, too, only show us where he may be."

"He's sleeping," replied the mother, pointing to the door of the bed-room, where I had been lying down.

The party took the light from her hand, and went into the room, where they perceived the bed empty and the window open. "Devil a bit of a proctor here anyhow," cried one of them, "and the window open. He's off--hurrah! my lads, he can't be far."

"By the powers! it's just my opinion, Mrs McShane," replied the elder O'Toole, "that he's not quite so far off; so with your lave, or by your lave, or without your lave, we'll just have a look over the premises."

"O! and welcome, Mister Jerry O'Toole: if you think I'm the woman to hide a proctor, look everywhere just as you please."

The party, headed by Jerry O'Toole, who had taken the light out of Mrs McShane's hand, now ascended the ladder to the upper storey, and as I lay by Kathleen, I felt that she trembled with fear. After examining every nook and cranny they could think of, they came to Mrs McShane's room--"O! go in--go in and look, Mr O'Toole; it's a very likely thing to insinuate that I should have a t.i.the proctor in my bed. Search, pray," and Mrs McShane led the way into her own room.

Every part had been examined, except the small sleeping room of Kathleen; and the party paused before the door. "We must search,"

observed O'Toole, doggedly.

"Search my daughter's! very well, search if you please; it's a fine story you'll have to tell, how six great men pulled a poor girl out of her bed to look for a t.i.the proctor. It will be a credit to you anyhow; and you, Corny O'Toole, you'll stand well in her good graces, when you come to talk about the wedding-day; and your wife that is to be, pulled out of her bed by a dozen men. What will ye say to Kathleen, when you affront her by supposing that a maiden girl has a t.i.the proctor in bed with her? D'ye think that ye'll ever have the mother's consent or blessing?"

"No one goes into Kathleen's room," cried Corny O'Toole, roused by the sarcasms of Mrs McShane.

"Yes, Corny," replied Mrs McShane, "it's not for a woman like me to be suspected, at all events; so you, and you only, shall go into the room, if that will content ye, Mr Jerry O'Toole."

"Yes!" replied the party, and Mrs McShane opened the door.

Kathleen rose up on her elbow, holding the bed-clothes up to her throat, and looking at them, as they entered, said, "O Corny! Corny! this to me?"

Corny never thought of looking for anybody, his eyes were rivetted upon his sweetheart. "Murder, Kathleen, is it my fault? Jerry will have it."

"Are you satisfied, Corny?" said Mrs McShane.

"Sure enough I was satisfied before I came in, that Kathleen would not have anyone in her bed-room," replied Corny.

"Then good night, Corny, and it's to-morrow that I'll talk with ye,"

replied Kathleen.

Mrs McShane then walked out of the room, expecting Corny to follow; but he could not restrain himself, and he came to the bedside. Fearful that if he put his arms round her, he would feel me, Kathleen raised herself, and allowed him to embrace her. Fortunately the light was not in the room, or I should have been discovered, as in so doing she threw the clothes off my head and shoulders. She then pushed back Corny from her, and he left the room, shutting the door after him. The party descended the ladder, and as soon as Kathleen perceived that they were all down, she sprang out of bed and ran into her mother's room. Soon after I heard them depart. Mrs McShane made fast the door, and came up stairs.

She first went to her own room, where poor Kathleen was crying bitterly from shame and excitement. I had got up when she came into Kathleen's room for her clothes, and, in about five minutes, they returned together. I was sitting on the side of the bed when they came in: the poor girl coloured up when our eyes met. "Kathleen," said I, "you have, in all probability, saved my life, and I cannot express my thanks. I am only sorry that your modesty has been put to so severe a trial."

"If Corny was to find it out," replied Kathleen, sobbing again. "How could I do such a thing?"

"Your mother bid you," replied Mrs McShane, "and that is sufficient."

"But what must you think of me, sir?" continued Kathleen.

"I think that you have behaved most n.o.bly. You have saved an innocent man at the risk of your reputation, and the loss of your lover. It is not now that I can prove my grat.i.tude."

"Yes, yes, promise me by all that's sacred, that you'll never mention it. Surely you would not ruin one who has tried to serve you."

"I promise you that, and I hope to perform a great deal more," replied I. "But now, Mrs McShane, what is to be done? Remain here I cannot."

"No, you must leave, and that very soon. Wait about ten minutes more, and then they will give up their search and go home. The road to E--"

(the post I had lately come from) "is the best you can take; and you must travel as fast as you can, for there is no safety for you here."

