However, except for the restraint, they had no reason to complain oftheir treatment. A pint of wine was brought them, with which theyregaled themselves, and after drinking a couple of glasses, Tom, whohad become rather downcast, felt his spirits considerably revive.
Knocking at the door, he called out to the porter, "I say, friend, ifnot against rules, I should very much like a pipe."
The porter being a good-natured fellow said he would see about it, andpresently returned with a pipe and a paper of tobacco. His wants beingthus supplied, Tom sat down and smoked away very comfortably.
Atherton paid very little attention to him. Truth to say, he wasthinking of Constance Rawcliffe.
Rather more than an hour had elapsed, and Mr. Sharrocks was expectingan answer from the boroughreeve, when he heard a tumultuous sound inthe lane, already described as leading from the top of Deansgate tothe quay.
Alarmed by this noise, he hurried to the great gate, which he hadpreviously ordered to be closed, and looking out, perceived a mob,consisting of some three or four hundred persons, hurrying towards thespot.
If he had any doubt as to their intentions it would have beendispelled by hearing that their cry was "Tom Syddall!" Evidently theywere coming to liberate the brave barber.
Hastily shutting and barring the gate, and ordering the porters toguard it, he flew to the room in which Tom and his companion wereconfined, and found the one tranquilly smoking his pipe, as we haverelated, and the other seated in a chair opposite him, and plunged ina reverie.
"Well, Sharrocks," said Tom, blowing a whiff from his mouth, andlooking up quietly at him, "have you come to say that the boroughreevehas ordered us to be clapped in prison? ha!"
"I have come to set you free, gentlemen," said the wharf-master,blandly. "You are quite at liberty to depart."
"Ho! ho!" cried Tom. "You have altered your tone, methinks,Sharrocks."
"I am in no hurry," said Atherton. "I am quite comfortable here."
"But you _must_, and _shall_ go," cried Sharrocks.
"Must! and shall!" echoed Atherton. "Suppose we refuse to stir!--whatthen?"
"Yes, what then, Sharrocks?" said Tom, replacing the pipe in hismouth.
The wharf-master was about to make an angry rejoinder, when a loudnoise outside convinced him that the porters had yielded to the mob,and thrown open the gates.
"Zounds! they have got into the yard!" he exclaimed.
"Who have got in?" cried Atherton, springing to his feet.
"Your friends, the mob," replied Sharrocks.
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Syddall, jumping up likewise, and waving his pipeover his head. "I knew the people would come to release us. Hurrah!hurrah!"
Almost frantic with delight, he ran out into the yard, followed byAtherton--Sharrocks bringing up the rear.
Already the yard was half-full of people, most of whom were gatheredthickly in front of the storehouse, and the moment they perceived TomSyddall and Atherton, they set up a tremendous shout.
But Tom was their especial favourite. Those nearest placed him on thetop of an empty cask, so that he could be seen by the wholeassemblage, and in reply to their prolonged cheers, he thanked themheartily for coming to deliver him and his companion, telling themthey would soon see the prince in Manchester, and bidding them, inconclusion, shout for King James the Third and Charles, PrinceRegent--setting them the example himself.
While the yard was ringing with treasonable shouts and outcries, Tomquitted his post, but he soon reappeared. He had made his way to theupper room of the building, from the window of which the obnoxiousflag was displayed. Hauling it down, he tore off the silken banner insight of the crowd, and replacing it with a white handkerchief,brought down the rebel flag he had thus improvised, and gave it to oneof the spectators, who carried it about in triumph.
Hitherto the mob had behaved peaceably enough, but they now grewrather disorderly, and some of them declared they would not go awayempty-handed.
Fearing they might plunder the store-house, which was full of goods ofvarious kinds, Sharrocks came up to Tom Syddall and besought him touse his influence with them to depart peaceably.
"I'll try what I can do, Sharrocks," replied Tom. "Though you madesome uncalled-for observations upon me just now, I don't bear anymalice."
