A Legend of Lincolnshire.
by Dalton [Richard Barham].
Originally published in Bentley's Miscellany (Richard Bentley) vol.15 #86 (Jan 1844).
This is the man should do the bloody deed;
The image of a wicked, heinous fault
Lives in his eye.
King John.
It was in the January of 18—, when, having passed in safety the perils of "Great Go," I determined to put into practice a pet scheme of making a shooting excursion into the wildest part of the fen country: there, at least, my memory would be able to discharge with all reasonable speed her confused cargo of Latin, Greek, history, algebra, arithmetic, moral philosophy, mechanics, hydrostatics, pneumatics, optics, and sundry other ticks which oppressed it. Accordingly, packing up half a dozen shirts, and as many pounds of "Pigou and Wilkes' best canister," I took my place, one clear frosty night, on the box of the Holbeach mail. On we sped some ten miles along a dull, dead road; then came a tree, then a bridge, then a rattling and jolting over the stones of a dirty, dreary town; then a turnpike, then ten dull miles more, and another tree, another bridge, another jolting, another dreary town, and so on, till at day-break we found ourselves in the neighbourhood of Wisbeach. Here it was necessary to engage a fly to convey me to the place of my destination, a lonely village, about fourteen or fifteen miles distant. I found, however, of much higher pretensions, and of far greater extent than I had anticipated, and, to say the truth, felt half inclined to quarrel with it for its gentility. The public buildings were numerous, comprising a church, two dissenting chapels, the stocks, a pound, and a very comfortable commercial inn; to which may be added a red-brick house, belonging to the attorney, and a white-stuccoed house, the abode of the surgeon.
There was, indeed, little room for choice as regarded lodging, and at "The Chequers," the inn aforesaid, my carpet-bag was pitched. Here the first couple of days passed away cheerily enough. The weather was fine, the birds abundant, and mine host's fare undeniable. On the third morning, a louring sky gave promise of a regular wet day, which promise was most exactly observed, and the rain came down in torrents. For some time I endeavoured to pursue the sport, till my gun, having exhibited many symptoms of reluctance, at length positively declined to go off at all. Nothing, then, remained but for me to do so, and make the best of my way back to what the classic Robins would term my "dulce domum." What, however, with the violence of the storm, which beat mercilessly in my face, the increasing darkness, and my imperfect knowledge of the country, it was soon pretty clear that I had lost my bearings, and it was near ten at night ere, drenched, chilled, and wearied, I reached the outskirts of the village. "The Chequers" was, of course, situated as near as might be in the centre; and stumbling on, now up to my knees in mud, now breaking my shins against some heap of rubbish, I gained the churchyard, through which a shorter pathway led to the inn in question.
The church itself, though much dilapidated, and even shorn of its fair proportions, as was indicated by the ruined walls around, was yet a picturesque and a noble building of the — but really, having the fear of Camden Societies, and the like, before my eyes, I am afraid to say of what century or what style. Enough, it abounded with windows, pointed arches, lofty buttresses, hideous corbels, and other grotesque carving. Whence the materials came, or how they were conveyed thither, no one could pretend to say; the erection was commonly attributed to the agency of the devil or the monks, and probably one or other had a hand in the transaction.
As for myself, I was at that moment far too discomfited either to speculate on its origin or admire its beauties, even had the latter been visible, but, nevertheless, could not help being struck, as its dim outline stood forth against the gloomy sky, with a light, a pale bluish flame proceeding apparently from one of the windows. I paused—and, but that my curiosity was as thoroughly damped as my powder, should have forthwith made farther examination; a piercing gust of wind, however, decided the matter, and hurried me forward. On looking again, the light had disappeared, and I thought no more of the matter till, encased in a dry suit, comforted by a capital supper, and seated in front of a glorious fire, I mentioned the circumstance in the travellers' room.
