Garrick's Pupil Part 20

"Merciful Heaven! what shall I do?" cried Mrs. Marsham wringing her hands.

"You had better warn your son," suggested the Irishman.

The Quakeress quaked with terror.

"Reuben! He will overwhelm me with reproaches!"

"Never mind what he says. He is the betrothed of his cousin; he is energetic and courageous; if any one is capable of s.n.a.t.c.hing the girl from impending doom, it is he. There is not a moment to be lost."

"But where shall we find him?"

"As to that," replied Fisher, "nothing is easier. All day long he has been at the head of the papal enemies. I must be greatly mistaken if he is not at this moment engaged in setting fire to the Sardinian chapel."

It was thereupon decided to place Mrs. Marsham in safety in Fisher's house, which was near Oxford Road, while the two men went in search of Reuben.

The hairdresser had friends everywhere. At the door he received fresh tidings which confirmed his suppositions. Capt. Hackman, Lord Mowbray's inseparable companion, had been seen in Oxford Road with a pistol under each arm. A carriage without armorial bearings, with neutral colored livery, had been stationed at a short distance. A masked gentleman with a brown and blue domino upon his arm had come out of the Pantheon. He had signalled the carriage, which had approached, and the man and woman had entered it. Thereupon Hackman sprang upon the box, saying to the coachman, "To Chelsea!" Then the horses set off at full speed towards the left, narrowly escaping running over people. There was still another version which a page had to tell. It was the same masked man and the domino in the same colors; only the affair had taken place at one of the little side-doors of the Pantheon. Instead of the coach a sedan-chair had carried off the fugitive towards the right, in the direction of the city. In affairs of the kind there are always points of difference among the witnesses. Who was to be believed? Evidently those who had recognized Hackman and heard the address given to the coachman. It was towards the "Folly" at Chelsea that Mowbray had undoubtedly taken his victim. Fisher was an alert and intelligent man. Some minutes later, divested of his turban, his Persian robe, and his beard, he joined Reuben in Duke Street. The vandals had achieved their work, and the crowd of by-standers, lit up by the flames, gloated over the spectacle.

The blazing pile, formed of the ornaments of the chapel, was beginning to flag for lack of combustibles.

A horde of children of fourteen or fifteen years of age, having taken the places of the men, danced about the charred remains, uttering cries and causing a flame to spring up here and there by administering a kick to the embers. A transient glow illumined the street, revealing the faces of terrified women at the windows, and in an obscure corner a group of the rioters with their hats drawn down over their eyes. Among them stood Reuben, coldly implacable, watching lest any one should approach the fire to save or steal anything.

It was at this moment that Fisher approached him and whispered a few words in his ear. Reuben started in surprise and rage.

"Esther carried off by Lord Mowbray! Taken to Chelsea!" he gasped.

However, he quickly regained his composure and reflected for a moment.

"Friends," he said in a loud but firm voice, in order to make himself heard by the thirty or forty men grouped about him, "there is nothing more to be done here. If we remain longer we shall be hunted down by the soldiers, of whose approach we have already been warned. Let us disperse, to meet again within the hour at Chelsea, near the Bun-house.

Thence I will lead you to the a.s.sault of a house, the master of which secretly favors the papists."

For the time being Reuben was falsifying; but examples in Holy Scriptures which authorized a pious lie crowded his memory. He also added in an a.s.sured tone, casting an expressive glance upon the band of pillagers who had given some sign of discontent,--

"This house is full of riches. It also contains a young girl prisoner, one of our own set, whom this villain has seized to make her the toy of his pleasure. Let us hasten if we hope to arrive in time to save her!"

These words were received with murmurs of adhesion. The little legion of disorder divided into groups, set off through the streets that led westward, and gained the place of rendezvous by different ways. Reuben accompanied Fisher, who recounted the details of the adventure as they went along.

The Bun-house was celebrated at the period for the fabrication of those somewhat heavy and substantial cakes which still form the traditional family diet on Good Fridays. In fine weather a goodly company was wont to wend its way thither for the purpose of eating buns and washing them down with port. When George III. pa.s.sed that way, on his way from Kew to Saint James's, he did not disdain to stop and chat familiarly with Mistress Hand, the pastry-cook. She must have slept like a log that night not to have heard the strange a.s.semblage which formed under the walls of her garden. Reuben found but a few of the fanatical sectarians whom he had led to Parliament. Weary with the fatigues of the day, content with having intimidated the representatives of the nation, as they flattered themselves, and destroyed two of the lairs of idolatry, they had undoubtedly gone home and to bed. One phrase only in Reuben's brief harangue had carried the day,--"This house is full of riches!"

