CHAPTER X.
Hildebrand Clifford, on distinguishing the sound that had alarmedhim to be the tread of an approaching foot, gently laid hishand on the arm of the young Spaniard, who was a pace or twonearer the door, and drew him back. The sound came nearer, andHildebrand felt his friend’s arm, which he still held, trembleviolently. His agitation, though it might be owing to his extremeyouth, and the novelty and strong excitement of the occasion,more than downright cowardice, greatly degraded him in theestimation of Hildebrand, and he began to regard him with somedegree of contempt. But recollecting that it was to serve himthe young cavalier had placed himself in danger, the feelinghad scarcely found harbourage in his bosom, on the spur of thediscovery, when he repelled it; and the irresolution of theSpaniard only rendered him more prompt and decided.
The former seemed to be sensible that it was on Hildebrand theirsafety depended. On coming behind the door, he presented him withhis pistols; and, without interchanging a word, or manifestingthe least hesitation, yielded himself passively to his control.
Meantime, the unfriendly footstep, after approaching close tothe door, suddenly paused, and the door was pushed open. As thedoor opened, it screened Hildebrand and his ally, who, withthis view, had placed themselves on the inner side of it; and,consequently, the person entering did not observe them. Nor couldthey, at the first start, survey him, being equally blinded bythe door, though, from his ignorance of what had passed, he alonewas open to surprise. To take him by surprise was Hildebrand’sobject. Directly he heard him clear the range of the door, andbefore he could glance round the dungeon, he threw the door back,and, while he thus cut off his retreat, prepared to reduce him tosubjection.
The individual thus surprised was one of the gaoler’s assistants.He was a short man, and, though thick-set, of a frame that, in astruggle for mastery, would render him but a poor match for themuscular energies of Hildebrand. He was, moreover, except fora long knife which was thrust through his girdle, unarmed, andfurther incapacitated for offensive measures by his surprise.
His first glance had informed him of the position of affairsin the dungeon, and, with the door closed against retreat, hissurvey, it may be supposed, was not calculated to encourage him.While he was yet overwhelmed with alarm, Hildebrand, seizinghis arm with one hand, levelled one of his pistols at him withthe other, and, in a decided and peremptory tone, proceeded torequire his surrender.
“Lie thee down there,” he said, pointing to where his master, thegaoler, still lay senseless, “and no harm shall come to thee. Ifthou hesitate, I will straight take thy life.”
The man, however, did hesitate, though only for a moment. Seeingthat Hildebrand displayed no indecision, he shortly fulfilled hisinjunction, and laid himself down by the gaoler without a word.
All these incidents, which it has taken so long to describe,scarcely occupied a moment, and, as has been remarked, the gaolerwas still insensible. Hildebrand did not fail to seize thisadvantage. Directly the gaoler’s man had lain down, he hastenedto secure him, and, at the same time, further secure his master,by tying them together by their arms and legs. Their leathergirdles, with the sash of his companion, which he quicklypossessed himself of, supplied him with the necessary bonds; and,in a moment after the design had occurred to him, they no longerafforded him ground for any apprehension.
Having tied them well together, he turned to his ally.
“Now, Senhor, quick!” he said. “Take up the light, and lead theway.”
The young Spaniard, with a trembling hand, which Hildebranddid not overlook, caught up the lamp, and drew open the door.Hildebrand followed him into the passage, when, turning round,he paused to secure the door. Having drawn it home to the jamb,and shot the bolts into their sockets, he prepared to set forwardagain.
“Art thou well advised of the way?” he whispered to his companion.
“Right surely,” answered the other. “But there is a chamber onone side of the door, overlooking the passage, where, when Ientered, there was an alguazil on guard. I waited there, on myentry, while the gaoler examined my pass; and I noted that thealguazil was armed.”
Although Hildebrand had remarked in the young cavalier what hecould not but consider as traces of cowardice, the manner inwhich he delivered this information, and the forethought andjudgment revealed by its acquisition, effaced the impression hehad conceived in that respect, and quite restored him to hisesteem. Indeed, he began to think, from his present bearing andaspect, that the manifestations which he had supposed to indicatepusillanimity were rather the effect of the passing excitement,and that it was the novelty of his situation, not its peril, thathad so sensibly agitated him. He did not pause to make thesereflections, but, with the quickness of perception peculiar tohis profession, caught them on the instant; and then rendered hisreply.
“’Twas most admirably noted, Senhor,” he said. “Take good heartnow; and lead the way.”
