Tried for Her Life Part 22

"Yes, after all that! And yet I thank you all the same. I thank you all, that you have set me at liberty, and by so doing have given me the opportunity of voluntarily delivering myself up."

"Just as if Captain Inconnu would let you do it. I tell you he has his own reasons for saving your life," angrily retorted the girl.

"And I have my reasons for risking my life upon the bare chance of rescuing my good name," said Sybil, firmly; "and your captain would scarcely detain me here as a captive, against my will," she added, smiling strangely.

"Well, may be he would, and may be he wouldn't! but here he comes, and you can ask him," said the girl, as the galloping of a horse's feet was heard in the front yard.

A moment pa.s.sed, and then the robber chief, with three or four of his men, entered the room, bringing with them the mail bags and other booty taken from the stage-coach.

"Good-evening, Mrs. Berners! You are welcome back among your devoted slaves!" was the greeting of Captain Inconnu, as half in deference, half in mockery, he raised his cap and bowed low before the lady.

For an instant Sybil was dumb before the speaker, but she soon recovered her self-possession and said:

"I ought to thank you for your gallantry in rescuing me from the custody of those rude men; especially as the freedom you have given me affords me the opportunity of voluntarily doing that which I should not like to be forced into doing."

Captain Inconnu bowed in silence, and in some perplexity, and then he said,

"I am not sure that I understand you, madam, as to what you would do."

"I would go freely before a court of justice, instead of being forced thither," explained Sybil.

"I trust you would never commit such a suicidal act!" exclaimed the captain, in consternation.

"Yes, I would, and I will. I care nothing for my life! I have lost all that makes life worth the living! All is gone but my true honor--for its mere semblance has gone with everything else. I would preserve that true honor! I would place myself on trial, and trust in my innocence, and in the help of Providence," said Sybil, speaking with a stoical firmness wonderful to see in one so young.

Captain Inconnu, who had listened in silence, with his eyes fixed upon the ground, now lifted them to her face and replied:

"Sleep on this resolution before you act, Mrs. Berners; and to-morrow we will talk further on this subject."

"I must of necessity sleep on it before acting," said Sybil, with a dreary smile, "since nothing can be done to-night; but also I must tell you that nothing can change my resolution."

"Thus let it stand over until to-morrow," replied the captain. Then with a total change of tone and manner, he turned to Gentiliska and said:

"Now let us have supper, my little princess, and afterwards we will open the mail bags and see what they have brought us."

Gentiliska clapped her hands together, to summon the old woman of the band, who quickly made her appearance at the door.

"Supper immediately, Hecate!" said the girl.

The woman nodded and withdrew. And in a few moments she reappeared and summoned them in to the evening meal.

The supper was served in the rudest possible fashion. There was neither table nor chairs. A fine table-cloth not too clean was spread upon the floor, and on it were arranged a few plain articles of food such as could be quickly prepared.

"You will excuse our imperfect housekeeping, I hope, Mrs. Berners. The fact is we have just moved in, and have not got quite comfortably settled yet," laughed the captain as he folded his own cloak as a seat for Sybil, and led her up and placed her on it, and sat himself down by her side.

Other members of the band joined them at the meal, and Captain Inconnu and Gentiliska did the honors.

Fortunately there was nothing stronger than wine set before the men, and not much of that; and upon those who had been accustomed to strong brandy, and a great deal of it, this lighter beverage had but little effect. So, to Sybil's great relief, she perceived that they continued sober to the end of their repast.

"Come in now, and let us take a look at the contents of the mail bags!

That may afford some amus.e.m.e.nt to our lady guest," said Captain Inconnu, when they all arose from the supper.

They pa.s.sed into the front parlor, where the robber chief with his own hands opened the mail bags, and turning them up side down, emptied all their contents in a heap in the middle of the floor.

The robbers came and sat down around the pile, and began to seize and tear open the letters.

"Hallo, there, my men! When you open a letter with money in it, hand over the money to Gentiliska; she will gather and keep it all until we have gone entirely through this pile, and then we will divide it equitably, if not equally, among you," commanded the captain as he himself took a seat in the circle and began to a.s.sist in "distributing the mail." He also set the example of scrupulously handing over the money he found in the letters he opened, to the keeping of Gentiliska, who collected it all in a little pile on her lap.

Some of the letters he read aloud to the company for their amus.e.m.e.nt, such, for instance, as sentimental letters from city swains to their country sweethearts, begging letters from boys at college to their parents and guardians on the plantations, and dunning letters from metropolitan merchants to their provincial customers. Of these last mentioned, the captain said:

"Look sharp, boys! Here are the New Year's bills coming down! They won't be answered by return mail this time; but they will be sent down again.

After which remittances will begin to go up! We must keep a bright look-out for the up coaches about New Year's time! And we shall bag some neat thousands!"

"If we are not all bagged ourselves before that!" growled Moloch.

"Oh, raven! hush your croaking! If we should listen to it long, we would never venture upon an enterprise of spirit! Halloa, what's this?

Something that concerns you, Mrs. Berners!" exclaimed the captain, breaking off his discourse with his band and turning to Sybil, who was sitting quietly apart; and he held in his hand an open letter, from which he had taken a bright ribbon.

"Something that concerns me!" echoed poor Sybil, as a wild, irrational hope that the letter might contain news of her husband flashed across the dark despair of her soul.

"Yes," answered the captain. "This letter is from Miss Beatrix Pendleton to her brother. It acknowledges the safe receipt of her valuable India shawl, and sends love and thanks to _you_ for recovering it from _us_ and dispatching it to _her_. Moreover she sends kind remembrances and this gay ribbon to some old nurse of the name of Margy! Here is the letter! Would you like to read it?" he laughingly inquired, as he offered it to Sybil.

"No!" she answered, in strongly marked disapprobation; "that letter is a private one! not intended for my perusal, nor for yours!"

"No? And yet you see I read it! Here Gentilly! here is a

"'Bit of bright ribbon To bind up your bonny black hair!'"

laughed the captain, tossing the gay remnant to the girl, who caught it up and immediately twisted it in coquettishly among her ebon locks.

It occupied the band for nearly an hour to open and examine all the letters. When they had done so, and had taken everything that was valuable out of them, they gathered the whole refuse ma.s.s of papers together, and ruthlessly committed them to the flames.

Then they divided the money among themselves, the captain and his men having each an equal, instead of a graduated share.

"And now," said Captain Inconnu, "we will bid each other good-night, and try to get some rest. Princess, take our guest up-stairs to the large room immediately over this. She, you, and the other women will occupy that room to-night. Hecate has had my orders to that effect, and I hope you will find that she has made the place as comfortable as circ.u.mstances will permit."

And so saying, he stuck a stump of a tallow candle in a scooped-out turnip and handed it to Gentiliska, and motioned her to conduct their guest from the room.

Sybil very willingly left the company of the robbers, and followed her hostess to the chamber above.

It was a large bare room, warmed and lighted by a fine wood fire, and furnished only with a few pallets made of dried leaves, with blankets thrown over them.

The old crone called Hecate and the pale girl nicknamed Proserpine stood basking before the blaze of the fire.

Sybil felt pleased to know that she might sleep in peace that night, protected by the presence of other women.

"This is the new lady's bed, this best one in the corner here by the fire," old Hecate explained, pointing to a pallet that, in addition to its dried leaves and warm blankets, was graced with clean sheets and pillow-cases.