Frank Fairlegh

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[Illustration: page457 The Retribution]

Simultaneously with the report, the mare plunged madly forward, reared
up till she stood almost erect, pawed the air wildly with her fore-feet,
and then dropped heavily backwards, bearing her rider with her, and
crushing him as she fell. The ball had entered behind the ear, and
passing in an oblique direction through the brain, had produced instant
death. Without waiting to ascertain the effect of his shot, Cumberland
again compelled the postboys to proceed, and by the time the groom
reached the scene of action the carriage was rapidly getting out of
sight. The servant being unable to extricate his master from the fallen
horse, was about to ride off for assistance, when some labourers,
attracted by the report of the pistol, had come up, and by their united
efforts had succeeded in freeing the sufferer, but only, as it seemed,
to die from the serious nature of the injuries he had sustained.

"Umph! eh!--the man's a dead man, or next door to it," exclaimed
Mr. Frampton, who had joined me while the groom was giving the above
recital. "Nevertheless, we must do what we can for him, scoundrel as he
is. How's a doctor to be obtained. Umph?"

"Where does the nearest surgeon live?" asked I.

"There ain't none nearer than M----" was the reply, naming the town
through which we had passed.

"I must leave you to settle this matter," continued I; "too much time
has already been lost for me to attempt to overtake Cumberland with
the carriage; I must follow them on horseback. Take off the leaders and
shift the saddle on to the led horse; he seems the freshest."

"Umph! go and get shot, like the wretched man here," put in Mr.
Frampton. "You shan't do it, Frank."

"With his fate before me, I will be careful, sir," replied I; "but think
of Clara in the power of that villain! Your niece must be rescued at all
hazards; still, even for her sake, I will be cautious.--Is that horse
ready?"

"If you please, sir," said one of the postilions, a quick, intelligent
lad, who, while we were speaking, had removed the saddle from the dead
mare to the back of the off leader, "if you will take me with you, I
can show you how to stop them." He then explained, that about five miles
farther on there was a turnpike at the top of a long hill, which a heavy
carriage must ascend slowly, and that ~458~~ he knew a short cut across
some fields, by means of which, if we made the best of our way, we might
reach the turnpike in time to close the gate before those of whom
we were in pursuit should arrive. This plan appeared so sensible and
comparatively easy of execution, that even Mr. Frampton could offer no
objection to it, and, mounting our horses, we again resumed the chase.

And now, for the first time since I had heard of Clara's abduction, did
I at all recover my self-command, or venture to hope the affair would be
brought to a favourable issue. But the change from inaction to vigorous
exertion, and the refreshing sensation of the cool air as it whistled
round my throbbing temples, tended to restore the elasticity of my
spirits, and I felt equal to any emergency that might arise. After
following the high road for about a mile, we turned down a lane on the
right, and leaving this when we had proceeded about half a mile farther,
we entered a large grass field, which we dashed over in gallant style,
and making our way across sundry other fields, and over, through, and
into (for the post-horses, though not by any means despicable cattle in
their degree, were scarcely calculated for such a sudden burst across
country as that to which we were treating them) the respective hedges
and ditches by which they were divided, we regained the high road, after
a rattling twenty minutes' gallop. The point at which we emerged was
just at the top of a very steep hill, up which the road wound in a
serpentine direction.

"Are we before them, do you think?" inquired I of my companion, as we
reined in our panting steeds.

"I'm sure as we must be, sir, by the pace we've come. I didn't think
the old 'osses had it in 'em; but you does ride slap hup, sir, and no
mistake--pity as you ain't on the road, your honour."

"If I pass behind those larch trees," asked I, smiling at the postboy's
compliment, "I can see down the hill without being seen, can I not?"

His reply being in the affirmative, I advanced to the spot I had
indicated, and, to my delight, perceived a carriage and four making
its way up the hill with as great rapidity as the nature of the ground
rendered possible. Turning my horse's head, I rejoined my companion, and
we rode on to the turnpike.

Half a dozen words served to convey my wishes to the turnpike-man,
as many shillings rendered him my firm friend, and half the number of
minutes sufficed to close and effectually bolt and bar the gate.

~459~~ The postboy having by my orders tied up the horses to a rail on
the other side of the gate, we all three entered the turnpike-house,
where, with breathless impatience, I awaited the arrival of the
carriage. In less time than even I had imagined possible, the sound of
horses' feet, combined with the rattle of wheels, and the shouting of
the drivers, when they perceived the gate was shut, gave notice of their
approach.

"Wait," exclaimed I, laying my hand on the boy's arm to restrain his
impetuosity, "wait till they pull up, and then follow me, both of
you; but do not interfere unless you see me attacked, and likely to be
overpowered."