The company therein assembled consisted of four individuals besides myself. A stout, cheerful old gentleman, with a bald head and pigtail, smoked his pipe on one side of the huge grate. He was a man evidently of active habits, and kept bustling in his chair, poking the fire upon scientific principles, explaining them the while, and snuffing the candles with a decision that quite startled one; his manners and appearance were above the common run of farmers, and his age seemed to exclude him from the fraternity of bagmen. A little more quiescent, and he might have been the vicar,—a little less philosophical, and he would have passed for the attorney; as it was, he could but be the village apothecary. His vis-à-vis was a commercial traveller, in the wine and spirit line, a jovial, red-faced, white-teethed, apoplectic-looking person, and seemingly well acquainted with the practical part of his craft. The landlord, a middle-aged man, both meek and sleek, who said little, but whose ever-varying expression was a sufficient index of his thoughts, sat apart from the circle, and watched with manifest uneasiness the many unprovoked pokings and snuffings inflicted by the doctor. A young gentleman, with a sporting air, in a striped shirt, shooting-jacket, and Wellington boots, who turned out to be an attorney's clerk, and was kind enough to bestow much notice and patronage upon my humble self, completed the party.
On my casually mentioning the circumstance that had attracted my attention in the churchyard, a sudden silence fell upon all. The medical man hastily laid down the snuffers, as if they were unpleasantly warm; the landlord and my young Mecænas looked resolutely in my face, the one with an incredulous, the other with an inquiring gaze; the traveller alone remained undisturbed, and appeared to regard the tableau with much inward merriment.
"Capital!" he exclaimed. "What! they are at it again, eh!—a long game, upon my honour."
"Who are at it, and what is it they are at?" said I, as confused ideas of lead-stealers, body-snatchers, and church-robbers in general suggested themselves.
"Oh, ask Mr. Evans," was the reply. "He knows: nobody ventures to tell that story in his presence."
I looked inquiringly at the apothecary; he shook his head.
"The story, sir," said he, "which Mr. Baggs alludes to, though well known here, is yet one I am by no means fond of relating. It is too sad, too strange, and perhaps a little too long, for mixed company."
On such a night, with such a blazing fire, and such a bowl of steaming punch before us, a tale "o'er true" was a luxury not to be let slip. Persuasions, entreaties, were lavished upon Mr. Evans, and at length, although with some signs of reluctance, he thus began:—
"It is now nearly forty years ago since I first commenced practising in this lively part of the country. In those days I was possessed of little save a small floating capital invested in drugs, the necessary instruments of surgery, and a wife,—the last as necessary an article, perhaps, as any to a man of my profession. A very hard life we led of it at first, and it was not without much ado, and many strugglings, that we contrived to keep up cheerful looks and decent appearances. The population was at that time thin, and scarcely humanized; it was even reported that they were born with webbed feet; I do not vouch for the fact. Indeed, it was very rarely I had an opportunity of judging how they were born; for such was their heathenish ignorance, that a few barbarous receipts, handed down from Shem, Ham, or Japhet, together with an implicit reliance upon the powers of nature, sufficed for them in every emergency; and it was long ere they could be induced to have recourse to professional—and submit to be physicked like rational and christian people.
"It was with no little surprise, then, that, one winter's night, as I was on the point of retiring to the arms of Morpheus and Mrs. Evans, I received a summons to attend a strange lady, who had just arrived at The Black Lion, and who was prevented by sudden indisposition from pursuing her journey.
"'A lady at The Black Lion,' quoth I, buttoning on my greatcoat, in a state of extreme bewilderment.
"'Quite a lady, sir,—quite young and alone, one servant, and coach-and-four, sir,' was the reply.
"Such a thing had not occurred within the memory of man. Our country was rarely visited at all, save by the landlord's agent, and an occasional commercial traveller; but a lady, attended, too, merely by a servant, it was well nigh incredible; and, full of conjectures, I set forth to wait upon my new patient.
"The Black Lion was situated about half a mile from the village, or what was then the high road: you may have noticed its remains in your excursion to-day."
"I did so," replied I, interrupting the narrator; "the old sign-post drew me thither, in the hope of gaining shelter."
"Sign-post, indeed!" repeated the apothecary, with a shudder; "God keep us from many such! The storm was never witnessed that would drive me to seek shelter there. But to proceed—spite of wind and wet, I made my way as rapidly as possible across the fen to the house in question. The fens in those days were fens indeed; no drainage, no inclosures, no subsoil ploughs and Lincolnshire short horns; the snipe, and the bittern, and the moorfowl had it all to themselves. Where you now see corn waving and stock feeding, in those days not a living being, save those bred and born among the wilds, dared set foot. The paths across the morasses were few, and known to few, and rarely traversed, save in the pursuit of wild ducks and fen-birds. But of all the frequenters of that perilous region, Giles Roper, the landlord of The Black Lion, was held to be the most skilled and the most adventurous. He was a dead shot, and not thought to be over nice at what he pulled trigger. Many and strange were the stories told of his exploits, but little of good was known of him; and his house was the resort of sheep-stealers, poachers, and especially of low gamblers, ruffians almost as desperate as himself.
