Part 75 (2/2)

At this moment a loud clamor was heard in the gallery. In the next, the door was a.s.sailed by violent strokes, evidently proceeding from some weighty instrument, impelled by the united strength of several a.s.sailants.

The voice of Turpin rose above the deafening din. ”A bullet for the first who enters,” shouted he. ”Quick, Sir Luke, and the prize is safe--away, and----”

But as he seconded his exhortation with a glance at Luke, he broke off the half-uttered sentence, and started with horror and amazement. Ere the cause of his alarm could be expressed, the door was burst open, and a crowd of domestics, headed by Major Mowbray and t.i.tus Tyrconnel, rushed into the room.

”Nay, then, the game's up!” exclaimed d.i.c.k; ”I have done with Rookwood.”

And, springing through the panel, he was seen no more.

When the newcomers first looked round, they could perceive only two figures besides themselves--those of the two lovers--Eleanor having sunk pale, exhausted, and almost senseless, into the arms of Ranulph.

Presently, however, a ghastly object attracted their attention. All rushed towards it--all recoiled, as soon as they discovered that it was the lifeless body of Luke Rookwood. His limbs were stiff, like those of a corpse which has for hours been such; his eyes protruded from their sockets; his face was livid and blotched. All bespoke, with terrible certainty, the efficacy of the poison, and the full accomplishment of Barbara's revenge.

Handa.s.sah was gone. Probably she had escaped ere Turpin fled. At all events, she was heard of no more at Rookwood.

It required little to recall the senses of Eleanor. Shortly she revived, and as she gazed around, and became conscious of her escape, she uttered exclamations of thanksgiving, and sank into the embraces of her brother.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small had joined the a.s.semblage.

The worthy doctor had been full of alarm; but his meditated condolences were now changed to congratulations, as he heard the particulars of the terrible scene that had occurred, and of Eleanor's singular and almost providential deliverance.

”After what has befallen, madam,” said the doctor to Mrs. Mowbray, slightly coughing, ”you can no longer raise any objection to a certain union, eh?”

”I will answer for my mother in that particular,” said Major Mowbray, stepping forward.

”She will answer for herself, my son,” said Mrs. Mowbray. ”The match has her full and entire consent. But to what am I to attribute the unexpected happiness of your return?”

”To a chain of singular circ.u.mstances,” replied the Major, ”which I will hereafter detail to you. Suffice it to say, that but for this gentleman's fortunate arrival,” added he, looking at t.i.tus Tyrconnel, ”at the hut on Thorne Waste, I might have been detained a prisoner, without _parole_, and, what is worse, without provision perhaps for days; and to add to my distress, fully acquainted with the meditated abduction of my sister. It was excessively lucky for me, Mr. Tyrconnel, that you happened to pa.s.s that way, and for poor Paterson likewise.”

”Arrah, by my sowl, major, and you may say that with safety; and it was particularly fortunate that we stumbled upon the t.i.ts in the cellar, or we'd never have been here just in the nick of it. I begin to think we've lost all chance of taking d.i.c.k Turpin this time. He's got clean away.”

”I am not sorry for his escape,” said the major. ”He's a brave fellow; and I respect courage wherever I find it, even in a highwayman. I should be sorry to appear as a witness against him; and I trust it will never be my fate to do so.”

We shall not pause to describe the affectionate meeting which now ensued between the brother and sister--the congratulations upon Eleanor's escape from peril, intermingled with the tenderest embraces, and the warmest thanks offered to Ranulph for his gallant service. ”She is yours, my dear boy,” said the major; ”and though you are a Rookwood, and she bears the ill-fated name of Eleanor, I predict that, contrary to the usual custom of our families in such cases, all your misfortunes will have occurred _before_ marriage.”

”There is only one thing,” said Small, with a very peculiar expression, which might almost be construed into serio-comic, could we suspect the benevolent doctor of any such waggery, ”that can possibly throw a shade over our present felicity. Lady Rookwood is not to be found.”

”My poor mother,” said Ranulph, starting.

”Make yourself easy,” said the doctor; ”I doubt not we shall hear of her to-morrow. My only apprehension,” added he, half aside, ”is, that she may be heard of before.”

”One other circ.u.mstance afflicts me,” said Ranulph. ”Poor Mr. Coates!”

”What's that you say of Mr. Coates, Sir Ranulph?” exclaimed t.i.tus.

”I fear he was killed in the recent affray,” said Ranulph. ”Let some one search for the body.”

”Kilt!” echoed t.i.tus. ”Is it kilt that Mr. Coates is? Ah! _ullagone_, and is it over with him entirely? Is he gone to rejoin his father, the thief-taker? Bring me to his remains.”

”He will bring them to you himself,” said the attorney, stepping forward. ”Luckily, Sir Ranulph,” said the incurable punster, ”it was merely the _outer coats_ that your sword pa.s.sed through; the _inner_ remains uninjured, so that you did not act as my _conveyancer_ to eternity. Body o' me! I've as many lives as a cat--ha, ha!”

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