As I spoke, the horses were cheeked so suddenly as to throw them
on their haunches, and, amidst a volley of oaths at the supposed
inattention of the turnpike-man, one of the party (in whose coarse
bloated features and corpulent figure I at once recognised my
_ci-devant_ acquaintance of the billiard-room, Captain Spicer) jumped
down to open the gate. This was the moment I had waited for, and
bounding forward, followed by my satellites, I sprang to the side of the
carriage. A cry of joy from Clara announced that I was recognised,
and with an eager hand she endeavoured to let down the glass, but was
prevented by Cumberland, who was seated on the side nearest the spot
where-! was standing. In an instant my resolution was taken: wrenching
open the carriage door, and flinging down the steps, I sprang upon him,
and seizing him by the coat-collar before he had time to draw a pistol,
I dragged him out head foremost, an I, giving way to an ungovernable
impulse of rage, shook him till I could hear all the teeth rattle in
his head, and threw him from me with such violence that he staggered and
fell. In another moment Clara was in my arms.

[Illustration: page459 The Rescue]

"Clara, dearest! my own love!" whispered I, as, shedding tears of joy,
she rested her head upon my shoulder, "what happiness to have saved
you!"

There are moments when feeling renders us eloquent, when the full heart
pours forth its riches in eager and impassioned words; but there are
other times, and this was one of them, when language is powerless to
express the deep emotion of the soul, and our only refuge is in silence.
Clara was the first to speak.

"Frank--tell me--what has become of Mr. Fleming--the pistol-shot--that
maddened plunging horse--I am sure something dreadful has happened."

"He is indeed severely injured by the fall," replied I, wishing the
truth to break upon her by degrees; "but ~460~ I was unable to remain to
learn a surgeon's opinion--and this reminds me that I have still a duty
to perform; Cumberland must be detained to answer for his share in this
transaction;" and leading Clara to a bench outside the turnpike-house, I
proceeded to put my intentions into practice.

But whilst I had been thus engrossed, affairs had assumed a somewhat
different aspect. The turnpike-man was actively engaged in a pugilistic
contest with Captain Spicer, who, on his attempting to lay hands on
him, had shown fight, and was punishing his adversary pretty severely.
Cumberland's quick eye had perceived the horses the moment he had
regained his feet, and when he saw that I was fully occupied, he had
determined to seize the opportunity for effecting his escape. Springing
over the gate, he untied one of the horses, and striking down the boy
who attempted to prevent him, rode away at a gallop, at the moment I
reappeared upon the scene; while the second horse, after struggling
violently to free itself, had snapped the bridle and dashed off in
pursuit of its retreating companion. This being the case, it was useless
to attempt to follow him; and not altogether sorry that circumstances
had rendered it impossible for me to be his captor, I turned to assist
my ally, the turnpike-man, who, to use the language of the "Chicken,"
immortalised by Dickens, appeared in the act of being "gone into and
finished" by the redoubtable Captain Spicer. Not wishing to have my
facial development disfigured by the addition of a black eye, however, I
watched my opportunity, and springing aside to avoid the blow with which
he greeted me, succeeded in inserting my fingers within the folds of
his neckcloth, after which I had little difficulty in choking him into
a state of incapacity, when he submitted to the indignity of having his
hands tied behind him, and was induced to resume his seat in the rumble
as a prisoner, till such time as I should learn Mr. Framp-ton's opinion
as to the fittest manner of disposing of him. I then replaced Clara
in the carriage, which by my orders had turned round, rewarded the
turnpike-man, as well as the boy to whose forethought and able guidance
I was mainly indebted for my success, and taking my seat beside my
prisoner, we started on our return.

One naturally feels a certain degree of awkwardness in attempting to
make conversation to a man, whom only five minutes before one has nearly
succeeded in strangling, however thoroughly the discipline may have been
deserved--and yet silence is worse; at least I found it so; and ~461~~
after clearing my throat once or twice, as if I had been the person
half-throttled rather than the throttler, I began:--

"It is some years since we have met, Captain Spicer".

The individual thus addressed turned round quickly as I spoke, and
favoured me with a scrutinising glance--it was evident he did not
recognise me.

"Have you forgotten the billiard-room in F---- Street, and the way
in which your pupil and associate, Mr. Cumberland, cheated my friend
Oaklands?"

The captain, on having this somewhat unpleasant reminiscence of bygone
hours forced upon him, turned--I was going to say pale, but that was an
impossibility--rather less red than usual ere he replied:--

"I beg pardon, Mr. Fairlegh, but I'd quite forgotten you, sir; 'pon my
conscience I had. Ah, that was a foolish piece of business, sir; but Mr.
Cumberland, he always was a bad un."