"Such was the character of the man and the spot which I was about to visit, and it was not without feelings of sorrow and apprehension that I learnt that a lady, young, sick, apparently rich, and unprotected, save by an aged domestic, had been compelled to seek so doubtful an asylum. On reaching the house, I was ushered at once to the chamber of the sufferer. It was a mean apartment, low-roofed, not over-clean, and evidently ill suited to the rank of its present occupant. Costly garments were heaped on the ricketty chairs, and on the plain deal table stood a magnificent dressing-case, with an ebony cabinet, curiously inlaid, and clasped with silver, by its side. I approached the bed, and, to my surprise, found the upper portion of the lady's features concealed by a black silk mask; the mouth alone was visible, the lips of which, bloodless and quivering, disclosed teeth perfect in shape and colour, but fast set in a paroxysm of pain. I gently opened the hand which lay clenched and rigid by her side. A single jewel sparkled on her finger; it was a diamond of marvellous size and brilliancy; but, alas! no plain gold ring was to be seen. As the spasm passed, I begged to be allowed to remove the covering from her face; it could but prove oppressive in her present state; 'twas vain. In a low, gentle, but decisive tone, she replied, 'it might not be.'
"Here was evidently an affair of mighty mystery. The lady had doubtless good reasons for guarding against recognition; and, at all events, it was no part of mine to pry into her secret. Meanwhile, many and anxious were the inquiries of her grey-haired attendant as to the condition of his mistress.
"'Thanks! thanks!' he exclaimed, raising his eyes to heaven, while the tears ran down his furrowed cheeks as I announced at length the birth of a female infant, with the assurance that no present danger was to be feared either to mother or to child. For some days all went well; the lady, proud of her new treasure, was fast recovering strength; but the babe itself, weakly and sick, I felt from the first its days were numbered and few. it was even so; ere a fortnight had elapsed the young mother clasped her firstborn cold and lifeless to her bosom.
"Well, sir, the pursuits of our profession are said to steel the heart, as well as nerve the hand, to enlighten the intellect, but to dull the sensibilities. It may be so, and it is well that it should be so; but I was untempered then, and never can forget the effect produced on me by the tearless, noiseless agony of that bereaved one. All desires, all interests seemed to have forsaken her. The mask was laid aside; concealment or discovery affected her but little now; and with her pale, lovely face shaded by locks of dark and dishevelled hair, she would sit for days without motion, without speech, but with a look of anguish and bewilderment on her brow that haunts me to this hour.
"The child was at length removed; calm it lay, and seemingly well content in its little coffin; then came the gush of tears and the burst of grief: then did the mother become fully and fearfully alive to her loss,—alive to the blow, but blind, poor creature! to the blessing.
"One evening, on entering the apartment, I found her just rising from her knees; she was more composed, and better than I had yet seen her, and announced her intention of taking her departure at the expiration of another day. She placed a most handsome present in my hands, and spoke in feeling terms of my kindness.
"'I shall tax it,' she said, 'yet further. You will accompany me to-morrow in my first, my last visit to the grave of my poor child?'
"I readily assented, and it was arranged that I should call early on the morrow for that purpose. As I was about to take my leave she gently laid her thin, soft hand upon mine.
"'Doctor,' she said, looking sadly up into my face, 'my sin has been great, but my sorrow has been grievous. I have prayed,—how unceasingly, how earnestly!—for pardon, and I dare hope I am forgiven.'
"'Poor soul! I never heard her speak again.
"On descending the stair, I found the landlord in the passage, apparently waiting my appearance. He motioned me into a small sanded room, yclept 'The Parlour,' and significantly closed the door. There was an oily smile on his ruffian countenance, and an offensive familiarity in his demeanour, that made my gorge rise; but it was not my cue to quarrel with the meanest of the neighbourhood, far less with a man so noted as Giles Roper; so I e'en gulped down my indignation, and submitted to his noisome society as best I might.
