""Good afternoon, Miss Marguerite," he exclaimed; "I was gathering these beautiful wild flowers, and heard a step. Guess my surprise, my pleasant surprise, at seeing you, my dear. How bountiful G.o.d is to give us all those beautiful wild sprays of beauty. Do you know, my dear, that I think I get half my inspiration from the flowers; not so much from those which we pamper in our gardens, as from those which grow in wild, sweet places with only His hand to tend them."
""How very beautiful your ideas always are," the poor girl said, as she looked admiringly at her gifted and pious friend.
""Ah, my child, I am but a very unworthy instrument in G.o.d"s hand.
But come with me into this sombre wood--you have a full hour to spare--and we shall find a bouquet for your good aunt. Give her my blessing when you see her. This way, my dear Marguerite; this way. If we could reach a beautiful lake, which lies about a mile distant through this wood, I think that I could find you some lilies there --some sisters for you. When first I saw you, my dear Marguerite, you reminded me of a lily."
"The poor girl blushed deeply at these compliments; and she thought that it was so good of this gifted man to bestow them upon a poor, simple girl like herself.
""But this is the horrid swamp, Mr. Jonas, where they say the robbers live. Lots of men have come in here, and never came out again. Do you not feel afraid?"
""I feel no alarm, my timid child. I have wandered many a day through the aisles of this sombre wood. The boughs grow so heavy and the trees so close as you advance, that you will find that "dim religious light" whereof the gifted poet writes."
""Oh, if you are not afraid, Mr. Jonas, why should I be?" and this poor unsuspecting dove followed the monster toward the snare.
"I will not harrow your feelings by describing the bewilderment, horror and despair that fell upon that beautiful maid when the naked, odious, h.e.l.lish truth was put before her. The Reverend Mr. Jonas, of course, claimed her as his prey; and no one gainsayed his right. Ah, it was very horrible. A week later, through some means or another, the poor girl made her escape from the den, but the old woman and Silent Poll speedily followed. A short way from the road they overtook her; and when the fugitive saw the wretches she screamed murder, and appealed for help. But her cries were soon ended; for the old woman knocked her senseless with a club; and the two together accomplished the murder. That night she was buried beneath the roots of a great pine tree; and I often go there and sit and think; and watch the violets that I planted upon her grave."
When the girl ended there was a speechless horror in our hero"s face; and two or three times tears glistened in the eyes of Nancy as she hurried through with the horrible recital.
"I do not understand what motive the chief could have had this morning in tolerating your rebellious att.i.tude. n.o.body has ever dared to cross him except Joe, who once or twice while intoxicated forgot himself. But he is too good a man to put aside. I am sure that the chief must have made up his mind that you shall aid him in some desperate enterprise which he has in mind. He speaks much of some beautiful girl whom he is bent on capturing. I believe that he expects your a.s.sistance in the enterprise."
"He and his h.e.l.lish crew shall rob me of my last drop of life-blood before I will so much as raise a finger to aid either him or them in any work of infamy or crime. He knows, that; and I do not think that he will try any more persuasion."
"Do not be too certain. If he did not expect to make use of you, you would have been put to death this morning as coolly as if you had been a dog."
"Well, to make that matter easy, more than the chief would have been needed at the killing."
"Ah, you know not his giant, brutal strength. I fear that he could crush you like an infant."
"I have no such fear. I dread him not, either with or without arms; and I rather concluded this morning that the fellow is as much coward as bully."
"Well; it may be so. But your safety is by no means a.s.sured. Lying as you did in a doorless room last night, you were at the mercy of Murfrey"s knife. And I well know what a stealthy murderer that is.
Your danger to-night would be two-fold, for you have made of the old woman a deadly enemy; and of silent Poll the same.
"You will require to be unceasingly on your guard against treachery; and it will be never safe for you by night or day if you have not your knife or pistol at your hand. I would recommend both."
"Then what is to be my safeguard in the night? I must sleep sometimes; and I shall surely be murdered."
"I am glad to say that the chief this morning ordered that you should have an inner room, to which there is a st.u.r.dy door. This will be locked upon you every night from the outside. I believe that the captain is half afraid you will attempt to escape because you said this morning that you would give yourself up to justice rather than stain your honour. You will be able to sleep without alarm therefore; but lest an attempt should be made by the old woman or by Joe to open your door from the outside, you had better barricade it from the inside. You have done well in making a friend of The Lifter, for he is very much devoted to myself; and bitterly jealous of Murfrey whom he detests. To me, therefore, you must appear as to Silent Poll; and henceforth I shall he more discreet than I was last night."
"And why were you indiscreet? Why did you drink so much of that fiery spirit?"
"I hardly know; but I think it was the pleasure that I felt at seeing such a face as yours, one so n.o.ble, frank, and honourable, at the table."
"But drinking in that way, it becomes impossible for you to preserve yourself unsullied, as you say you have done."
Here the poor girl blushed again.
"I grant that appearances are much against me; but I have told the truth. Seldom since coming here have I indulged so freely &a you saw me do last night. But even last night I had full control of my reason."
