Part 38 (1/2)

”Necklace!” cried Melchior.

”Yes, the necklace put into my hands by your own wife when we parted.”

”d.a.m.n her!” replied Melchior.

”Do not d.a.m.n her; d.a.m.n yourself for your villainy, and its being brought to light. Have I said enough, or shall I tell you more?”

”Pray tell me more.”

”No, I will not, for I must commit others, and that will not do,”

replied I; for I felt I had already said too much.

”You have committed yourself, at all events,” replied Melchior; ”and now I tell you, that until--never mind,” and Melchior hastened away.

The door was again locked, and I was once more alone.

I had time to reflect upon my imprudence. The countenance of Melchior, when he left me, was that of a demon. Something told me to prepare for death; and I was not wrong. The next day Melchior came not, nor the next: my provisions were all gone. I had nothing but a little wine and water left. The idea struck me, that I was to die of starvation. Was there no means of escape? None; I had no weapon, no tool, not even a knife. I had expended all my candles. At last, it occurred to me, that, although I was in a cellar, my voice might be heard, and I resolved as a last effort, to attempt it. I went to the door of the cellar, and shouted at the top of my lungs, ”Murder--murder!” I shouted again and again as loud as I could, until I was exhausted. As it afterwards appeared, this plan did prevent my being starved to death, for such was Melchior's villainous intention. About an hour afterwards, I repeated my cries of ”Murder--murder!” and they were heard by the household, who stated to Melchior, that there was someone shouting murder in the vaults below. That night, and all the next day, I repeated my cries occasionally. I was now quite exhausted; I had been nearly two days without food, and my wine and water had all been drunk.

I sat down with a parched mouth and heated brain, waiting till I could sufficiently recover my voice to repeat my cries, when I heard footsteps approaching. The key was again turned in the door, and a light appeared, carried by one of two men armed with large sledge hammers.

”It is then all over with me,” cried I; ”and I never shall find out who is my father. Come on, murderers, and do your work. Do it quickly.”

The two men advanced without speaking a word; the foremost, who carried the lantern, laid it down at his feet, and raised his hammer with both hands, when the other behind him raised his weapon--and the foremost fell dead his feet.

PART TWO, CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

IS FULL OF PERILOUS ADVENTURES, AND IN WHICH, THE READER MAY BE a.s.sURED, THERE IS MUCH MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE.

”Silence,” said a voice that I well knew, although his face was completely disguised. It was _Timothy_! ”Silence, j.a.phet,” again whispered Timothy; ”there is yet much danger, but I will save you or die. Take the hammer. Melchior is waiting outside.” Timothy put the lantern in the bin, so as to render it more dark, and led me towards the door, whispering, ”When he comes in, we will secure him.”

Melchior soon made his appearance; and as he entered the cellar, ”Is it all right?” said he, going up to Timothy and pa.s.sing me.

With one blow I felled him to the ground, and he lay insensible. ”That will do,” replied Timothy; ”now we must be off.”

”Not till he takes my place,” replied I, as I shut the door and locked it. ”Now he may learn what it is to starve to death.”

I then followed Timothy, by a pa.s.sage which led outside of the castle, through which he and his companion had been admitted. ”Our horses are close by,” said Timothy; ”for we stipulated upon leaving the country after it was done.”

It was just dark when we were safe out of the castle. We mounted our horses, and set off with all speed. We followed the high road to the post town to which I had been conveyed, and I determined to pull up at Mrs McShane's, for I was so exhausted that I could go no further. This was a measure which required precaution; and as there was moonlight, I turned off the road before I entered the town, or village, as it ought to have been called, so that we dismounted at the back of Mrs McShane's house. I went to the window of the bed-room where I had lain down, and tapped gently, again and again, and no answer. At last, Kathleen made her appearance.

”Can I come in, Kathleen?” said I; ”I am almost dead with fatigue and exhaustion.”

”Yes,” replied she, ”I will open the back-door; there is no one here to-night--it is too early for them.”

I entered, followed by Timothy, and, as I stepped over the threshold, I fainted. As soon as I recovered, Mrs McShane led me up stairs into her room for security, and I was soon able to take the refreshment I so much required. I stated what had pa.s.sed to Mrs McShane and Kathleen, who were much shocked at the account.

”You had better wait till it is late, before you go on,” said Mrs McShane, ”it will be more safe; it is now nine o'clock, and the people will all be moving till eleven. I will give your horses some corn, and when you are five miles from here, you may consider yourselves as safe.

Holy saints! what an escape!”

The advice was too good not to be followed; and I was so exhausted, that I was glad that prudence was on the side of repose. I lay down on Mrs McShane's bed, while Timothy watched over me. I had a short slumber, and then was awakened by the good landlady, who told me that it was time for us to quit. Kathleen then came up to me, and said, ”I would ask a favour of you, sir, and I hope you will not refuse it.”