"The man who encouraged and assisted him, not to mention working on his
fears and godding him to desperation, is scarcely the person to blame
him," replied I sternly.

"Ah! you don't know all, sir; he was a precious sight worse than you're
awake to yet, Mr. Fairlegh. I could tell you things that would surprise
you; and if I thought that you would save yourself the trouble of taking
me any farther than M----, which is, I believe, the nearest place
where I can pick up a coach to London, I don't know that I should mind
explaining matters a bit. What do you say, sir? you are lawyer enough
to know that you can't do anything to me for this morning's work, I dare
say."

"I am not so certain of that," replied I; "abduction and manslaughter
are legal offences, I believe."

"I had nothing to do with the last job," was the reply; "I could not
have prevented Cumberland shooting the mare if my own brother had been
riding her."

This I believed to be true, and I was far from certain that, although
morally guilty, Captain Spicer had committed any offence for which he
could be punished by law; moreover, as he had been a good deal knocked
about in his conflict with the turnpike-man, and I had more than
half-strangled him with my own hands, I felt leniently disposed towards
him. I therefore replied:--

"Tell me, truly and honestly, supposing you can for once contrive to
do so, all you know about this business; and if, as I imagine, you have
only been the tool of others ~462~~ in the affair, it is possible my
friend, Mr. Frampton, may be induced to let you off ".

Upon this hint, the captain having prevailed upon me to remove his
extempore handcuffs, and passed his word not to attempt escape,
proceeded to give me the following particulars:--

About a year or so before he had acted in some mysterious capacity at a
gambling-house, of which Cumberland was part proprietor, and which
was one of Wilford's favourite resorts. The debts which, as a boy,
Cumberland had begun to contract, had increased till he became deeply
involved; and after availing himself of every kind of subterfuge
to postpone the evil day, was on the point of being arrested by his
principal creditor, a money-lender, to whom he owed seven hundred and
fifty pounds. Shortly before the day on which he had promised to meet
the demand, Spicer, getting a cheque cashed at a banker's in the city,
was present when an agent of Wilford's paid in to his account two
thousand pounds, which circumstance he mentioned to Cumberland. That
evening Cumberland induced Wilford to play picquet; they played high,
but fortune varied, and at the end of the game Cumberland rose a winner
of eighty pounds, for which Wilford wrote him a cheque. On examining his
banker's book shortly afterwards, Wilford discovered that a cheque for
eight hundred pounds had been presented and duly honoured, which proved,
on minute inspection, to be the cheque written for Cumberland, and of
course a forgery. For reasons of his own, one of which no doubt was to
obtain absolute power over Cumberland, Wilford refused to prosecute.
When, some months after this transaction, Spicer was summoned to assist
in carrying off Clara, Cumberland sought him out, told him that he had a
scheme to frustrate Wilford and gain possession of Clara, and proved to
him that he had by some means obtained five thousand pounds in specie,
of which he offered him one thousand pounds if he would assist him, his
object being to escape to America, and live there upon Clara's fortune.
Captain Spicer, tempted by the magnitude of the sum mentioned, aware
that his character was too well known in London to render that city a
desirable place of residence, and having a strong idea that he could
turn his talents to account among the Yankees, stipulated that, in
addition to the sum proposed, Cumberland should pay his passage out, and
agreed to the plan. The further details of the plot have been already
partially explained. Aware of Wilford's predilection for keeping up
appearances, and ~463~~ conducting his intrigues with so much cunning
as in many instances to divert suspicion into some other channel,
Cumberland sought him out, and telling him that he had observed his
passion for Clara, professed that her money was his only object, spoke
of his desire to reside in America, and wound up by offering, if Wilford
would give up the forged paper, and agree to allow him a certain sum
quarterly out of Clara's fortune, to run off with her, and hand her over
to him. To this Wilford, relying on Spicer, and determining to retain
the forged cheque as a guarantee for Cumberland's fidelity until Clara
was placed in the hands of Hardman, agreed. With the results of this
arrangement the reader is already acquainted.

As my disreputable companion came to the end of his recital we drove up
to the door of the principal inn of the little town of M----.

CHAPTER THE LAST -- WOO'D AND MARRIED AND A'

"''Tis a strange compact, still I see no better,
So by your leave we'll sit and write this letter."
_Ye Merrie Bacheloure_.

"The ancient saying is no heresy,
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny."
_Merchant of Venice_.

THE heart of the wandering Swiss bounds within him at the sound of the
"_Ranz des Vaches_,"--dear to the German exile are the soul-stirring
melodies of his fatherland; but never did the ear of German or of Swiss
drink in with greater delight the music that his spirit loved than did
mine the transport of grunting by which Mr. Frampton welcomed his niece,
the daughter of his childhood's friend, his fondly remembered sister.

"Umph! eh! so you've let that rascal Cumberland slip through your
fingers, Master Frank? Umph! stupid boy, stupid. I wanted to have him
hanged."

"I am afraid, sir, the law would scarcely have sanctioned such a
proceeding."

"Umph! why not, why not? He richly deserved it, the scoundrel--daring
to run off with my niece. Dear child! she's as like her poor-umph--umph!
the Elliots were always reckoned a handsome race. What are you laughing
at, you conceited puppy? It's my belief that ~464~~ when I was your
age I was a great deal better looking fellow than you are. Some
people admire a snub nose; there was the Begum of Cuddleakee, splendid
woman--Well, what do you want, sir, eh?"

The last words were addressed to Captain Spicer, to whom (as since our
late truce he had become all amiability) I had entrusted the commission
of ascertaining Wilford's state, and who now appeared at the door, and
beckoned me out of the room.

"I shall be with you again immediately," said I, rising; and, replying
to Clara's anxious glance by a smile and a pressure of the hand, I
hastened to obey the summons.

"Wilford is in a sad state, Mr. Fairlegh," he began, as I closed the
door behind me; "dreadful, 'pon my life, sir; but here's the surgeon,
you'd better speak to him yourself."

In a little ante-room adjoining the chamber to which Wilford had been
conveyed, I found the surgeon, who seemed an intelligent and gentlemanly
person. He informed me that his patient had not many hours to live;
the wound in the head was not mortal, but the spine had received severe
injuries, and his lower extremities were already paralysed; he inquired
whether I was acquainted with any of his relations; adding, that they
ought to be sent for without a minute's delay.

"Really I am not," replied I; "I never was at all intimate with him; but
I have heard, that even with those whom he admitted to his friendship,
he was strangely reserved on such subjects."

"Better question the servant," suggested the surgeon; "the patient
himself is quite incapable of giving us any information; the concussion
has affected the brain, and he is now delirious."

The only information to be gained by this means was, that the servant
believed his master had no relations in England; he had heard that he
had been brought up in Italy, and therefore imagined that his family
resided there; he was able, however, to tell the name of his man of
business in London, and a messenger was immediately despatched to summon
him. Having done this, at the surgeon's request I accompanied him to the
chamber of the sufferer.

As we entered, Wilford was lying in bed supported by pillows, with his
eyes half shut, apparently in a state of stupor; but the sound of our
footsteps aroused him, and opening his eyes, he raised his head and
stared wildly ~465~~ about him. His appearance, as he did so, was
ghastly in the extreme. His beautiful black hair had been shorn away
at the temples to permit his wound to be dressed, and his head was
enveloped in bandages, stained in many places with blood; his face was
pale as death, save a bright hectic spot in the centre of each cheek,
fatal evidence of the inward fever which was consuming him. His
classical features, already pinched and shrunken, their paleness
enhanced by contrast with his black whiskers, were fixed and rigid
as those of a corpse; while his eyes, which burned with an unnatural
brilliancy, glared on us with an expression of mingled hate and terror.
He seemed partially to recognise me, for, after watching me for a
moment, his lips working convulsively, as if striving to form articulate
sounds, he exclaimed in a low hoarse voice:--

"Ha! on the scent already! The staid sober lover--let him take care the
pretty Clara does not jilt him. _I_ know where she is?--not I--that's a
question you must demand of Mr. Cumberland, sir. I beg your pardon,
did you say you doubted my word?--I have the honour to wish you
good-morning--my friend will call upon you. What! Lizzy Maurice! who
dares to say I wronged her?--'tis false. Take that old man away, with
his grey hair--why does he torment me?--I tell you the girl's safe,
thanks to--to--my head's confused--the 'long man,' as Curtis calls him,
Harry Oaklands, handsome Harry Oak-lands. What did I hear you
mutter? that he horsewhipped me?--and if he did, there was a day of
retribution--ha! ha!--Sir, I shot him for it; shot him like a dog--I
hated him, and he perished--the strong man died--died! and what
then?--what becomes of dead men? A long-faced fool said I was dying,
just now--he thought I didn't hear him--I not hear an insult! and I
consider that one--I'll have him out for it--I'll"--and he endeavoured
to raise himself, but was scarcely able to lift his head from the
pillow, and sank back with a groan of anguish. After a moment he spoke
again, in a low, plaintive voice, "I am very ill, very weak--send for
her--she will come--oh yes, she will come, for she loves me; she knows
my fiery nature--knows my vices, as men call them, and yet she loves
me--the only one who ever did--send for her--she will come, it is her
son who wishes for her". Then, in a tone of the fondest endearment he
continued, "_Lucia, bella madre, il tuo figlio tia chiama_".