"I'm very sorry for what I said, Mr. Syddall," rejoined thewharf-master, apologetically--"very sorry, indeed."
"Enough. I can afford to be magnanimous, Sharrocks. I forgive theremarks. But you will find you were wrong, sir--you will find that I_shall_ avenge my father."
"I have no doubt of it, Mr. Syddall," rejoined Sharrocks. "But in themeantime, save the storehouse from plunder, and you shall have my goodword with the boroughreeve."
"I don't want your good word, Sharrocks," said Tom, disdainfully.
With Atherton's assistance he then once more mounted the cask, and thecrowd seeing he was about to address them became silent.
"I have a few words to say to you, my friends," he cried, in a voicethat all could hear. "Don't spoil the good work you have done bycommitting any excesses. Don't let the Hanoverians and Presbyterianshave the power of casting reproach upon us. Don't disgrace the goodcause. Our royal prince shoots every Highlander who pillages. He won'tshoot any of you, but he'll think better of you if you abstain fromplunder."
The commencement of this address was received with some murmurs, butthese ceased as the speaker went on, and at the close he was loudlycheered, and it was evident from their altered demeanour that thecrowd intended to follow his advice.
"I am glad to find you mean to behave like good Jacobites and honestmen. Now let us go home quietly, and unless we're assaulted we won'tbreak the peace."
"We'll carry you home safely," shouted several of the bystanders. "Achair! a chair! Give us a chair!"
These demands were promptly complied with by Sharrocks, who broughtout a large arm-chair, in which Tom being installed, was immediatelyhoisted aloft by four sturdy individuals.
Thus placed, he bowed right and left, in acknowledgement of the cheersof the assemblage.
Not wishing to take a prominent part in these proceedings, Athertonhad kept aloof, but he now came up to Syddall, and shaking hands withhim, told him in a whisper that he might expect to see him at night.
The brave little Jacobite barber was then borne off in triumph,surrounded by his friends--a tall man marching before him carrying thewhite flag.
The procession took its way up the lane to Deansgate, along whichthoroughfare it slowly moved, its numbers continually increasing as itwent on, while the windows of the houses were thronged withspectators.
Thus triumphantly was Tom conveyed to his dwelling. Throughout thewhole route no molestation was offered him--the magistrates prudentlyabstaining from further interference.
Before quitting him, the crowd promised to come to his succour shouldany attempt be made to arrest him.
Atherton did not join the procession, but took a totally differentroute.
Leaving the boat with the wharf-master, who volunteered to take careof it, he caused himself to be ferried across the river, and soonafterwards entered a path leading across the fields in the directionof Salford.
He walked along very slowly, being anxious to hold a littleself-communion; and stopped now and then to give free scope to hisreflections.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE MEETING IN THE GARDEN.
From these fields, the town, which was scarcely a mile distant, couldbe seen in its full extent. In saying "town," we include Salford, forno break in the continuity of the houses was distinguishable. Thebuildings on either side of the Irwell seemed massed together; and thebridge was entirely hidden.
It was not a very bright day--we must recollect it was November--butthe lights chanced to be favourable, and brought out certain objectsin a striking manner. For instance, the collegiate church, whichformed almost the central part of the picture, stood out in boldrelief, with its massive tower against a clear sky. A gleam ofsunshine fell upo
n St. Ann's Church and upon the modern buildings nearit, and Trinity Church in Salford was equally favoured. Other charmingeffects were produced, which excited the young man's admiration, andhe remained gazing for some time at the prospect. He then acceleratedhis pace, and soon reached the outskirts of Salford.
At the entrance of the main street stood Trinity Church, to which wehave just alluded--a modern pile of no great beauty, but possessing alofty tower ornamented with pinnacles, and surmounted by a shortspire. The row of houses on the right side of the street formedpleasant residences, for they had extensive gardens running down tothe banks of the river.