"'Here's to ye, doctor,' he commenced, pushing towards me a beaker of smoking punch,—the punch, by the way, at the Black Lion, I am bound in justice to admit, was fascinating,—'Here's luck! broken bones, and a sickly season; but in the meantime, I hear I am to lose a lodger, and you a patient, eh, Mr. Evans?'
"'The lady,' I replied, 'health permitting, departs the day after to-morrow."
"'Umph! well, I should be sorry to say anything uncharitable or ungentlemanlike; but some folks, you know, are not quite so rich, or quite so honest, perhaps, as other folks gives them credit for.'
"'Well, Mr. Roper,' said I, not precisely divining his drift, 'possibly they may not be—what then?'
"'Oh, nothing—nothing,' muttered the innkeeper. 'I suppose,' he added suddenly, 'you have got your fees all right; but all I can say is, not a penny of my bill has been paid yet--that's a fact!' The blood rushed to my face; I never felt so inclined before or since to kick a man out of his own house, or, indeed, out of any house. It was a luxury, however, not to be indulged, and I endeavoured to reply with composure,
"'If you refer to my patient, sir, I beg you will understand that I have been remunerated richly, nobly.'
"'Oh! I never questioned the lady's liberality,' interrupted my companion, changing his tone, 'it was her means I took the liberty of doubting; we've none of us seen the colour of her gold as yet.'
"'You may make yourself easy on that point,' replied I, rising to depart; 'to my certain knowledge your visitor is as able, as I am sure you will find her willing, to satisfy every reasonable demand.'
"'She has money, then?' asked Roper eagerly.
"'As this may serve to prove,' and I exhibited the rouleaux with which I had just been presented.
"An expression of exultation, almost devilish in its character, passed over the man's face as I spoke; it was brief as the lightning, but in the instant I saw my error, and inwardly cursed my folly in being trapped into such a disclosure by so shallow a device. Roper evidently perceived my vexation, and observed, in a careless tone, as he took down an immense single-barrelled gun,
"'Well, well; I only wish the thing that's fair. Nobody can complain of my charges but the ducks—eh, doctor? If the young woman has lots of the rhino, why the devil send her luck with it; but I am bound for the wild moor fen, and, with your leave, will bear you company as far as the village; we are off to-night on a fowling excursion.'
"Now, albeit Mr. Giles Roper and his duck-gun were not exactly the companions I should have chosen on a dark evening, with a large sum of gold upon my person, still all fears on my own account were swallowed up in the concern I felt for the safety of his guest, and I was too well satisfied to learn that he must be absent from home till day-break, to quarrel with an extra quarter of an hour of his society. His glance, his conversation, the more I reflected upon them the more pregnant with evil they appeared, and I determined, that night once over, it should be my care that his guest did not pass another under the roof of The Black Lion.
"Early on the following morning I set forth, according to my promise, deeply impressed with the necessity of urging the invalid to accelerate her journey. It was needless; her last journey on earth was ended. She lay dead in her bed. Those eyes, once so bright, and yet so soft, were glazed and starting from the sockets; that pale and gentle face was swollen and discoloured; her dark hair torn, and a broad livid mark, as of a man's hand, stamped on her ivory neck. She, so young, so beautiful, lay there in that vile den, dead, murdered, with none but strangers to gather round, not a kindred tear to moisten her cold brow; not a loving hand to cast a flower upon her grave.
"You may have noticed at no great distance from the church-door a plain slab of white marble; our kind old vicar caused it to be placed there; beneath lie the fair stranger and her child, Pardon and peace be with them!"
The old gentleman paused, and brushed away a tear that ran trickling down his nose.
"But, surely," said I, "the name and history of the murdered lady have since been brought to light?"
"Never, sir; to this day both remain a mystery. The motive of her secresy must be obvious; it has been well maintained; but one individual, who ere long must follow her to the dust, could divulge it. With that person it perishes for ever."
"And that person," said I abruptly, "is yourself."
The old gentleman made no reply, but a shade of displeasure passed across his brow. Hastily stammering forth an apology, I inquired if no steps were taken to discover the perpetrators of the foul deed?
"You shall hear, sir," resumed the apothecary. "An inquiry, such as it was, was set on foot immediately; but, to confess the truth, there was no one to pursue it with energy; our vicar was too infirm; I myself too ignorant in such matters, and too poor; the country squires were for the most part too indifferent or too distant; and in those days our humble village was not blessed with the presence of a lawyer."