"Ah! brandy is accursed stuff, my poor girl. Shun it as you would a deadly poison. I perceive by your face that your drinking habit is a stronger one than you yourself suppose. I have therefore a favour to ask. It is this: that whatever comes, you drink no more spirits."
She looked into his face, and the tears started to her eyes.
"Oh! this indeed is something that I had never expected. It is like a voice speaking out of the tomb of Hope. But what would be the use of this unless you have some hope for my future. I have none. Have you, oh! _have_ you any hope for me?" Her voice was piteous, pa.s.sionate, pleading.
"And why should I not hope for you? I cannot see that you have been an accomplice in the crimes of these horrible people. A victim you are, and naught else that I can see. Of course it cannot hut seem strange, inexplicable indeed, that you should so mutely accept your doom; that you have never made any attempt at escape."
"Because I was afraid. They have often told me that _voluntary residence_ among them makes me criminal equally with themselves.
And oh, I was afraid to face the world"s pure and honest face. How could I? to think what I have lived through, all that I have seen, these fearful years." And she put her hands upon her beating temples.
"That is the talk of despair; and is utterly unworthy of any man or woman. As to your guilt because of "voluntary residence," that is not true. Besides, it would be difficult to show that it is voluntary; especially when they found it necessary to raise these fears in your mind in order to retain you here.
"Now _I_ have hope; and why should you despair. Suppose we seal a compact between us to have as our highest aim our escape from this den? Think you not that we could in good time accomplish it?"
"Oh, do not raise these hopes in me. Should they grow in my heart and then be crushed again, I know not what should become of me. _I could not live._"
"Well, this is my programme: To tarry here as best I may until the spring. It would not be safe for me to venture away any sooner, for the sleuth hounds are on my track. But the law"s ire will have cooled by that time; and together we should be able to make our way to the American Republic." The girl threw herself upon her knees and turned her streaming eyes to heaven. Never before did more hearty prayer of grat.i.tude ascend before the throne of G.o.d. Then taking our hero"s hand she kissed it; then arose and became calm. They spoke no more about the matter; but their escape was henceforth the great aim of their lives. A minute later The Lifter joined them.
"I suppose you have been haveen a jaw together," he said. "I hope she told you about the lake and why the Capteen won"t eat the fish there. They"re too fat for his likeen."
Nancy"s air was so serious, for she had within the past hour become a changed girl, that The Lifter could not help noticing it.
"I suppose you are lamenteen because your sweetheart is away to-day?"
"I am not, Lifter. I feel just as happy with you as with him. But mind do not tell him that I said so."
"Oh, you need not trouble about that. I am too cunneen to run risks with Joe."
Then the party ascended the stream, and found several still pools of water varying from myrtle to coffee brown in colour. Each such piece of still water had a congregation of foam bubbles; and no sooner was the cast made than the float went down like a stone.
In the delightful excitement Roland frequently forgot the perils that surrounded him; was often quite oblivious to the fact that he was in the toils of a den of robbers. Strange to say he had come to think less of the blood upon his own hands since hearing the history of Markham Swamp, and finding himself a prisoner among the horrible fiends.
Having caught five or six dozen speckled trout the party returned to the lair. That evening the chief and Joe returned, the face of each dark and threatening. There was no hilarity, and supper was eaten in silence. Then the robbers smoked for an hour, while the girls repaired torn garments. Nancy did not raise her eyes from her work; but there was in her face a new light, the light of Hope.
CHAPTER VIII.
UNDERGROUND MYSTERIES OF THE SWAMP.
Now that the reader may feel himself upon sure ground as to the facts of this true story, I may state that Roland likewise learnt from Nancy that the gang had a rendezvous in a piece of dense wood known as Brook"s Bush, close to the mouth of the Don River. It is also a fact that when the den at Markham was broken up finally, some of the surviving desperadoes took up their permanent abode at Brook"s Bush, where they kept an illicit still. Down to fifteen years after the date of my story the community was every now and again startled by tidings of robbery, outrage or murder at the Don; and the last notable act of the gang was the murder of the editor of the _Colonist_, one Hogan, a member of the legislature. His taking off was done by a woman who struck him upon the head with a stone which she carried in a stocking.
[Footnote: Scores of persons living in Toronto now remember this outrage; but anybody can verify the fact by turning to the files of the newspapers of those days.--THE AUTHOR.] The body was then thrown into the Don where it was picked up a short time afterwards.
As for the people of Markham, they lived in constant terror of the miscreants lodged in the bush so near their doors; and they established an efficient staff of special constables for the protection of life and property.
Markham township had been settled about forty-five years before, princ.i.p.ally by a number of Dutch families which moved thither from Pennsylvania; but to the rather picturesque little village of the same name, nestling among the pines that fringed the River Rouge, came straggling immigrants or persons grown tired of the solitude and the privations of backwoods life. But to distant portions of the province this thriving village came to be known rather through the terrible reputation of the adjacent swamp than through the thrift, comfort and progress of the people. So much then for the "dry" but essential facts of this narrative.