Well might he be astonished, for the words had fallen unintentionally from his lips. But if Reuben remained unmoved, Fisher trembled at sight of the bandit faces which surrounded him. Seeing them thus, no one would have suspected that these shady cavaliers were marching to the defence of menaced innocence.

All told, they were some forty men armed with pistols, clubs, and knives. Truly formidable, resolute, ready for anything, accustomed, as it appeared, to such nocturnal escapades, they marched silently, and obeyed promptly with some show of discipline.

"Yonder is the house," said Reuben, "behind those trees. It is best to form a ring about it so that no one shall escape us."

"I have been hostler at the Folly," said a red-headed fellow with a hang-dog look, advancing as he spoke; "there is a breach on the north side of the wall through which I used to slip every night to join my sweetheart Peg, who was maid at the Nell Gwynne. If it be your will, I will conduct you."

"Lead on!" answered Reuben laconically.

A few minutes later the troop penetrated the little park and crept softly in the shadow of the great trees, avoiding the gravelled paths.

The thick sward m.u.f.fled their footfalls, while a high, warm wind, which had arisen, rustled the foliage, thus favoring them by masking still more such sounds as they did make. Occasionally a pebble crackled or a dead twig snapped beneath their feet, but that was all. For the s.p.a.ce of fifty yards about the house extended an open s.p.a.ce.

"Halt!" whispered Reuben in a prudent tone.

The house was in complete darkness; it seemed either uninhabited or wrapped in sleep; however, upon examination Reuben and Fisher discovered a ray of light which filtered between the closed blinds upon the second floor.

"They are there!" thought Reuben, quivering with rage; while aloud he cried,--

"Forward!"

They obeyed the command with a rush; but undoubtedly some one had been watching, some one whom they had not perceived. The alarm had been given, and the heavy oaken door, swinging upon its well-oiled hinges, closed in their faces. Then from within followed the sound of bolts being shot into place and of the adjusting of bars.

A pause ensued, a moment of amazement, and then an outcry of rage mingled with at least forty oaths. The man who had spoken before, the former hostler, again ventured to the rescue.

"Behind the laundry," said he, "there is a pile of lumber, placed there for the building of a summer house. With one of the rafters we could force the door."

Reuben approved the scheme. A few moments later an improvised battering-ram, borne upon twenty shoulders and skilfully balanced, at the word of command went crashing against the solid woodwork. At the third blow a splitting sound was heard.

"Listen!" cried Fisher. "Some one above is speaking."

The men, panting, and bathed in perspiration, paused.

In fact, a window upon the second floor had been suddenly thrown open, and a man--probably Lord Mowbray--had appeared upon the balcony. Every eye was raised to him and every tongue hurled some insult at him in the same breath. With a calm curiosity he regarded the crowd swarming and howling in the darkness beneath him.

"Gentlemen," he said, "we are at least a dozen strong here, well armed and determined to defend ourselves. The first man who sets foot within this house will pay dearly for his imprudence; but before we resort to bloodshed, suppose we hold a parley. What is your will with me? Do you fancy, perhaps, that I am a papist? According to my nurse I am a member of the Church of England, and I am ready to p.r.o.nounce in your presence the test oath or any other oath, to swear by the body of Christ, the belly of Mahomet, by Belial or Beelzebub."

This harangue scandalized Reuben's virtuous friends, while it set their rowdy escort in a roar of laughter. Young Marsham was not slow to appreciate the _prestige_ which such jocose coolness in the hour of his peril was giving Mowbray,--a supreme quality in the eyes of an English mob; therefore he hastened to interpose.

"You are detaining a young girl here whom you have abducted from her family," he declared.

"It is true," answered Lord Mowbray; "there is a young lady here. Do you wish to see her?"

"At once! I insist upon it!"

"I do not understand your last words, but I willingly yield to your request. Madam, be good enough to show yourself to these gentlemen, who are nervous about you."

He turned towards the interior of the chamber and bowing respectfully, with much grace extended his hand to a woman who stood there, and a.s.sisted her to step out upon the balcony. At the same time he added,--

"Hackman, my good fellow, give us some light."

Capt. Hackman, with a blazing torch in each hand, appeared upon the balcony in his turn.

"It is she!" cried Fisher. "I recognize the brown domino and the blue ribbons! I can swear that it was I who furnished that mask!"

"Madam," said Mowbray with renewed demonstrations of respect, "are you here of your own free will?"

The masked woman gave an affirmative sign.

"Has any one molested or offended you in any way?"

She answered by a negative gesture.