Here my patronizing young friend, the clerk, emitted a heavy cloud from his cheroot, shaking his head the while with a commiserating air, as much as to say, "Poor devils!"
"From the evidence of two women who had been left in sole charge of the house,—the hostler having been sent to — to arrange about post-horses, and the landlord being engaged with the fowling-party,—it appeared that no alarm had been heard during the night, but that on entering the fatal apartment on the morning, they had found it stripped of every valuable, and its occupant a corpse. The marks of strangulation were fresh upon her person, and the finger of her left hand, from which the diamond-ring had been withdrawn, crushed, and bloody. An entrance appeared to have been effected through a scullery-door, one so ricketty and ill-secured that it would scarce have resisted the efforts of a child; thence access was easily gained to the remainder of the house. Suspicion at first naturally fell upon the lady's servant, the old man of whom I spoke, and who slept in an adjoining outbuilding. All search for him proved fruitless; he was nowhere to be found. But it seemed scarcely possible that a person of his age, an evident stranger too to the country, should have been able to make his escape on foot, so successfully as to leave no trace behind whatever; it appeared far more probable that he had shared the fate of his unfortunate mistress. And now, spite of the alibi which he set up, supported by the testimony of two dissolute characters, named Marsh; spite of the disappearance of the old man, whose guilt the landlord maintained to be manifest, public opinion gathered heavily round Giles Roper; so heavily, indeed, that although no direct evidence could be adduced, he, together with his two associates, found it advisable to quit the neighbourhood for a time.
"Meanwhile nothing further could be done, no clue could be discovered either to the missing servant or to the property which had been stolen; the body was accordingly buried in the spot I have mentioned, and the affair permitted to rest.
"About eleven months had elapsed, and people had well-nigh ceased to talk or think about the matter, when Mr. Roper once more ventured to take up his residence at his old abode; and it was reported about the same time that the two companions of his retirement had been seen lurking about the adjoining villages. The Black Lion, however, was deserted; bad as its former frequenters were, partly from a feeling of just horror, partly, perhaps, from superstition, they turned from the scene of bloodshed, and shunned the company of the reputed murderer. About this time, too, in consequence of the drainage then being commenced, it was found necessary to turn the high-road into its present position, and the branded inn was left in its solitude. But one visitor was known to cross the threshold; the sexton. He was a strange old man that, and had exercised his calling beyond the memory of the oldest inhabitant of the parish. He lived alone, with the implements of his trade, and never seemed happy but when called upon to ply them. At the grave he was all glee and merriment; singing and whistling at his work, and tossing up the heavy clay with an energy that had done credit to one in his prime. At other times he was moody and malicious in his manner; the children one and all looked upon him as an evil being; the women abused him, and the men contented themselves with exchanging a passing salutation. His evenings had been for the most part spent in the bar of The Black Lion; and then his eye would light up with a fierce and almost fiendish interest as he pursued the course of the games of chance, of which the bar in question was commonly the scene.
"Such was the sole companion left Mr. Roper. Giles, however, was not a man particularly sensitive to indications of popular feeling. He stood his ground manfully; smiled at averted looks, and resented open insults. His bold bearing in the course of time had, probably, borne down the resentment of more active enemies, and been accepted by the indifferent multitude as an evidence of innocence. The trial, however, was not allowed him. Before a month had elapsed from his return he was summoned to a sterner tribunal than that of man. Pursuing his customary sport one day in the fens, his gun burst in the firing, and the wretched being was brought maimed and senseless to his home. The effects were beyond measure frightful; three fingers hung loosely by the lacerated tendons from his right hand; his left was shattered to the elbow; the lower jaw was fractured, and a piece of the broken metal had buried itself deep in the centre of his forehead.
"On being informed of the accident, I once more, though not without a feeling of distaste and repugnance, hurried to the roadside inn; as I was ascending the stairs I heard footsteps hastily pacing the room above, and at the same time the following somewhat remarkable words were audibly pronounced, in the harsh shrill voice of the sexton: 'Cheer up, Giles Roper; you will have fair play. We have sworn it on the book, Giles. Alive or dead, you will have fair play.'
"A groan from the dying man was the only reply. On my entering, the sexton seated himself, and relapsing into his habitual silence, watched the proceeding with a contemptuous scowl. His miserable companion was far beyond the reach of human skill; nothing remained but to dress his wounds, and administer an opiate. Having done so, I departed. Giles Roper died that night."
