The Lady of Lynn

Molly laughed. "You think that I am afraid? Very well, sir. If you persist you shall have a lesson in love-making that will last your lifetime."

"Everything is fair in love. Come, madam, you will please to get out of the chair."

"What a villain is this!" said Molly. "He is in love with my fortune and he pretends it is my person. He thinks to steal my fortune when he runs away with me. You are a highwayman, Mr. Rising; a common thief and a common robber. You shall be hanged outside Norwich Gaol."

Tom Rising swore a great oath, calling, in his blasphemous way, upon the Lord to inflict dire pains and penalties upon him if he should resign the lovely object of his affection now in his possession. You have heard that he had the reputation of a reckless dare devil who stuck at nothing, was daunted by nothing, and was like a bulldog for his tenacity.

"Understand, madam," he concluded this declaration, "I am resolved to marry you. Resolved. Bear that in mind."

"And I, sir, am resolved that I will not marry you. Resolved. Bear that in mind."

"Never yet did I resolve upon anything but I had it. No; never yet."

"Mr. Rising, you think you have me in your power. You shall see. Once more I ask you, as a gentleman, to send me back. Remember I have many friends. The whole town, high and low, will be presently out after me. scouring the country."

"In an hour you will be at Wootton. The parson hath promised to await us there. You will be my wife in one short hour's time."

"You waste words, sir."

"You will have to alight, madam. The post-chaise is here to carry us to Wootton, where the parson waits to marry us. In an hour, I say, you shall be my wife."

Molly looked out of the other window. The post-chaise was there with its pair of horses, and the postboy waiting at the horses' heads. She would have to make her stand at once, therefore. To get into the post-chaise with that man would be dangerous, even though she was as strong as himself, and, since she was not a drinker of wine, she was in a better condition.

"I looked round at the house," she told me afterwards. "I thought that if I could get into the house I might gain some time – perhaps I could bar the door – perhaps I could find that griddle or the frying pan of which I spoke. Or if it came to using the bodkin, there would be more room for my arm in a house than in a chair or a chaise. So I had one more parley, in order to gain time, and then slipped out."

"Sir," she said, "I give you one more chance of retaining the name and reputation of gentleman. Carry me back, or else await the vengeance of my friends. I warn you solemnly that murder will be done before I marry you. Understand, sir, murder of you, or your confederates, or myself."

She spoke with so much calmness and with so much resolution that she aroused all his native obstinacy. Besides, it was now too late. The news of the abduction would be all over Lynn – he must carry the thing through. He swore another loud and blasphemous oath. Heavens! how he was punished! How swiftly and speedily!

Molly stepped out of the chair. Tom Rising, his hat in hand, again bowed low. "Madam," he said, "you are well advised. Pray let me hand you into the chaise."

She made no reply, but, rushing past him, darted into the house. She stumbled down one step and found herself in a room where the twilight outside could not penetrate. It was quite dark. She closed the door behind her and bolted it, finding a bolt in the usual place.

Then she waited a moment, thinking what she could do next. A rustling and a footstep showed that she was not alone.

"Who is there?" she cried. "Is there no light?"

She heard the striking of flint and steel; she saw the spluttering yellow light of a match, and by its flickering she discerned an old woman trying to light a candle – a rushlight in a tin frame, with holes at the sides.

Molly looked quietly round the room. A knife lay on the table. She took it up. It was one of the rough clasp knives, used by rustics when they eat their dinners under the hedge. She stepped forward and took the light from the old woman's hand.

"Quick!" she said, "who is in the house?"

"No one, except myself. He said the house was to be kept clear to-night."

"Can they get in?"

"They can kick the house down if they like, it's so old and crazy."

"Is there an upper room?"

The old woman pointed to the far corner. Molly now perceived that the place was the kitchen, the tap-room, the sitting-room, and all. A table was in the middle; a settle was standing beside the fireplace; there was a bench or two; mugs and cups of wood, pewter and common ware stood on the mantelshelf; a side of bacon hung in the chimney. In the corner, to which the old woman pointed, was a ladder. Molly ran across the room. At the top of the ladder there was a square opening large enough for her passage. She went up, and found herself, by the dim rushlight, in an upper chamber, the floor of which was covered with flock beds laid on the boards. There was one small frame of glass in the roof, which was not made to open. The place reeked with foul air, worse than the orlop deck or the hold after a voyage.

Down below she heard her captor kicking at the door. Apparently, the old woman drew back the bolt, for he came in noisily, swearing horribly. Apparently, the old woman pointed to the ladder, or perhaps the glimmer from the room above guided him. He came to the ladder and tried persuasion.

"Molly, my dear," he cried, "come down, come down. I won't harm you. Upon my honour I will not. I want only to put you into the chaise and carry you off to be married. Molly, you are the loveliest girl in the county. Molly, I say, there is nobody can hold a candle to you. Molly, I will make you as happy as the day is long. Molly, I love you ten times as well as that proud lord. He will not marry you. There isn't a man in all the company I will not fight for your sake. Don't think I will let any other man have you. Damn it, Molly, why don't you answer?"

For now she kept silence. The more he parleyed, the more time she gained. But she found one or two loose boards that had been used for laying in trestles for the support of the flock beds. She laid them across the trapdoor, but there was nothing to keep them down.

Then Tom Rising began to swear at the old woman.

"You fool! You blundering, silly, jenny ass of a fool. What the devil did you give her the candle for?"

"I didn't give it. She took it."

"Go, get another candle, then."

"There are no more candles, master," said the old woman in her feeble voice. "She's got the only one."

"Molly, if you won't come down I shall force my way up."

Still she kept silence.

He took two steps up the ladder and lifted the boards, showing the fingers of his left hand. Molly applied her knife, gently but dexterously; but it touched the bone, and taught him what to expect. He drew back with a cry of rage.

"Come down," he said, "or it will be worse for you. Come down, I say."

He had not reckoned on a knife and on the girl's courage in using it.

"Molly," he said again, more softly, "come down." She still maintained silence.

"You have no food up there," he went on. "Your window is only a light in the roof looking away from the road. No one from Lynn will come this way. If they do they will see nothing. You had better come down. Molly, I shall wait here for a month. I shall starve you out. Do you hear? By the Lord, I will set fire to the thatch and burn you out. By the Lord, you shall come down."

So he raved and raged. Meantime the two chairmen, who were his own servants, stood, pole in hand, one in front of the house and one behind, to prevent an escape. But this was impossible, because the room, as you have heard, had no other window than a small square opening in the roof, in which was fitted a piece of coarse, common glass.

"Jack," she told me, "when he talked of setting fire to the thatch I confess I trembled, because, you see, my knife would not help me there. And, indeed, I think he would have done it, because he was like one that has gone mad with rage. He was like a mad bull. He stormed, he raged, he cursed and swore; he called me all the names you ever heard of – such names as the sailors call their sweethearts when they are in a rage with them – and then he called me all the endearing names, such as loveliest of my sex, fairest nymph, tender beauty. What a man!"

Meantime she made no answer whatever, and the darkness and the silence and the obstinacy of the girl were driving the unfortunate lover to a kind of madness, and I know not what would have happened.

"Molly," he said, "willy nilly, down you come. I shall tear down the thatch. I would burn you out, but I would not spoil your beauty. I shall tear down the thatch, and my men shall carry you down."

Then Molly made answer.

"I have a knife in my possession. Do not think that I am afraid to use it. The first man who lays hands on me I will kill – whether it is you or your servants."

"That we shall see. Look ye, Molly, you are only a merchant's daughter, and I am a gentleman. Do you think I value that compared with marrying you? Not one whit. When we are married I will buy more land; I will be the greatest landowner of the whole county. Sir Robert will make me sheriff. I will go into Parliament, Molly; he will make me a peer. Come down, I say."

But she spoke no more.

Then he lost control of himself, and for a while stamped and swore, threatened and cursed. "You will have it, then? Here, John, go and look for a ladder. There's always a ladder in the back yard. Put it up against the thatch. Tear it down. Make a hole in the roof. Tear off the whole roof."

The man propped his chair pole against the door, and went round to look for the ladder and to obey orders.

"So," Molly told me, "I was besieged. Mr. Rising was below, but I had my knife, and he was afraid to venture up the steps. I heard the men clumping about outside. I heard them plant the ladder and climb up. Now a countryman who understands a thatch is able to tear it off very quickly, either to make or mend a hole, or to tear down the roof altogether. And I feared that I must use my knife seriously. Was ever woman more barbarously abused? Well – I waited. By the quick tearing away of the straw I saw that the fellow on the ladder knew how to thatch a rick or a cottage. In a few minutes there would be a hole big enough for half-a-dozen men to enter. Jack," her cheek flushed and her eye brightened. "God forgive me! But I made up my mind the moment that man stepped within the room to plunge my knife into his heart."

If a woman's honour is dearer than her life, then surely it is more precious than a dozen lives of those who would rob her of that treasure.

However, this last act of defence was not necessary.

"Master," cried the postboy, who was waiting with the chaise. "Master, here be men on horseback galloping. I doubt they are coming after the lady."

Tom Rising stepped to the door and looked down the road. The day was already beginning to break. He saw in the dim light a company of horsemen galloping along the road; it was a bad road, and there had been rain, so that the horses went heavily. They were very near; in a few moments they would be upon him. He looked at the chaise. He made one more effort.

"Molly," he said, "come down quick. There is just time. Let us have no more fooling."

Again she made no reply. Knife in hand, with crimson cheek and set lips, she watched the hole in the thatch and the man tearing it away.

Tom Rising swore again, most blasphemously. Then, seeing that the game was lost, he loosened his sword in its scabbard and stepped into the middle of the road.

CHAPTER XXIII

WHICH WAY TO FOLLOW?

I must admit that in the conduct of this affair Lord Fylingdale showed both coolness and resolution.

The news that the heiress of Lynn had been abducted spread immediately through the rooms; the whole company flocked to the doors, where Lord Fylingdale stood, calm and without passion, while beside him the old captain stamped and cursed the villains unknown.

He called Molly's chairmen. What had those fellows seen? They said that they were waiting by order; that another chair stood before them at the door, the bearers of which were strangers to them, a fact which at this crowded season occurred constantly; that a gentleman whose name they knew not, but whom they had seen in the streets and at the assembly, mostly drunk, had come out hastily and spoken to these chairmen; that his lordship himself had handed the lady into the chair and closed the doors, to their astonishment, because they were themselves waiting for the lady; and that the chair was carried off instantly, leaving them in bewilderment, not knowing what to do.

He asked them, next, for a closer description of the gentleman. He was young, it appeared; he was red in the face; he looked masterful; he cursed the chairmen in a very free and noble manner; one of the chairmen gave him his sword to wear, which is not permitted in the assembly; he was swearing all the time as if in great wrath.

"My lord," a gentleman interrupted, "the description fits Tom Rising."

"Has Mr. Rising been seen in the assembly this evening?"

"He was not only here, but he danced with the lady."

"Is he here now? Let some one look for Mr. Rising."

There was no need to look for him, because the rooms – even the card room – was now empty, all the people being crowded about the doors.

"Where does he lodge? Let some one go to his lodgings."

"With submission, my lord," said another. "It is not at his lodgings that he will be found. After the assembly, he goes to the 'Rose Tavern,' where he drinks all night."

"Let some one go to the 'Rose Tavern,' then, and quickly. Captain Crowle, we will go to the 'Crown' while inquiries are made. Gentlemen, there is great suspicion that an abominable crime hath been committed, and that this young lady hath been forcibly carried away for the sake of her fortune. I take blame to myself for not making sure that I was placing her in her own chair. This is my business. But I ask your help for the honour of the spa and the company."

A dozen gentlemen stepped forward and offered their help and their swords, if necessary. Among them was Colonel Lanyon.

"Come, then. Let us adjourn to the 'Crown' and make inquiries. Be of good cheer, captain. We will find out which way they took. If they have nothing but the chair to carry her away we can easily catch them up."

"I know my girl," said the captain. "It is not one man who can daunt her, nor will a dozen men force her to marry against her will. If they try there will be murder."

"If we cannot find the way they took, we must scour the country."

At the gates of the garden they learned that the keeper had seen the chair go out, and observed that it was closely followed by a gentleman whom he could only describe by his height, which was taller than the average. Now, Tom Rising was six feet at least.

At the "Crown," in Lord Fylingdale's room, they held a brief consultation, after which the gentlemen who had volunteered their help went out into the town to make inquiries.

In a few minutes they began to return. It was ascertained that Tom Rising was not at his lodging; nor was he at the "Rose Tavern"; nor could he be found at any of the taverns used by gentlemen; this strengthened the suspicion against him. Then one remembered the strange words of the Tuesday night, in which Tom Rising had promised his friends that he would, before the week was done, be the richest man in the county; rich enough to play with them until he had stripped every man as bare as Adam. Those words were taken as mere drunken ravings. But now they seemed to have had a meaning. Where was Tom Rising?

Another discovery was that of the two men belonging to the chair in which Molly was carried off. They were found in one of the low taverns by the riverside, drinking. One of them was already too far gone to speak. The other, with a stronger head, was able to give information, which he was quite ready to do. A gentleman, he said, had engaged the chair, and had given them a guinea to drink if they would suffer him to find his own chairmen. His description of the gentleman corresponded with that already furnished. He spoke of a tall gentleman with a flushed face and rough manner of speech. He knew nothing more, except that two men, strangers to himself, had taken the chair and carried it off.

"Gentlemen," said his lordship, "there can be, I fear, no doubt the abduction of Miss Molly has been designed and attempted by Mr. Rising. Fortunately, he cannot have gone very far. It remains for us to find the road which he has taken."

They fell to considering the various roads which lead out of the town. There is the high road to Ely, Cambridge, and London; but to carry a chair with an unwilling lady in it on the high road, frequented by night as well as by day with travellers of all kinds and strings of pack horses, would be ridiculous. There was the road which led to the villages on the east side of the Wash; there was also the road to Swaffham and Norwich; another was also the road to Hunstanton.

"I am of opinion," said one of the gentlemen, "that he has fixed on some lonely place not far from Lynn, where he could make her a prisoner until she complies with his purpose and consents to marry him."

Captain Crowle shook his head. "She would never consent," he repeated. "My girl is almost as strong as any man, and quite as resolute. There will be murder if this villain attempts violence."

Just then the landlady of the "Crown" threw open the door and burst in. "Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen!" she cried, "I have found out where they are gone. Ride after them. Ride after them quick, before worse mischief is done. I have ordered all the horses in the stables to be saddled. There are eight. Quick! gentlemen, for the love of the Lord, ride after them."

"Quick! Quick!" said his lordship.

"Where are they? Where are they?" The captain sprang up.

"They are on their way. They cannot be there yet."

"But where? Where?"

"Mr. Rising ordered a post-chaise to wait for him at ten o'clock."

"He left the gardens," said his lordship, "about that time. Go on."

"He ordered it at the Duke's Head. The postboy told the ostler his orders. He was to wait for Mr. Rising at 'The Travellers' Rest,' at Riffley Spring, on the way to Wootton."

"'The Travellers' Rest'? What kind of place is that?"

"It is a bad place, my lord – a villainous place – on a lonely road up and down which there is little travelling. It is a resort of pedlars, tinkers, and the like – gipsies, vagabonds, footpads, and rogues. It is no place for a young lady."

"It is not, indeed," said one of the gentlemen.

"Gentlemen," the landlady repeated, "ride after him! Ride after them! Oh! the sweet Miss Molly!"

"Are the horses ready?"

"They will be ready in a minute."

"Gentlemen, there are, you hear, eight horses. Captain Crowle will take one, I will take another. The remaining six are at your disposal. I shall feel honoured if you will accompany me; but on one condition, if you will allow me to make a condition. The man will fight, I suppose?"

"Tom Rising," one of them replied, "would fight the devil."

"One could desire nothing better. The condition is that when we overtake Mr. Rising you will leave him to me. That is understood?"

"My lord, we cannot, by your leave, allow your valuable life to be at the hazard of a duel with a man both desperate and reckless."

"I shall take care of myself, I assure you. Meantime, if I fall I name Colonel Lanyon to succeed me, and after him, should he, too, unhappily fall, you will yourselves name his successor. Gentlemen, we must rescue the lady and we must punish the abductor. I hear the horses. Come."

CHAPTER XXIV

THE PUNISHMENT

The postboy, foreseeing events which might require a clear stage, warily drew his chaise off the road, which here widened into a small area trodden flat by many feet, into the grassy field at the side, and stood at his horses' heads in readiness.

The men on the ladder, who were pulling away at the thatch with zeal, stopped their work. "What's that, George?" asked one. "Seems like horses. They're coming after the young lady, likely;" so he slid down the ladder followed by the other, and they ran round to the front, seizing their poles in case of need. At elections, and on the occasion of a street fight, the chairman's pole has often proved a very efficient weapon. Handled with dexterity it is like a quarter staff, but heavier, and will not only stun a man, but will brain him, or break arm, leg, or ribs for him.

"For my part," Molly told me, "I saw them suddenly desist from their work, though in a few minutes the hole in the thatch would have been large enough to admit of a man's passing through. I was waiting within, knife in hand. Do you think I would have suffered one of those fellows to lay hand upon me? Well, in the midst of their work they stopped, they listened, and they stepped down the ladder. What did this mean? There was no window to the loft except a single frame with half-a-dozen small diamond shaped panes too high up to serve any purpose except to admit a little light. I put my head through the hole in the thatch. And I heard – imagine my joy – the clatter of horses and the voices of the horsemen. And then I knew, and was quite certain, that my rescue had arrived. 'Jack,' I said to myself, 'has found out the way taken by this villain, and is riding after him.'"

Alas! I, who should have been riding in the front of all, was at that moment unconsciously sleeping in my bunk aboard The Lady of Lynn.

"I thought that at such a moment Mr. Rising would be wholly occupied with defending himself. I therefore withdrew the boards from the top of the stair and looked down. No one was in the room below, that I could see. I cautiously descended. In the corner of the settle by the fireplace there was the old woman of the house.

"'They are coming after you, Missy,' she said. 'I knew how it would end. I warned him. I told him that everything was against it. I read his luck by the cards and by the magpies, and by the swallows. Everything was against it. They are coming. Hark! They are very close now, and they will kill him!'

"I ran to the open door. Mr. Rising was in the middle of the road without his hat, his sword in his hand; behind him stood his chairmen. He was not going to give me up without a fight. The postboy had drawn the chaise into the field, and the sedan chair was standing beside it. And down the road, only a little way off, I saw, in the growing light of daybreak, Lord Fylingdale leading, the captain beside him, and half-a-dozen gentlemen following, all on horseback."

"There she is! There is Molly!" cried the captain. "What cheer, lass? What cheer?"

Lord Fylingdale held up his hand. The whole party drew rein and halted. Then their leader dismounted. They were now about twenty yards from the men. He threw his reins to the nearest of the little troop. "Gentlemen," he said, "we must proceed with this business without hurry or bluster, or threats. Mr. Rising will, perhaps, threaten and bluster. We are here to rescue a lady and to punish a villain. Let both be done without the appearance of wrath or revenge. Captain Crowle, do not dismount, I entreat you, until the conclusion of the next act. Miss Molly is, as you see, apparently safe and unhurt."

They obeyed.

"I shall now measure swords with the young gentleman who thinks that he can carry off heiresses with impunity. I would advise you to advance a little closer to the house. He must understand that punishment awaits him, if not from me, then from some other of this company."

"Look at Tom," said one of them. "His blood is up. He is now all for fighting. He means mischief, if ever he has meant mischief. I remember at Swaffham when he fought the young squire of Headingley. That was about a girl, too. A mere worthless drab of a tavern servant. Tom broke down the man's guard and ran him through in half a minute. I wish we were well out of this job."

Tom stood in the road, as I have said, his sword in his hand, his hat lying on the ground before him. If flaming cheeks and eyes as fiery as those of a bull brought to bay mean mischief, then Tom's intention was murderous.