The Spaniard, without making a reply, hereupon stepped forward,and preceded Hildebrand up a contiguous flight of steps. Onreaching the summit, they found themselves in a short passage,which was crossed, a little higher up, by another passage,running the whole length of the gaol. Glancing up the passageon his right hand, Hildebrand distinguished the gaol-door; andon one side of this, in the wall of the passage, the open doorof the guard-chamber. A flood of light issued from the latterdoorway; and the necessity for their own light being thussuperseded, Hildebrand signed to his companion, who was waitinghis directions, to lay it down. He then waved him to the rear,and, with a cautious but unhesitating step, led the way himself.
All was quiet. But the guard-chamber, if the light were anyevidence, was no doubt tenanted, and probably by more personsthan one. It is true, it was close to the door; but itsproximity, far from being advantageous, was rather adverse toa clandestine egress, and, as the door of the chamber was wideopen, to pass it unobserved was almost beyond their hopes. Evenshould they be able to accomplish this object, they had still toopen the gaol-door, which, at the least, was well secured withbolts, and might possibly be locked.
Hildebrand was fully alive to these varied difficulties. After hehad once stepped forward, however, he did not pause, but pursuedhis way undaunted.
They passed along on tiptoe. They ordered their movements sonoiselessly, that the silence, unbroken by their progress, rangin their ears, and they could almost hear the beat of their ownhearts. A few paces brought them in a line with the door, andHildebrand, emboldened by the prevailing stillness, ventured topeep round.
In a line with the door, on the further side of the chamber,was a fire; but the smoke which issued from it passed prettyregularly through the chimney-hole in the roof, and the view,though clouded, was no way broken. A man stood before the fire,warming one of his hands; and though he had his back to the door,a lighted lamp which hung from the roof, about midway across,enabled Hildebrand to observe that he was armed. Indeed, oneof his hands, which was thrown back from the fire, clasped thebarrel of a caliver, the butt of which rested on the floor; andeven if he had no other weapon, he was in this invincible.
As Hildebrand observed his disposition, he mechanicallyraised his pistol, and levelled it at his head. But, thoughself-preservation is an overpowering impulse, the truly braveheart, however excited, will always shrink from a sacrifice oflife; and Hildebrand had scarcely extended his pistol when hedrew it back. Still holding the pistol in his hand, he placed theother hand, which he had at liberty, on the arm of his companion,and passed that person towards the gaol-door.
The young Spaniard reached the door in a moment. The guard, asin the first instance, still kept his face to the fire, andevidently felt perfectly secure. Satisfied with his disposition,Hildebrand resolved to pass the aperture himself. He had reachedthe middle of the doorway, when, feeling secure of the guard,he ventured to turn off his gaze, and glance at his companion.Just as he did so, the guard, whether from a desire to change hisposition, or that he heard something to alarm him, wheeled roundfrom the fire, and perceiv
ed him. He raised his caliver directly,and, with a steady aim, levelled it at Hildebrand’s head.
“Stand!” he cried, “or I fire!”
Hildebrand stood as still as a statue. To move was certain death;for the guard, besides that he stood right opposite to him, wasscarcely twelve paces distant. His companion, although, from hisbeing under the cover of the passage-wall, he could not see theguard, fully understood his situation, and saw that his firstmovement would probably be his last. A spasm passed over his faceas this horrible truth occurred to him. For a moment--not onlyas regarded his person, but his complexion--he seemed perfectlypetrified: then, with recovered energy, he darted forward, andthrew himself between Hildebrand and his enemy.
His unexpected obtrusion evidently threw the latter off hisguard. Before he could recover himself, Hildebrand had raised hispistol, and they now, to a certain extent, stood almost on anequality. Hildebrand knew that, in this situation, a great dealwould depend on having the first shot, and that that alone couldsave him. Pausing only to push back his companion, he steadiedhis aim, and fired.
The alguazil fired almost at the same instant. The youngSpaniard, whom Hildebrand had just before pushed under cover,heard both the reports at once, and watched for the result withthe most intense terror. To his great joy, Hildebrand, when thesmoke passed away, appeared wholly unhurt; but a heavy fall inthe chamber, following the last report, intimated that suchwas not the case with his adversary. The flash of Hildebrand’spistol, which his eager eyes instantly detected, had shakenthe alguazil’s aim, and his charge passed harmlessly overHildebrand’s shoulder. Before he could observe its effect, hereceived Hildebrand’s charge in the centre of his forehead, andfell to the floor a corpse.