"Now, sir," interrupted the commercial gentleman, who had been gradually wound up to a state of excitement quite charming to witness,—"now for the extraordinary part of the story."
Mr. Evans continued. "The man died, and was buried. About a week after the funeral, one dark, stormy night, I was returning from a visit to a patient who resided at a considerable distance. The wind, laden with the heavy miasma of the fens, swept howling across the level; at times a burst of sleet, sharp and sudden, would almost strike me from the saddle; then the moon for an instant would be seen on high, stemming the rushing clouds; and then, again, the icy fog, in huge rolling masses closed around. My pony was well nigh up to her knees in mud and water, and, spite of my exertions, it was past twelve before I gained the village; no sound save the melancholy moaning of the wind was to be heard in the deserted street. The good folks retired right early then. Dismounting,—for in so dark a night the road was dangerous,—I made my way along the narrow causeway, and on arriving at the church was startled by perceiving an appearance similar to that which attracted your attention to-night. A light was glimmering through the church-window. Feeling assured that no good could be working at such an hour, in such a place, I left my nag to find her way to the stable as best she might, and, leaping the low churchyard wall, approached the building. For a moment my heart failed me; an indescribable sensation of awe came over me as I felt I was within a few yards of some dark and unhallowed deed. The qualm passed in an instant; the next my nerves were strung, and my pulse beat full and firm as ever.
"It was no hard matter for one young and active to raise himself by means of the buttress, and the uneven surface of the stone-work, to the level of the window in question. Merciful heavens! what a spectacle met my gaze as I did so! Forty years have passed since then, yet every feature of that fearful sight is fresh in my memory as though I looked upon it but yesterday.
"You, sir, have examined the interior of our church, and could not fail to have remarked an antique tomb, that stands near to the altar. It is the resting-place of the founder of the pile. The good knight's shield and banner still hang from the wall above. Round this tomb were four persons seated, engaged apparently at play. In three I recognised at once the sexton, and the two brothers Marsh; the fourth was a corpse. Yes, there, in his grave-clothes, bound and bandaged, sat Giles Tepee, the landlord of The Black Lion. There was a terror in that sheeted form, dragged from the charnel-house to join the impious revel, that might have appalled a stouter heart than mine. The face, half hid by the shroud, half lit by the flickering lamp, seemed, as the shadows flitted across its livid features, to waken into life, and vary its expression with the progress of the fearful game.
"Before the dead man counters and cards were placed, and as his turn came round to play, the sexton regularly selected one of the latter from the parcel; while from the ebony cabinet of the murdered lady, which stood, half emptied of its rich contents, on the centre of the slab, the victors drew their stakes at the conclusion of each deal. Of this party the sexton alone seemed to be at ease, and he grinned and chuckled as he swept up his double portion of the glittering coin, now chiding, now praising his ghastly partner as the luck ran with or against them. On a sudden the stone which had hitherto supported my weight, slipped from its position, and with a vain attempt to save myself, shivering the window in the act, I fell heavily to the ground. The light was instantly extinguished, the players were evidently alarmed. Not a moment was to be lost. Bounding across the turf, I again leaped the fence, and ran at full speed towards the more respectable quarter of the village.
"In less than half an hour a body of the principal inhabitants were assembled, and, my story hurriedly told, we proceeded en masse to the desecrated church. All was dark and still, and every portal barred. The blacksmith, however, by the vigorous application of a sledge-hammer, soon effected an entrance through a small door, which, opening into the belfry, communicated with the body of the building. Chancel, nave, and aisle, all were searched; pew and pulpit—all in vain. Not a corner, not a nook was left unexplored; but no trace of the sacrilegious visitants was to be discovered. Already had my companions begun to wax discontented, and to grumble at being roused from their beds on such a bootless errand; hints even were thrown out concerning stocks, horseponds, and similar instruments of popular and primitive justice. Confounded, and almost inclined to doubt the evidence of my own senses, I leant hopelessly against the old tomb, when suddenly a something sparkling on the pavement caught my eye: it was the diamond ring!—the same I had seen on the finger of the fair stranger.