Opposite the church, but withdrawn from the street, stood anold-fashioned mansion with a garden in front, surrounded by highwalls. The place had a neglected air. Large gates of wrought iron,fashioned in various devices, opened upon the garden. Recollecting tohave heard that this old mansion was occupied by Mrs. Butler--Monica'smother and Constance's aunt--Atherton stopped to look at it, and whilepeering through the iron gates, he beheld Miss Rawcliffe herself inthe garden.
She was alone, and the impulse that prompted him to say a few words toher being too strong to be resisted, he opened the gates and went in.She had disappeared, but he found her seated in an arbour.
On beholding him she uttered a cry of surprise, and started up. For amoment the colour deserted her cheek, but the next instant a blushsucceeded.
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Atherton Legh," she said. "But how did youlearn I was here?"
"Accident has brought me hither," he replied. "While passing thegarden gates I chanced to see you, and ventured in. If I have been toobold, I will retire at once."
"Oh, no--pray stay! I am delighted to see you. But you are veryincautious to venture forth. You ought to keep in some place ofconcealment. However, let me offer you my meed of admiration. I waswonderstruck by your last gallant exploit."
"You helped me to accomplish it."
"_I_ helped you--how? I was merely a spectator."
"That was quite sufficient. I felt your eyes were upon me. I fancied Ihad your approval."
"I most heartily wished you success," she rejoined, again blushingdeeply. "But I think you are excessively rash. Suppose the caissonshad been fired, you would have been destroyed by the explosion."
"In that case I might have had your sympathy."
"Yes, but my sympathy would have been worth very little. It would nothave brought you to life."
"It would have made death easy."
"With such exalted sentiments, 'tis a pity you did not live in thedays of chivalry."
"If I had I would have maintained the peerless beauty of the dame Iworshipped against all comers."
"Now you are beginning to talk high-flown nonsense, so I must stopyou."
But she did not look offended.
Presently she added, "Do you desire to win distinction? Do you wish toplease me?"
"I desire to please you more than any one on earth, Miss Rawcliffe,"he rejoined, earnestly. "I will do whatever you ask me."
"Then join the prince. But no! I ought not to extort this pledge fromyou. Reflect! reflect!"
"No need of reflection. My decision is made. I will join theManchester Regiment."
"Then I will place the sash on your shoulder, and gird on your sword,"she said.
A fire seemed kindled in the young man's breast by these words.Casting an impassioned glance at the fair maiden, he prostratedhimself at her feet, and taking her hand, which she did not withhold,pressed it to his lips.
"I devote myself to you," he said, in a fervent tone.
"And to the good cause?" she cried.
"To the good cause," he rejoined. "But chiefly to you."
Before he could rise from his kneeling posture, Monica and JemmyDawson, who had come forth from the house, approached the arbour, butseeing how matters stood, they would have retired; but Constance, whodid not exhibit the slightest embarrassment, advanced to meet them.
CONSTANCE RAWCLIFFE GAINS A RECRUIT Page 78.]
"I have gained another recruit for the prince," she said.
"So I see," replied Monica. "His royal highness could not have abetter officer."
"I am sure not," said Jemmy Dawson.
And embracing his friend, he cried, "I longed for you as acompanion-in-arms, and my desire is gratified. We shall servetogether--conquer together--or die together. Whatever it may be,apparently our destiny will be the same."
"You are certain of a rich reward," said Atherton. "But I----"
"Live in hope," murmured Constance.
"Not till I have discovered the secret of my birth will I presume toask your hand," said the young man.
Constance thought of the packet confided to her by her father--of theletter she had read--and felt certain the mystery would be soonunravelled.
Just then Monica interposed.
"Pray come into the house, Mr. Atherton Legh," she said. "Mamma willbe much pleased to see you. We have been extolling you to the skies.She is a great invalid, and rarely leaves her room, but to-day, for awonder, she is downstairs."
Atherton did not require a second bidding, but went with them into thehouse.
CHAPTER XIX.
MRS. BUTLER.
