Part 29 (1/2)
”You are a villain!” spoke the hot-tempered Irish maiden, with a glow in her eyes before which the evil-looking man before her quailed, although the scowl upon his face was an ugly thing to see. ”You are a thief and a villain, and I will see the Governor myself and tell him what you have been doing. Oh, it is infamous!--infamous! My poor father!”
The girl put her hands before her eyes for a moment to hide the tears that rose to them. Mona had the tall, graceful figure, regular n.o.ble features, and great grey eyes of the typical Irish maiden. She was standing beneath the walls, and within the precincts of, Lifford gaol.
Before her was a man of evil aspect, who wore the dress of a gaoler, and who swung a great bundle of keys in his hand. He had come forward confidently enough to meet the girl, smiling and almost cringing; but when she suddenly blazed forth at him in this impetuous fas.h.i.+on, he shrank and cowered before her as though he knew himself guilty of some dire offence.
”You have been taking our money all these years--money so hardly earned--so sorely spared; you have sworn that you spent it in providing better food and lodging for my dear father; and all the while you lied!--you lied! Black-hearted villain that you are! He has never been the better for it by one loaf of bread--by one flask of wine. You have stolen every coin. You have defrauded him and lied to us!”
The girl was shaken by the storm of her anger. The man stood before her tongue-tied and cowed.
He was not ashamed of his villainy; he was too hardened a wretch for that; but he was afraid lest the thing should become known to the Governor, who was a just and humane man, and who from time to time had been known to admit the prisoner's daughter to his presence at her earnest request.
”I am going to see the Governor about it,” concluded the girl, with a scathing look. ”He is a just man and merciful. He will at least know what to advise us for the future.”
Fury and terror filled the man's face; he recoiled a little, and fingered his heavy keys as though he meditated a savage a.s.sault upon the girl, standing before him in this great solitary courtyard. What if he silenced her voice for ever? Who would be the wiser? He shot a quick glance round him, as if to a.s.sure himself that there were no eyes upon him, and Mona at the same moment gave a half-scared, half-defiant gaze around herself. Some instinct warned her of his fell purpose, and she knew she was no match for him; but to quail or cower would but bring down the meditated blow upon her head. She stood with her clear gaze full upon his eyes, holding them, as men in the wilderness can sometimes hold a wild beast in thrall by the fixed stare of unwavering will.
She was not many paces from the little door by which she had entered. If she could gain that, she might be able to turn and fly. She made one backward step towards it; but even as she moved, she felt rather than saw that he was in the act of springing; and at that she darted backwards, tore open the door, and was through it before he could reach her. But she could not close it behind her to draw the bolt. He was too quick for that. She almost felt his hands at her throat, when suddenly she heard him utter a yell of terror; and turning saw him struggling in the grip of a tall and powerful young man, who must have been coming towards the door close under the wall, for she had not seen him as she darted out, and yet he had been there to catch her pursuer as he followed.
The terror of the man surprised Mona, as did also the fact that he made no resistance when once he saw into whose hands he had fallen. His arms dropped to his sides, and his jaw fell; he stood staring at the young athlete who had him in his grip as though bereft of sense.
”My father shall hear of this, sirrah!” spoke the youth with a final shake, as he let the wretch go; then he turned to Mona, and doffed his hat with a courtly air.
”He has not hurt you, fair maid, I trust!”
”Oh no, dear sir, I am not hurt. I thank you from my heart for this timely aid.”
”And what do you in this gloomy place, if I may ask the question? What errand has brought so fair a flower within the portals of a prison?”
At that question Mona's eyes filled with sudden tears, and she turned away her head to hide them.
”Alas, dear sir! mine is a sorrowful errand, and I have not been able to accomplish it; for we have been basely tricked and cozened these many years by yonder miscreant, who is slinking now away like a whipped hound. I would fain see the good Governor, and tell my tale of woe to him. He was kind before, it may be he will find a way to help me now.”
”I am his son,” answered the young man eagerly. ”I will take you to him speedily; and as we go you shall tell me your sad tale. Believe me, I will befriend you if I can. Have you some relative immured within the walls of this grim place?”
”Alas, sir, my father!” she answered with br.i.m.m.i.n.g eyes; ”and he has been here so many long, weary years. I was but little more than a child when they took him away and brought him hither, and now I am within a year of twenty summers. My poor father!--my poor innocent father!”
”Of what crime does he stand accused?” asked the young man, with ready interest.
”Of no crime save that of holding the Presbyterian faith,” she answered; ”that is all the wrong he has done--believing it and teaching it; for he is a minister of the Word, and our church at Raphoe was his charge, and we were happy and he was beloved of all. But you must know how when the King was restored to his kingdom over the water after the death of the iron Cromwell, he or his ministers issued edicts in this land, as well as in England and Scotland, for the re-establishment of the Prelacy; and those who desire to wors.h.i.+p after their own fas.h.i.+on, and not according to episcopal forms, are sorely beset and persecuted.”
”I know, I know,” answered her companion quickly and with sympathy. ”And so your father was one of those who suffered for his faith?”
”Yes, there were four of them,” answered Mona, her tongue unloosed by the friendliness of this stranger, ”and Bishop Leslie had them all cast into prison at the same time. They lie in this grim jail; and G.o.d alone knows when they will be suffered to come forth. But we heard that the prisoners here were harshly treated, and had scarcely the necessaries of life supplied them. It was after hearing this that I went one day and craved speech of the Governor. I did first beg him to let me see my dear father; but that he might not permit. He said, however, that I might speak with the jailer who had charge of him, and obtain through him such things as we could make s.h.i.+ft to purchase for him to lessen his privations and sufferings. The man promised faithfully, and every penny we can spare has been sc.r.a.ped and h.o.a.rded and given over to him; and we believed that father had such comforts as they could get for him; we believed that till a few days ago; and then--and then----” The girl's voice grew husky, the bright tears rolled down her cheeks. Her companion took the words out of her mouth.
”You heard in some roundabout fas.h.i.+on that your money had gone into the pockets of that wretch, and that your father had in no wise profited thereby.”
”Yes, yes; that was it. One of our friends has obtained his liberty; they say there is hope that others will follow. We saw him. He came to us. He has now and then had a brief moment of speech with my dear father. Nothing has ever reached him from without. He has suffered all the rigours of his harsh captivity.”
”And you did have the bravery to go to yon miscreant who has had the charge of your father, here in this prison, and who has appropriated the money, and tell him of his ill-deeds; and this it was that wakened his evil pa.s.sions and ferocity? This it was that made him chase you forth, and seek to do you hurt!”
”I told him I would tell the Governor,” panted Mona, with hot, indignant eyes; ”and then I saw that he would fly at me; and so I sought to reach the door ere he had time. But he would have done me a mischief had it not been for your good help.”
”Then come now to my father and tell him all the tale,” cried the young man, whose name was Derrick Adair, ”and we will see if some way cannot be found for mending matters for your good father. At least that rogue of a jailer shall receive his due reward--or punishment!”