"Again the tide turned. 'To the sexton's!' shouted the blacksmith; 'the old fox must have run to earth; we'll unkennel him yet.' And, shouldering his huge hammer, he struck off, followed by the whole crowd, towards a small cottage which was close at hand. The door was forced in a moment, and, spite of his curses and protestations, the wretched culprit was dragged from his bed, and placed under strict watch for the remainder of the night. As day broke, parties, armed with the readiest weapons they could procure, started off to scour the country round, and ere noon the two Marshes, bound and handcuffed, were brought in, having been found concealed in a neighbouring barn. The vault in which the landlord had been buried was next examined, and the coffin-lid found to be clumsily and imperfectly secured, the body itself betraying evident symptoms of recent disinterment. Still, spite of every endeavour, no portion of the stolen property (the ring excepted) could be brought to light; even the runners sent down from Bow Street were foiled.
"The prisoners, meanwhile, stoutly maintained their innocence, and doubts began to be apprehended as to whether we could bring forward sufficient proofs to insure conviction. Under all circumstances, it was thought advisable to make overtures to the younger Marsh, whom we had reason to believe less deeply implicated than the others. After a little decent hesitation, he consented to be admitted king's evidence, and it was from him we learned at last the full particulars of the mysterious transaction.
"It appeared that on the night of the murder Giles Roper, having quitted me, proceeded to join the two brothers and the sexton at the house of the latter; thence, after waiting a sufficient time, the whole party returned to The Black Lion, and, leaving the Marshes to keep guard over the old servant, the landlord, followed by the sexton, entered the house, and made his way to the fatal chamber. Here, while the latter was employed in collecting the booty, Giles with an iron grasp seized the lady by the throat, and with his left hand pressed heavily on her mouth. So suddenly and so successfully was the movement executed, that not a cry escaped her:—a few convulsive struggles, and all was over.
"The sexton was next despatched, together with the witness, to convey the spoil to a place of security,—no other than the antique tomb before mentioned, a large stone of which, though apparently firm as masonry could make it, opened readily to one who knew the secret. Meanwhile Roper and his accomplice, with the old man, pinioned and blindfold, behind them, drove off to the wild-moor fen, and, having dragged their victim to the edge of one of those dark, deep pools, then so common in that district, fastened a bag of shot about his neck, and plunged him headlong in. Notwithstanding the ingenuity with which this fiendish scheme had been contrived, suspicion, as has been seen, attached so strongly to the real perpetrators, that they were obliged to fly for a time from its effects. Before they separated, they all bound themselves by an oath, too horrible to repeat, to meet on that day twelvemonth in the church, there to divide their ill-gotten wealth as chance might decide; and, at the instigation of the sexton, they had on the appointed night dragged their dead companion from his grave, and compelled him to fulfil his share of the engagement. The result of this meeting has been shown; it remains but to add, that the lost treasure was found in its old hiding-place, and that the two murderers were condemned, executed, and gibbeted by the road-side, immediately opposite the scene of their foul crime. That gibbet, sir, was the sign-post you took notice of to-day."
I shuddered at my mistake. "But the light," I exclaimed, after a slight pause; "how do you connect the light I saw this evening with circumstances which occurred forty years ago?"
"Ay," exclaimed the commercial traveller, rubbing his hands with glee, "the light—explain that to the gentleman."
The apothecary smiled.
"The light," said he, "that attracted your attention I take to have been one of the fen-fires—an ignis fatuus, so common in these marshy districts, and especially frequent in places foul with the decay of animal and vegetable matter. I have seen many such in the very spot in question; and a little examination would probably have convinced you that it proceeded from the low grounds below the church, and not from the interior of the building. There is, however, a tradition current among the old ladies here, doubtless, owing its origin to the very appearances we are speaking of, that on certain nights in the year (which they are, by the way, have never been very clearly determined) the phantoms of the three felons assemble round the old tomb, and with lamp lit, and cards shuffled and dealt, there await the coming of their pardoned accomplice to resume the game. Your vision will probably serve to corroborate the tale; indeed, you are at liberty to apply to it which solution you deem fit."
"Well," I observed, at length, "without calling in a Jove to unravel my knot, your tale is of itself sufficiently full of wonders, and seems to speak to us of the more than common interference of an all-guiding Providence."
"Ay, sir, that does it," replied the apothecary, in a graver tone; "it speaks to us of a never-closing Eye; it speaks to us of that stern truth,—let man hide murder as he will, let him shroud it in the darkness, let him bury it in the grave, there is yet a revealing hand above,—MURDER WILL OUT."