Edith gazed upon the paper for an instant, agitated and trembling through her whole frame; but her eye fell upon the name of Richard Radford. His image rose up before her, recalling all the horror that she felt whenever he was in her presence; then came the thought of Leyton, and of her vows to him yet uncancelled. "Richard Radford!" she said to herself--"Richard Radford!--marry him--vow that I will love him--call G.o.d to witness, when I know I shall abhor him more and more--when I love another? I cannot do it--I will not do it!" and she pushed the paper from her, saying, aloud, "No, I will not sign it!"
"Very well," said Mr. Radford--"very well. Your parent"s blood be upon your head;" and he proceeded to fold up slowly the deposition he had shown her, in the letter he had written. But he stopped in the midst; and then, abandoning the calm, low tone, and stern but quiet demeanour which he had lately used, he started up, striking the table violently with his hand, and exclaiming, in a loud and angry tone, "Wretched, miserable girl, dare you bring upon your head the guilt of parricide?
What was the curse of Cain to that? How will you bear the day of your father"s trial--ay, how bear the day of his death--the lingering agony of his imprisonment--the public shame of the court of justice--the agony of the gallows and the cord?--the proud Sir Robert Croyland become the gaze of hooting boys, the spectacle of the rude mult.i.tude, expiring, through his daughter"s fault, by the hand of the common hangman! Ay, think of it all, for in another minute it will be too late! Once gone from my hand, this paper can never be recalled."
Edith uttered a faint cry; but at the same moment a voice behind Mr.
Radford said, "Nor can it, now!" and Sir Robert Croyland himself laid his hand upon the papers.
Mr. Radford turned round fiercely, and was darting forward to seize them from him; but he was held back by a more powerful arm; and the baronet went on, in a voice grave and sad, but firm and strong--"Sir Henry Leyton," he said, "I give these papers into your hands to do with exactly as you may think right, as a man of honour, a gentleman, and a respecter of the law. I ask not to hold them for one moment."
"Do not struggle, sir,--do not struggle!" cried Leyton, holding Mr.
Radford fast by the collar--"you are a prisoner."
"A prisoner!" exclaimed Mr. Radford. "What! in my own house--a magistrate!"
"Anywhere, sir," answered Leyton; "and for the time, you are a magistrate no longer.--Ho! without there!--send some one in!"
Edith had sunk down in her seat; for she knew not whether to rejoice or grieve. The first feeling undoubtedly was joy; but the next was bitter apprehension for her father. At first she covered her eyes with her hands; for she thought to hear the terrible truth proclaimed aloud; but when she looked up, Sir Robert Croyland"s face was so calm, so resolute, so unlike what it had ever appeared of late years, that fear gave way to surprise, and surprise began to verge into hope. As that bright flame arose again in her heart, she started up, and cast herself upon her father"s bosom, murmuring, while the tears flowed rapidly from her eyes, "Are you safe--are you safe?"
"I know not, my dear child," replied Sir Robert Croyland; "but I am now doing my duty, and that gives me strength."
In the meantime, a dragoon had appeared at the door, and as soon as Mr. Radford beheld him, he exclaimed, "This is a base and infamous plot to defeat the ends of justice. I understand it all: the military power called in, right willingly, I have no doubt, to take away the doc.u.ments which prove that felon"s guilt. But this shall be bitterly repaid, and I hold you responsible, sir, for the production of these papers."
"Certainly, Mr. Radford," replied Leyton, with a calm smile, "I will be responsible. But as you object to the military power, we will hand you over to the civil. Hart," he continued, speaking to the soldier, "call up Mowle or Birchett, or any of the other officers, and let them bring one of the constables with them, for this is not purely a case for the Customs. Then tell Serjeant Shaw to bring on his men from the back, as I directed, seeing that nothing--not an inch of ground, not a shed, not a tool-house, remains unexamined."
"Of what am I accused, sir, that you dare to pursue such a course in my house?" demanded Mr. Radford.
"Of murder, sir," replied Sir Henry Leyton.
"Murder!" exclaimed Mr. Radford, and then burst into an affected laugh.
"Yes, sir," replied the young officer; "and you may find it not so much a jest as you suppose; for though the law, in consequence of the practices of yourself and others, has slept long ineffective, it is not dead. I say for murder! as an accessory before the fact, to the armed resistance of lawful authority, in which his majesty"s subjects have been killed in the execution of their duty; and as an accessory after the fact, in harbouring and comforting the actual culprits, knowing them to be such."
Mr. Radford"s countenance fell; for he perceived that the matter was much more serious than he at first supposed. He trusted, indeed, from the laxity with, which the law had lately been carried into execution, that he might escape from the gravest part of the charge; but still, if Sir Henry Leyton was in a condition to prove the partic.i.p.ation of which he accused him, in the crimes that had been committed, nothing short of transportation for life could be antic.i.p.ated. But he had other sources of anxiety. His wretched son, he expected to present himself every minute; and well aware of the foul deed which Richard Radford had that morning perpetrated, and of his person having been recognised, he was perfectly certain, that his apprehension would take place. He would have given worlds to speak for a single instant with one of his own servants; but none of them appeared; and while these thoughts were pa.s.sing rapidly through his brain, the officer Birchett entered the room with a constable, and several other persons followed them in. He was startled from his reverie, however, by Sir Henry Leyton"s voice demanding--"Have you brought handcuffs, constable?"