"I am convinced that rascal McDermott will not leave me till he has rid himself of me." I then took out my purse, in which I still had nearly twenty guineas. I took ten of them. "Mrs McShane, I must leave you in charge of my portmanteau, which you may forward by-and-by, when you hear of my safety. If I should not be so fortunate, the money is better in your hands than in the hands of those who will murder me. Kathleen, G.o.d bless you! you are a good girl, and Corny O'Toole will be a happy man if he knows your value."

I then wished Kathleen good-bye, and she allowed me to kiss her without any resistance; but the tears were coursing down her cheeks as I left the room with her mother. Mrs McShane looked carefully out of the windows, holding the light to ascertain if there was anybody near, and, satisfied with her scrutiny, she then opened the door, and calling down the saints to protect me, shook hands with me, and I quitted the house.

It was a dark cloudy night, and when I first went out, I was obliged to grope, for I could distinguish nothing. I walked along with a pistol loaded in each hand, and gained, as I thought, the high road to E--, but I made a sad mistake: and puzzled by the utter darkness and turnings, I took, on the contrary, the road to Mount Castle. As soon as I was clear of the houses and the enclosure, there was more light, and I could distinguish the road. I had proceeded about four or five miles, when I heard the sound of horses' hoofs, and shortly afterwards two men rode by me. I inquired if that was the way to E--. A pause ensued, and a whisper.

"All's right!" replied a deep voice. I continued my way, glad to find that I had not mistaken it, and cogitating as to what must be the purpose of two men being out at such an hour. About ten minutes afterwards I thought I again heard the sound of horses' feet, and it then occurred to me that they must be highwaymen, who had returned to rob me. I c.o.c.ked my pistols, determined to sell my life as dearly as I could, and awaited their coming up with anxiety; but they appeared to keep at the same distance, as the sound did not increase. After half an hour I came to two roads, and was undecided which to take. I stopped and listened--the steps of the horses were no longer to be heard. I looked round me to ascertain if I could recognise any object so as to decide me, but I could not. I took the road to the left, and proceeded, until I arrived at a brook which crossed the road. There was no bridge, and it was too dark to perceive the stepping stones. I had just waded about half way across, when I received a blow on the head from behind, which staggered me. I turned round, but before I could see my a.s.sailant, a second blow laid me senseless in the water.

PART TWO, CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

UNDER GROUND, BUT NOT YET DEAD AND BURIED--THE PROSPECT ANYTHING BUT PLEASANT.

When my recollection returned I found myself in the dark, but where, I knew not. My head ached, and my brain reeled. I sat up for a moment to collect my senses, but the effort was too painful--I fell back, and remained in a state of half-stupor. Gradually I recovered, and again sat up. I perceived that I had been lying on a bed of straw, composed of two or three trusses apparently. I felt with my extended arms on each side of me, but touched nothing. I opened my eyes, which I had closed again, and tried to pierce through the obscurity, but in vain-- all was dark as Erebus. I then rose on my feet, and extending my hands before me, walked five or six steps on one side, till I was clear of the straw, and came to a wall. I followed the wall about twenty feet, and then touched wood; groping about, I found it was a door. I then made the circuit of the walls, and discovered that the other side was built with bins for wine, which were empty, and I then found myself again at the straw upon which I had been laid. It was in a cellar no longer used--but where? Again I lay down upon the straw, and, as it may be imagined, my reflections were anything but pleasing. "Was I in the power of McDermott or Melchior?" I felt convinced that I was; but my head was too painful for long thought, and after half an hour's reflection, I gave way to a sullen state of half-dreaming, half-stupor, in which the forms of McDermott, Kathleen, Melchior, and Fleta, pa.s.sed in succession before me. How long I remained in this second species of trance I cannot say, but I was roused by the light of a candle, which flashed in my eyes. I started up, and beheld Melchior in his gipsy's dress, just as when I had taken leave of him.

"It is to you, then, that I am indebted for this treatment?" replied I.

"No, not to me," replied Melchior. "I do not command here; but I knew you when they brought you in insensible, and being employed in the castle, I have taken upon myself the office of your gaoler, that I might, if possible, serve you."

I felt, I knew, this to be false, but a moment's reflection told me that it was better at present to temporise.

"Who then does the castle belong to, Melchior?"

"To Sir Henry de Clare."

"And what can be his object in treating me thus?"