Part 51 (1/2)
”Ha!” said he, when he was nearly dressed, ”what if this should be a Government prosecution for what I have undertaken to do on my own responsibility during the last Administration? But no, surely it cannot be; they would have given me some intimation of their proceedings. This was due to my rank and station in the country, and to my exertions, a zealous Protestant, to sustain the existence of Church and State. Curse Church and State if it be! I have got myself, perhaps, into a pretty mess by them.”
He had scarcely uttered the last words when Mr. Hastings, accompanied by two or three officers of justice, entered his bedroom.
”Ah, Hastings, my dear friend, what is the matter? Is there any thing wrong, or can I be of any a.s.sistance to you? if so, command me. But we are out of power now, you know. Still, show me how I can a.s.sist you. How do you do?” and as he spoke he put his hand out to shake hands with. Mr.
Hastings.
[Ill.u.s.tration: PAGE 143--No, Sir Robert, I cannot take your hand]
”No, Sir Robert, I cannot take your hand, nor the hand of any man that is red with the blood of murder. This,” said he, turning to the officers, ”is Sir Robert Whitecraft; arrest him for murder and arson.”
”Why, bless me, Mr. Hastings, are you mad? Surely, I did nothing, unless under the sanction and by the instructions of the last Government?”
”That remains to be seen, Sir Robert; but, at all events, I cannot enter into any discussion with you at present. I am here as a magistrate.
Informations have been sworn against you by several parties, and you must now consider yourself our prisoner and come along with us. There is a party of cavalry below to escort you to Sligo jail.”
”But how am I to be conveyed there? I hope I will be allowed my own carriage?”
”Unquestionably,” replied Mr. Hastings; ”I was about to have proposed it myself. You shall be treated with every respect, six.”
”May I not breakfast before I go?”
”Certainly, sir; we wish to discharge our duty in the mildest possible manner.”
”Thank you, Hastings, thank you; you were always a good-hearted, gentlemanly fellow. You will, of course, breakfast with me; and these men must be attended to.”
And he rang the bell.
”I have already breakfasted, Sir Robert; but even if I had not, it would not become me, as your prosecutor, to do so; but perhaps the men--”
”What,” exclaimed the baronet, interrupting him, you my prosecutor! For what, pray?”
”That will come in time,” replied the other; ”and you may rest a.s.sured that I would not be here now were I not made aware that you were about to be married to that sweet girl whom you have persecuted with such a mean and unmanly spirit, and designed to start with her for England this day.”
Whitecraft, now that he felt the dreadful consequences of the awful position in which he was placed, became the very picture of despair and pusillanimity; his complexion turned haggard, his eyes wild, and his hands trembled so much that he was not able to bring the tea or bread and b.u.t.ter to his lips; in fact, such an impersonation of rank and I unmanly cowardice could not be witnessed. He rose up, exclaiming, in a faint and hollow voice, that echoed no other sensation than that of horror:
”I cannot breakfast; I can eat nothing. What a fate is this! on the very day, too, which I thought would have consummated my happiness! Oh, it is dreadful!”
His servant then, by Mr. Hastings' orders, packed up changes of linen and apparel in his trunk, for he saw that he himself had not the presence of mind to pay attention to any thing. In the course of a few minutes the carriage was ready, and with tottering steps he went down the stairs, and was obliged to be a.s.sisted into it by two constables, who took their places beside, him. Mr. Hastings bowed to him coldly, but said nothing; the coachman smacked his whip, and was about to start, when he turned round and said:
”Where am I to drive, Sir Robert?”
”To Sligo jail,” replied one of the constables, ”as quick as you can too.”
The horses got a lash or two, and bounded on, whilst an escort of cavalry, with swords drawn, attended the coach until it reached its gloomy destination, where we will leave it for the present.
The next morning, as matters approached to a crisis, the unsteady old squire began to feel less comfortable in his mind than he could have expected. To say truth, he had often felt it rather an unnatural process to marry so lovely a girl to ”such an ugly stork of a man as Whitecraft was, and a knave to boot. I cannot forget how he took me in by the 'Hop-and-go-constant' affair. But then he's a good Protestant--not that I mean he has a single spark of religion in his nondescript carca.s.s; but in those times it's not canting and psalm-singing we want, but good political Protestantism, that will enable us to maintain our ascendancy by other means than praying. Curse the hound that keeps him? Is this a day for him to be late on? and it now half past ten o'clock; however, he must come soon; but, upon my honor, I dread what will happen when he does. A scene there will be no doubt of it; however, we must only struggle through it as well as we can. I'll go and see Helen, and try to reconcile her to this chap, or, at all events, to let her know at once that, be the consequences what they may, she must marry him, if I were myself to hold her at the altar.”
When he had concluded this soliloquy, Ellen Connor, without whose society Helen could now scarcely live, and who, on this account, had not been discharged after her elopement, she, we say, entered the room, her eye resolute with determination, and sparkling with a feeling which evinced an indignant sense of his cruelty in enforcing this odious match. The old man looked at her with surprise, for, it was the first time she had ever ventured to obtrude her conversation upon him,or to speak, unless when spoken to.