The report of the fire-arms, which the prevailing silence carrieda good distance, raised an alarum throughout the gaol, and voicesand footsteps were heard in every direction. The fugitives hadnot a moment to spare; for the door, if it happened to be locked,might still cut off their retreat, and, in any case, presented anobstacle not to be trifled with.
The young Spaniard, who had recently displayed suchheroism, seemed to have lost his self-possession again, andstood perfectly still. Fortunately, however, Hildebrand’scharacteristic promptitude, which was unshaken, made up for hisinertness. Directly he saw the alguazil fall, he sprang towardsthe gaol-door; and gently drawing back his companion, who, in hisdistraction, had thrown himself right in his way, proceeded toexamine it.
The door was secured by two massy bolts, one at the bottom, andthe other at the top; and a lock, from the keyhole of which,attached to the key of the door, was suspended a bunch of largekeys. Hildebrand drew back the bolts in a moment, and, with thesame despatch, turned back the key, and pulled the door open.
The night, though not far advanced, was pitchy dark, and thuscalculated to cover their retreat. Although, however, it was sofar in their favour, it was not altogether propitious, inasmuchas the darkness prevented them from pursuing their way with thataccuracy that they would have done in the light. There were threeor four steps at the door, leading into the gaol-yard; and, ondarting out of the doorway, Hildebrand only escaped falling overthese steps, which he could not distinguish, by his prolongedspring. Thus held up, he alighted unhurt in the yard, and pushedforward amain.
The yard, after passing along the front of the gaol, turned alittle higher up, and continued its course along one of itssides. It was enclosed by a stone wall, about ten feet high; butat its further extremity, fronting the side of the gaol, therewas an iron gate, which it would not be difficult to scale.Hildebrand, though the internal structure of the gaol had escapedhis memory, remembered these particulars, and, having oncereached the yard, he made for the gate directly.
As he came to the corner of the gaol, where the yard turned alongthe side, he was about to wheel round, when he ran against a man,with his arms extended for action, who was approaching from theopposite quarter.
They both started back a few paces.
“Avast there, mate!” cried the stranger, in English. “What cheer?”
“Halyard!” exclaimed Hildebrand, recognising the voice of hischief mariner. “How camest thou here?”
“I came with the Don to the gate,” answered Halyard. “Hearingfire-arms, I guessed ye were making way; and so, not to misssport, came to lend a hand. The gate is open.”
“Where is our friend?” cried Hildebrand, looking round.
The young Spaniard, instead of being behind him, as he supposedhim to be, was nowhere visible. Though the din within the gaolwas now greatly heightened, and indicated that pursuit was closeupon them, Hildebrand, on ascertaining this, sprang back to thegaol-door, determined to perish rather than leave him behind.
On gaining the door, he found him lying on the steps. In thehurry of his egress, and the prevailing darkness, the steps hadescaped his observation, and, striding heedlessly forward, he hadfallen over them. Hildebrand, though concerned at his situation,did not pause to inquire how this had happened, but, without aword of greeting, caught him up in his arms, and thus proceededto carry him off.
They reached the gate without being interrupted. Halyard, who hadclosely followed Hildebrand, then led the way, and Hildebrandfollowed with the young cavalier.
After they had gone a short distance, the last-named personage,addressing Hildebrand, expressed a desire to be set on his feet,as he was perfectly able to pursue his way unaided. Hildebrand,who had caught him up with the impression that he was seriouslyhurt, instantly complied with his request; but, at the same time,declared that he would see him bestowed in safety, either at hisown residence, or that of Donna Inez, before he proceeded further.
“There is no safety here now,” answered the cavalier, in anagitated voice, “for either thee or me. I must with thee toEngland.”
Hildebrand was silent.
“Think not,” resumed the cavalier, with increased agitation,“that I would impose myself on thee at thy charge. I have left acasket on board thy ship, under care of thy lieutenant here, thatwill more than meet my expenditure. Howbeit, rather than put theeto trouble----”
“Prithee name it not, Senhor,” replied Hildebrand. “All that Ihave, to my very life, is thine, and shall be to the last. Gowith me, an’ thou wilt. But,” he added, in a lower tone, so asnot to be heard by Halyard, “shall we not see thy fair cousinfirst?”
“Dost thou so love her, then?” asked the cavalier. And Hildebrandthought that his small, soft hand, which he still held in his,trembled a little, and lost itself in his clasp.
“I would see her before we go,” Hildebrand answered; “for we maynever meet again.”
