Part 9 (1/2)
”You must write immediately a few words, acquainting her with your position. I will see the letter safely delivered before the week is over.”
”What good can she possibly do me?” replied I.
”I cannot say; but this I know, that if anything is to be done, it will be. Write immediately.”
The priest called the gaoler and requested writing materials, which were brought, and in a few minutes I had done as he requested.
”There, Sir, I have written to please you; but I candidly state that I consider it a useless attempt.”
”Were I of your opinion, I should not have advised you to write,”
replied he. ”There are wheels within wheels that you have no conception of; in these troubled times. What I most fear is that it may arrive too late.”
The priest took his leave of me, and I was left to my own thoughts.
When I considered that the address of this lady had been given to me by the very man whom they were so anxious to secure as a traitor, I at once decided that no benefit could arrive from any interference on her part; and I therefore, after a quarter of an hour, dismissed the whole subject from my thoughts, and commenced my reading of the sacred writings. The following morning, when the gaoler came in, I could not help observing to him, that as I had been condemned so many days I felt much surprise at the delay of my execution. His reply was, that he heard that others were in custody upon the same charge, and that they waited for their convictions, that we might all suffer at the same time; for the order for my execution had come on the Friday last, but had been countermanded on the afternoon of the same day. Although this satisfied me that I had no hopes of escape, yet I was pleased that I had obtained more time for preparation, and I renewed my reading with ardour. Another week pa.s.sed, when the gaoler, with a solemn face, and much apparent concern, came in, and informed me that the other parties arrested had been tried before the Commission, and had been condemned, and that it was expected that the execution would take place either on the morrow or the day after.
The announcement did not affect me much. I had made up my mind that I should suffer, and had to a degree weaned myself from life. I considered how all hopes of my ever enjoying the delight of my family and kindred ties had flown away, and I looked with disgust upon my career as a privateersman--a career of recklessness and blood, so denounced by the sacred writings which I had before me. I reflected, that if I were to leave the prison I should have no other means of sustenance, and should probably return to my former life, and load my soul with a still heavier weight of crime; and, although I felt an occasional bitter pang at the idea of leaving the world so young--a world which I could not hate--still I was, after a few hours' communing and reflection, resigned to my fate, and exclaimed with sincerity, ”Thy will be done.” I think, Madam, you may have observed that, sinful as I was, my whole career proved that I was not a hardened sinner. Good was not driven entirely out of me, but was latent, notwithstanding all my excesses, and the bad company which had influenced me.
I now prayed, and prayed earnestly, and I thought that my prayers were heard. Such was my state of mind on the day before the one appointed for my execution, when the gaoler and one of the sheriff's officers came into my cell, accompanied by the Roman Catholic priest whom I have before mentioned. I perceived by the countenance of the gaoler, who was a humane man, that he had no unpleasant news. The sheriff's officer delivered to him an order for my liberation, and to my astonishment I was told by the gaoler that my pardon was signed, and that I was free.
I was stupified with the intelligence, and I stood without making any reply. The priest waved his hand to them as a hint to leave the room, which they both did. As they left, my eyes followed them, and then I cast them down upon the Bible which lay before me on the table, and, slipping down from the bench upon my knees, I covered up my face and prayed. My prayers were confused--I hardly knew what I said--but I knew that they were intended to be grateful to Heaven for my unexpected preservation from an ignominious death. After a time, I rose up, and perceived the priest, whose presence I had till then forgotten. He had been kneeling at the other side of the table praying with me, and I am sure for me--and he was rising up just after I had.
”I trust, Captain Elrington,” said he, after a pause, ”that the peril you have been in will influence your future life; and that this severe trial will not be thrown away upon you.”
”I trust not, Sir,” replied I. ”I feel that it has been good for me to have been afflicted, I believe that I have been indebted to your exertions for my deliverance.”
”No further than having seen your letter duly and speedily delivered. I could do no more, for with all will I have no power; and that was little to do for one who so generously a.s.sisted our friends in their distress.”
”Am I then to believe that I am indebted to the interest of a French lady, residing at the court of Versailles, for my deliverance?”
”Even so--this may appear strange to you, Captain Elrington, but such is the case. Understand, that in these troubled times the ruling monarch of this country cannot distinguish his friends from his enemies. He can only trust to professions, and they are not always sincere. There are many in the council at this time who, if the Pretender, as he is called, had succeeded, would long before this have joined him, and who had wished him success, although they dared not venture to a.s.sist him. The interest of the lady in question with these people has prevailed over the true adherents of the Hanoverian king, and thus through this lady have you obtained your release. I state this to you in confidence; to publish what I have told you would be to betray your friends. Can I be of any further service to you? For you can leave your prison as soon as you please.”
”None, I thank you, good Sir,” replied I; ”I have money more than sufficient to reward my gaoler, and to defray my expenses to Liverpool.”
”You have my best thanks and sincere wishes for your happiness. Then I will not intrude upon you any more, except to give you my address in case of need. You have made warm friends by your conduct, and if ever you require their a.s.sistance it will not be withheld.”
The priest gave his address upon a piece of paper and then came to me.
”Our creeds are not exactly the same, but you will not, my son, refuse my blessing?” said he, putting his hand upon my head.
”Oh, no,” said I, dropping on my knees, ”I receive it all in thankfulness.”
”May G.o.d bless you, my son,” said he; with emotion--and he then quitted the cell.
What with the previous excitement when my liberation was announced, and the parting with the kind priest, my feelings were so powerful, that, as soon as I was alone, I gave vent to them in a flood of tears. As soon as I was more composed, I rose from the bench, put my necessaries into my valise, and summoned the gaoler, to whom I made a handsome present, thanking him for his kindness during my incarceration. I then shook hands with him, feed the turnkey who had attended upon me, and in a minute more I was clear of the Tower gates. How my heart heaved when I was once more in the open air.
I looked around me, and perceived that many men were busy in erecting a scaffolding. My heart sank as I beheld them, as I felt certain what it was for; but, to verify my opinion, I turned to an old woman who had a sort of stall from which she dispensed mead to the populace, and inquired of her for what the scaffold was being erected.
”It's for the men who are to be executed to-morrow for aiding the Jacobites to escape,” said she. ”Won't your wors.h.i.+p take a gla.s.s of mead this morning?”