In a large, gloomy-looking, plainly-furnished room might be seen amiddle-aged dame, who looked like the superior of a religioushouse--inasmuch as she wore a conventual robe of dark stuff, with aclose hood that fell over her shoulders, and a frontlet beneath itthat concealed her locks--blanched by sorrow more than age. From hergirdle hung a rosary. Her figure was thin almost to emaciation, but itwas hidden by her dress; her cheeks were pallid; her eyes deep sunk intheir sockets; but her profile still retained its delicacy andregularity of outline, and showed she must once have possessed rarebeauty. Her countenance wore a sweet, sad, resigned expression.
Mrs. Butler--for she it was--suffered from great debility, brought on,not merely by ill-health, but by frequent vigils and fasting. Sofeeble was she that she seldom moved beyond a small room, adjoiningher bed-chamber, which she used as an oratory; but on that day she hadbeen induced by her daughter to come down-stairs.
She was seated in a strong, oaken chair, destitute of a cushion, andpropped up by a pillow, which she deemed too great an indulgence, butwhich was absolutely requisite for her support. Her small feet--ofwhich she had once been vain--rested on a fauteuil. On a little tablebeside her lay a book of devotion.
On the opposite side of the fireplace sat a thin, dark-complexionedman, in age between fifty and sixty, whose black habiliments and fullpowdered wig did not indicate that he was a Romish priest. Such,however, was the case. He was Sir Richard Rawcliffe's confessor,Father Jerome. At the time when we discover them, the priest wasaddressing words of ghostly counsel to the lady, who was listeningattentively to his exhortations.
They were interrupted by the entrance of the party.
As Atherton was conducted towards her, Mrs. Butler essayed to rise,but being unequal to the effort, would have immediately sunk back ifher daughter had not supported her.
She seemed very much struck by the young man, and could not remove hergaze from him.
"Who is this, Monica?" she murmured.
"He is the young gentleman, mamma, of whose courage Constance has beenspeaking to you in such glowing terms--who so gallantly liberated SirRichard from arrest this morning, and subsequently preserved SalfordBridge from destruction. It is Mr. Atherton Legh. I felt sure youwould like to see him."
"You judged quite right, my dear," Mrs. Butler replied, in her soft,sweet accents. "I am very glad to see you, sir. Pardon my gazing atyou so fixedly. You bear a strong resemblance to one long sincedead--a near relation of my own. Do you not remark the likeness,father?" she added to the priest.
"Indeed, madam, I am much struck by it," replied Father Jerome.
"I am sure you mean my uncle, Sir Oswald," observed Constance.
"True. But as Mr. Legh has probably never heard of him, I did notmention his name."
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"I think you have a miniature of my uncle?" said Constance.
"I had one," returned Mrs. Butler. "But I know not what has become ofit."
"Strange! I never saw a portrait of him," remarked Constance. "Thereis not one at Rawcliffe. Nor is there a portrait of his beautifulwife, who did not long survive him."
"There you are mistaken, Miss Rawcliffe," observed Father Jerome."Portraits of both are in existence, for I myself have seen them. Butthey are locked up in a closet."
"Why should they be locked up?" cried Monica.
"Probably Sir Richard does not care to see them," said her mother,sighing deeply. "But let us change the subject. We are talking onfamily matters that can have no interest to Mr. Atherton Legh."
Atherton would have been pleased if more had been said on the subject,but he made no remark. Constance was lost in reflection. Many strangethoughts crossed her mind.
At this juncture Jemmy Dawson interposed.
"You will be glad to learn, madam," he said to Mrs. Butler, "that myfriend Atherton Legh has decided on joining the Manchester Regiment.Constance has the credit of gaining him as a recruit."
"That a young man of so much spirit as your friend should support thecause of the Stuarts cannot fail to be highly satisfactory to me, incommon with every zealous Jacobite," said Mrs. Butler. "May successattend you both! But it is for you, father, to bless them--not forme."
Thus enjoined, the two young men bent reverently before the priest,who, extending his hands over them, ejaculated fervently: