Sybil, or the Two Nations Part 70

"Very well," said Mr Mountchesney in a calm tone but changing colour.

"You had better go to your mama, Joan, and take Maud and our friend with you. I will stay below for a while," and notwithstanding the remonstrances of his wife, Mr Mountchesney went to the hall.

"I don't know what to do, sir," said the house steward. "They are a very strong party."

"Close all the windows, lock and bar all the doors," said Mr Mountchesney. "I am frightened," he continued, "about your lord. I fear he may fall in with these people."

"My lord is at Mowbray," said Mr Bentley. "He must have heard of this mob there."

And now emerging from the plantations and entering on the lawns, the force and description of the invading party were easier to distinguish.

They were numerous, though consisting of only a section of the original expedition, for Gerard had collected a great portion of the Mowbray men, and they preferred being under his command to following a stranger whom they did not much like on a somewhat licentious adventure of which their natural leader disapproved. The invading section therefore were princ.i.p.ally composed of h.e.l.l-cats, though singular enough Morley of all men in the world accompanied them, attended by Devilsdust, Dandy Mick, and others of that youthful cla.s.s of which these last were the idols and heroes. There were perhaps eighteen hundred or two thousand persons armed with bars and bludgeons, in general a grimy crew, whose dress and appearance revealed the kind of labour to which they were accustomed.

The difference between them and the minority of Mowbray operatives was instantly recognizable.

When they perceived the castle this dreadful band gave a ferocious shout. Lady de Mowbray showed blood; she was composed and courageous.

She observed the mob from the window, and re-a.s.suring her daughters and Sybil she said she would go down and speak to them. She was on the point of leaving the room with this object when Mr Mountchesney entered and hearing her purpose, dissuaded her from attempting it. "Leave all to me," he said; "and make yourselves quite easy; they will go away, I am certain they will go away," and he again quitted them.

In the meantime Lady de Mowbray and her friends observed the proceedings below. When the main body had advanced within a few hundred yards of the castle, they halted and seated themselves on the turf. This step re-a.s.sured the garrison: it was generally held to indicate that the intentions of the invaders were not of a very settled or hostile character; that they had visited the place probably in a spirit of frolic, and if met with tact and civility might ultimately be induced to retire from it without much annoyance. This was evidently the opinion of Mr Mountchesney from the first, and when an uncouth being on a white mule, attended by twenty or thirty miners, advanced to the castle and asked for Lord de Mowbray, Mr Mountchesney met them with kindness, saying that he regretted his father-in-law was absent, expressed his readiness to represent him, and enquired their pleasure. His courteous bearing evidently had an influence on the Bishop, who dropping his usual brutal tone mumbled something about his wish to drink Lord de Mowbray's health.

"You shall all drink his health," said Mr Mountchesney humouring him, and he gave directions that a couple of barrels of ale should be broached in the park before the castle. The Bishop was pleased, the people were in good humour, some men began dancing, it seemed that the cloud had blown over, and Mr Mountchesney sent up a bulletin to Lady de Mowbray that all danger was past and that he hoped in ten minutes they would all have disappeared.

The ten minutes had expired: the Bishop was still drinking ale, and Mr Mountchesney still making civil speeches and keeping his immediate attendants in humour.

"I wish they would go," said Lady de Mowbray.

"How wonderfully Alfred has managed them," said Lady Joan. "After all,"

said Lady Maud, "it must be confessed that the people--" Her sentence was interrupted; Harold who had been shut out but who had laid down without quietly, though moaning at intervals, now sprang at the door with so much force that it trembled on its hinges, while the dog again barked with renewed violence. Sybil went to him: he seized her dress with his teeth and would have pulled her away. Suddenly uncouth and mysterious sounds were heard, there was a loud shriek, the gong in the hail thundered, the great alarum-bell of the tower sounded without, and the housekeeper followed by the female domestics rushed into the room.

"O! my lady, my lady," they all exclaimed at the same time, "the h.e.l.l-cats are breaking into the castle."

Before any one of the terrified company could reply, the voice of Mr Mountchesney was heard. He was approaching them; he was no longer calm.

He hurried into the room; he was pale, evidently greatly alarmed. "I have come to you," he said; "these fellows have got in below. While there is time and we can manage them, you must leave the place."

"I am ready for anything." said Lady de Mowbray.

Lady Joan and Lady Maud wrung their hands in frantic terror. Sybil very pale said "Let me go down; I may know some of these men."

"No, no," said Mr Mountchesney. "They are not Mowbray people. It would not be safe."

Dreadful sounds were now heard; a blending of shouts and oaths and hideous merriment. Their hearts trembled.

"The mob are in the house, sir," called out Mr Bentley rushing up to them. "They say they will see everything."

"Let them see everything," said Lady de Mowbray, "but make a condition that they first let us go. Try Alfred, try to manage them before they are utterly ungovernable."

Mr Mountchesney again left them on this desperate mission. Lady de Mowbray and all the women remained in the chamber. Not a word was spoken: the silence was complete. Even the maid-servants had ceased to sigh and sob. A feeling something like desperation was stealing over them.

The dreadful sounds continued increased. They seemed to approach nearer.

It was impossible to distinguish a word, and yet their import was frightful and ferocious.

"Lord have mercy on us all!" exclaimed the housekeeper unable to restrain herself. The maids began to cry.

After an absence of about five minutes Mr Mountchesney again hurried in and leading away Lady de Mowbray, he said, "You haven't a moment to lose. Follow us!"

There was a general rush, and following Mr Mountchesney they pa.s.sed rapidly through several apartments, the fearful noises every moment increasing, until they reached the library which opened on the terrace.