The cavalier drew back his hand.
“She will not see thee,” he said, hastily. “She hath given me abillet for thee, wherein, as I understood her, she so tells theeher mind. Wilt thou read it?”
Then, without raising his eyes, which for the last few minuteshad been fixed on the ground, he presented Hildebrand with asealed billet. The latter person eagerly accepted it, and, withan involuntary sigh, thrust it into his vest.
They had lingered behind during this brief dialogue. WhenHildebrand had disposed of the Donna’s note, he stepped forwardmore boldly, and they shortly came abreast of Halyard.
“Art thou making for the mole?” asked Hildebrand of that person.
“No, captain, but for the beach,” answered Halyard. “I have aboat off the beach, with muffled oars.”
“Muffled oars?” echoed Hildebrand.
“Faith, I forgot to tell thee, captain,” rejoined Halyard; “butthe Dons boarded us this morning. They seemed to be satisfied,after well overhauling us, that we were Scots; but, since then,we have a great gun-boat anchored alongside of us, and I doubtnot are closely watched.”
“An’ the moon rise not quickly,” observed Hildebrand, “we maybaffle them.”
Halyard, whether because he was of a different opinion, or thathe conceived his sentiments to be unimportant, made no reply,and they pursued their way in silence. After a sh
ort interval,they came to the water-side, and passed directly to the beach.
Not a person was about, and the dark hulls of the shipping,scattered here and there over the water, at various distances,were the only objects that could be distinguished. Afterprogressing for a few minutes, however, the quick eyes of thetwo Englishmen, used to maritime observation, discerned the lessstriking outline of their boat. It was lying afloat, a length ortwo out from the beach, with its oars--whether as a precautionagainst surprise, or for some less obvious purpose--shipped forservice, and its coxswain stationed ready at the rudder.
A shrill whistle from Halyard, with a cry of “Boat ahoy!” utteredin a low but distinct tone, reached the coxswain’s ears, and theboat was instantly shot up to the beach. Halyard and Hildebrand,as by a preconcerted arrangement, hereupon stepped on one side,with the view of allowing the young Spaniard to pass in first;but that person, by a negative inclination of his head, declinedthe precedence, and waved them foremost.
While, in compliance with his wish, they were stepping into theboat, the young cavalier turned round from the water, and glancedearnestly over the indistinct lines of the city. It was hisnative place; and though, if truly viewed, it might hold none whohad any claim on his affections, there habit must have fixed histhoughts, and early associations have rooted his ambition.
Whatever were the ties that connected him with home, there wassomething singularly distressing, to a sensitive mind, in theprospect opened by their dismission. He was about to startinto the wide world--to discard the dearest impressions ofnature--to relinquish country, kindred, and birthright, and totrust himself, wholly and unreservedly, to the protection andcompanionship of strangers. How might not the confidence hereposed in those persons be abused! National prejudice, and, whatwas more influential, his religion, held them to be enemies; theyhad been stigmatised as spies; they might be pirates. His lipquivered--probably with hesitation--as the thought occurred tohim, and his noble bosom, which for his years displayed uncommonvolume, heaved sensibly.
But his indecision was only momentary. The feelings, whateverthey were, that had first led him to associate himself withHildebrand, then revived, and all his involuntary apprehensionssubsided. Instead of looking on him as a national enemy, heregarded him only as one of a marked race, who, by their daringand genius, stood out in relief from the rest of the world, thelords and leaders of all mankind.
Hildebrand, with that instinctive apprehension which belongsexclusively to refined minds, readily divined what was passingin the cavalier’s bosom; and though, out of regard for theirmutual safety, anxious to proceed, did not offer to bring hismeditation to a close. Thus left to himself, the cavalier, as ifunmindful of their situation, lingered on the shore for severalminutes, and took the final step of entering the boat at his ownunbiassed prompture.
END OF VOL. I.
London: HENRY RICHARDS, Brydges-street, Covent-garden.
Transcriber’s Notes:
There are two Chapter IV’s. The chapters were not renumbered.
Spelling and hyphenation (including inconsistent hyphenation)consistent with the period were retained.
Added punctuation and quotation marks missed in printing.
Changed “his” to “his” on page 52. (His thoughts as our thoughts)
Added missing “s” in “his”, on page 76. (Sir Edgar and his family)
Changed “prerarations” to “preparations” on page 125. (bustleattending the preparations)
Changed “acconnt” to “account” on page 276. (There was a longaccount)
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