"He has been speaking Italian for some time," observed the surgeon in a
whisper.

~466~~ "That man Spicer told me he thought he was of Italian
extraction," replied I.

Low as were our voices, the quick ear of the sufferer caught the name I
had mentioned.

"Spicer," he exclaimed eagerly; "has he returned? Well, man, speak! is
she safely lodged? Cumberland has done his part admirably then. Oh!
it was a grand scheme!--Ha! played me false--I'll not believe it--he
_dares_ not--he knows me--knows I should dog him like his shadow till
we met face to face, and I had torn his false heart out of his dastardly
breast. I say he dares not do it!" and yelling out a fearful oath, he
fell back in a fainting fit.

Let us draw a veil over the remainder of the scene. The death-bed of the
wicked is a horrible lesson, stamped indelibly on the memory of all
who have witnessed it. Happy are they whose pure hearts need not such
fearful training; and far be it from me to dim the brightness of their
guileless spirits by acquainting them with its harrowing details.

Shortly after the scene I have described, internal hemorrhage commenced;
ere another hour had elapsed the struggle was over, and a crushed and
lifeless corpse, watched by hirelings, wept over by none, was all that
remained on earth of the man whom society courted while it feared,
and bowed to while it despised--the successful libertine, the dreaded
duellist, Wilford! I learned some time afterwards that his father had
been an English nobleman, his mother an Italian lady of good family.
Their marriage had been private, and performed only according to the
rites of the Romish Church, although the earl was a Protestant. Availing
himself of this omission, on his return to England he pretended to
doubt the validity of the contract, and having the proofs in his own
possession, contrived to set the marriage aside, and wedded a lady of
rank in this country. Lucia Savelli, the victim of his perfidy, remained
in Italy, devoting herself to the education of her son, whom she
destined for the Romish priesthood. Her plans were, however, frustrated
by the information that the earl had died suddenly, leaving a large
fortune to the boy, on condition that he never attempted to urge his
claim to the title, and finished his education in England. With his
subsequent career the reader is sufficiently acquainted. On hearing
of her son's melancholy fate, Lucia Savelli, to whom the whole of his
fortune was bequeathed, retired to a convent, which she endowed with her
wealth.

~467~~ As Barstone was out of our way from M----to Heath-field, and
as Clara was too much overcome by all she had gone through to bear
any further agitation, we determined to proceed at once to my mother's
cottage, and despatched Peter Barnett to inform Mr. Vernor of the events
of the day, and communicate to him Mr. Frampton's resolution to leave
him in undisturbed possession of Barstone, for a period sufficiently
long to enable him to wind up all his affairs and seek another
residence.

The return to Heathfield Cottage I shall not attempt to describe.
Clara's tears, smiles and blushes--Fanny's tender and affectionate
solicitude--my mother's delighted, but somewhat fussy, hospitality--and
my own sensations, which were an agreeable compound of those of every
one else--each and all were perfect in their respective ways. But the
_creme de la creme_, the essence of the whole affair, that on which the
tongue of the poet and the pen of the romance-writer must alike rejoice
to expatiate, was the conduct of Mr. Frampton; how he was seized, at
one and the same moment, with two separate, irresistible, and apparently
incompatible manias, one for kissing everybody, and the other
for lifting and transporting (under the idea that he was thereby
facilitating the family arrangements) bulky and inappropriate articles
which no one required, all of which he deposited, with an air composed
of equal parts of cheerful alacrity and indomitable perseverance, in
the drawing-room, grunting the whole time as man never grunted before;
a wild and unlooked-for course of proceeding which reduced my mother
to the borders of insanity. Finding that argument was not of the least
avail in checking his rash career, I seized him by the arm, just as he
was about to establish on my sister's work-table a large carpet-bag and
an umbrella, which had accompanied him through the adventures of the
day, and, dragging him off to his own room, forced him to begin to
prepare for dinner, while I turned a deaf ear to his remonstrance, that
"It was quite absurd to--umph! umph!--prevent him from making himself
useful, when there was so much to be done in the house. Umph!" Having
promulgated this opinion, he shook me by the hand till my arm ached,
and, declaring that he was the happiest old man in the world, sat down
and cried like a child.