The windows were broken, the terrace crowded with people, several of the mob were in the room, even Lady de Mowbray cried out and fell back.

"Come on," said Mr Mountchesney. "The mob have possession of the castle.

It is our only chance."

"But the mob are here," said Lady de Mowbray much terrified.

"I see some Mowbray faces," cried Sybil springing forward, with a flashing eye and glowing cheek. "Bamford and Samuel Carr: Bamford, if you be my father's friend, aid us now; and Samuel Carr, I was with your mother this morning: did she think I should meet her son thus? No, you shall not enter," said Sybil advancing. They recognised her, they paused. "I know you, Couchman; you told us once at the Convent that we might summon you in our need. I summon you now. O, men, men!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. "What is this? Are you led away by strangers to such deeds? Why, I know you all! You came here to aid, I am sure, and not to harm. Guard these ladies; save them from these foreigners! There's Butler, he'll go with us, and G.o.dfrey Wells.

Shall it be said you let your neighbours be plundered and a.s.sailed by strangers and never tried to shield them? Now, my good friends, I entreat, I adjure you, Butler, Wells, Couchman, what would Walter Gerard say, your friend that you have so often followed, if he saw this?"

"Gerard forever!" shouted Couchman.

"Gerard forever!" exclaimed a hundred voices.

"'Tis his blessed daughter," said others; "'tis Sybil, our angel Sybil."

"Stand by Sybil Gerard."

Sybil had made her way upon the terrace, and had collected around her a knot of stout followers, who, whatever may have been their original motive, were now resolved to do her bidding. The object of Mr Mountchesney was to descend the side-step of the terrace and again the flower-garden, from whence there were means of escape. But the throng was still too fierce to permit Lady de Mowbray and her companions to attempt the pa.s.sage, and all that Sybil and her followers could at present do, was to keep the mob off from entering the library, and to exert themselves to obtain fresh recruits.

At this moment an unexpected aid arrived.

"Keep back there! I call upon you in the name of G.o.d to keep back!"

exclaimed a voice of one struggling and communing with the rioters, a voice which all immediately recognised. It was that of Mr St Lys.

Charles Gardner, "I have been your friend. The aid I gave you was often supplied to me by this house. Why are you here?"

"For no evil purpose, Mr St Lys. I came as others did, to see what was going on."

"Then you see a deed of darkness. Struggle against it. Aid me and Philip Warner in this work; it will support you at the judgment. Tressel, Tressel, stand by me and Warner. That's good, that's right! And you too, Daventry, and you, and you. I knew you would wash your hands of this fell deed. It is not Mowbray men who would do this. That's right, that's right! Form a band. Good again. There's not a man that joins us now who does not make a friend for life."

Mr St Lys had been in the neighbourhood when the news of the visit of the mob to the castle reached him. He antic.i.p.ated the perilous consequences. He hastened immediately to the scene of action. He had met Warner the handloom weaver in his way, and enlisted his powerful influence with the people on his side.

The respective bands of Sybil and Mr St Lys in time contrived to join.

Their numbers were no longer contemptible; they were animated by the words and presence of their leaders: St Lys struggling in their midst; Sybil maintaining her position on the terrace, and inciting all around her to courage and energy.

The mult.i.tude were kept back, the pa.s.sage to the side-steps of the terrace was clear.

"Now," said Sybil, and she encouraged Lady de Mowbray, her daughters, and followers to advance. It was a fearful struggle to maintain the communication, but it was a successful one. They proceeded breathless and trembling, until they reached what was commonly called the Grotto, but which was in fact a subterranean way excavated through a hill and leading to the bank of a river where there were boats. The entrance of this tunnel was guarded by an iron gate, and Mr Mountchesney had secured the key. The gate was opened, Warner and his friends made almost superhuman efforts at this moment to keep back the mult.i.tude, Lady de Mowbray and her daughters had pa.s.sed through, when there came one of those violent undulations usual in mobs, and which was occasioned by a sudden influx of persons attracted by what was occurring, and Sybil and those who immediately surrounded her and were guarding the retreat were carried far away. The gate was closed, the rest of the party had pa.s.sed, but Sybil was left, and found herself entirely among strangers.

In the meantime the castle was in possession of the mob. The first great rush was to the cellars: the Bishop himself headed this onset, nor did he rest until he was seated among the prime binns of the n.o.ble proprietor. This was not a crisis of corkscrews; the heads of the bottles were knocked off with the same prompt.i.tude and dexterity as if they were sh.e.l.ling nuts or decapitating shrimps: the choicest wines of Christendom were poured down the thirsty throats that ale and spirits had hitherto only stimulated; Tummas was swallowing Burgundy; Master Nixon had got hold of a batch of tokay; while the Bishop himself seated on the ground and leaning against an arch, the long perspective of the cellars full of rapacious figures brandishing bottles and torches, alternately quaffed some very old Port and some Madeira of many voyages, and was making up his mind as to their respective and relative merits.

While the cellars and offices were thus occupied, bands were parading the gorgeous saloons and gazing with wonderment on their decorations and furniture. Some grimy ruffians had thrown themselves with disdainful delight on the satin couches and the state beds: others rifled the cabinets with an idea that they must be full of money, and finding little in their way, had strewn their contents--papers and books and works of art over the floors of the apartments; sometimes a band who had escaped from below with booty came up to consummate their orgies in the magnificence of the dwelling rooms. Among these were Nixon and his friends, who stared at the pictures and stood before the tall mirrors with still greater astonishment. Indeed many of them had never seen an ordinary looking-gla.s.s in their lives.

"'Tis Natur!" said Master Nixon surveying himself, and turning to Juggins.