"Oh, ay, sir," answered the man, "I"ve got the bracelets."
"Good evening, Mr. Radford," said Birchett; "we have hold of you at last, I fancy."
Mr. Radford was silent, and the young officer demanded, "Have you found anything else, Birchett?"
"Oh yes, sir, plenty," answered Birchett, "and besides the run goods, things enough to prove all the rest even if we had not proof sufficient before--one of your own dragoon"s swords, sir, that must have been s.n.a.t.c.hed up from some poor fellow who was killed. Corporal Hart says, he thinks it belonged to a man named Green."
"Well, there is your prisoner," replied Leyton,--"you and the constable must take care that he be properly secured. No unnecessary harshness, I beg; but you know how rescue is sometimes attempted, and escape effected. You had better remove him to another room; for we must have all the papers and different articles of smuggled goods brought hither."
"I protest against the whole of this proceeding," exclaimed Mr.
Radford, on whom the constable was now unceremoniously fixing a pair of handcuffs, "and I beg every body will take notice of my protest.
This person, who is, I suppose, a military officer, is quite going beyond his duty, and acting as if he were a civil magistrate."
"I am acting under the orders and authority of a magistrate, sir,"
replied Sir Henry Leyton, "and according to my instructions.--Dear Edith," he continued, crossing over to her, and taking her hand as she still clung to her father; for all that I have described had taken place with great rapidity--"you had better go into another room till this is over. We shall have some papers to examine, and I trust another prisoner before the search is finished.--Had she not better retire, Sir Robert?"
But Mr. Radford raised his voice again, as the constable was moving him towards the door, exclaiming, "At all events, I claim my right to witness all these extraordinary proceedings. It is most unjust and illegal for you to seize and do what you will with my private papers, in my absence."
"It is a very common occurrence," said Sir Henry Leyton, "in criminal cases like your own."
"Let him remain--let him remain!" said Sir Robert Croyland. "He can but interrupt us a little.--Oh, here is the clerk at last!--Now, Edith, my love, you had better go; these are no scenes for you."
Leyton took her by the hand, and led her to the door, bending down his head and whispering as he went, "Be under no alarm, dear girl. All will go well."
"Are you sure, Harry--are you sure?" asked Edith, gazing anxiously in his face.
"Certain," he replied; "your father"s decision has saved him."
As he spoke, there was a violent ringing at the bell; and Mr. Radford said to himself, "It is that unhappy boy; he will be taken, to a certainty." But the next instant, he thought, "No--no, he would never come to the front door. It must be some more of their party."
Sir Robert Croyland, in the meantime, seated himself at the end of the table, and handed over a number of papers, which Leyton had given him at his own house, to the clerk, who, by his direction, seated himself near. "I have no objection, Mr. Radford," he said, turning to the prisoner, "that you should hear read, if you desire it, the depositions on which I have granted a warrant for your apprehension, and, at the requisition of the officers of Customs, have authorized your premises to be searched for the smuggled goods, a part of which has been found upon them. The depositions are those of a man named George Jones, since dead, and of Michael Scalesby, and Edward Larchant, at present in the hands of justice; and the information is laid by John Mowle and Stephen Birchett."
At the recital of the names of several of the men whom he himself had furnished with arms and directions, Mr. Radford"s heart sunk; but the moment after, a gleam of bitter satisfaction sprang up in his breast, as the door opened, and Mr. Zachary Croyland entered, exclaiming, "How"s this--how"s this? I came to take a dove out of a hawk"s nest, and here I find the dogs unearthing a fox."
"I am very glad you are come, sir," replied Mr. Radford, before any one else could speak; "for, though you are the brother of that person sitting there, you are a man of honour, and an honest man----"
"More than I can say for you, Radford," grumbled Mr. Croyland.
"And, moreover, a magistrate for this county," continued Mr. Radford.
"I never act--I never act!" cried the old gentleman. "I never have acted; I never will act."
"But in this case I shall insist upon your acting," said the prisoner; "for your brother, who is now proceeding thus virulently against me, does it to shield himself from a charge of murder, which he knew I was about to bring against him."
"Fiddlesticks" ends!" cried Mr. Croyland. "This is what people call turning the tables, I think. But it wont succeed with me, my good friend. I am an old bird--a very old bird, indeed--and I don"t like chaff at all, Radford. If you have any charge to make against my brother, you must make it where you are going. I"ll have nothing to do with it. I always knew him to be a fool; but never suspected him of being anything else."
"At all events," said Mr. Radford, in a gloomy tone, "since simple justice is denied me at all hands, I require that the papers which have been seized in this house, be placed in proper hands, and duly authenticated. The important evidence of the crime of which I charge him, has been given by your brother, sir, to one who has but too great an interest, I believe, to conceal or destroy it. I say it boldly, those papers are not safe in the keeping of Sir Henry Leyton; and I demand that they be given up, duly marked by the clerk, and signed by myself, and some independent person."
Leyton"s eyes flashed for a moment, at the insinuation which the prisoner threw out; but he overcame his anger instantly, and took the papers which had been handed him, from his pocket, saying, "I will most willingly resign these doc.u.ments, whatever they may be. Mr.
Croyland, this person seems to wish that you should keep them, rather than myself; but here is another paper on the table, which may throw some light upon the whole transaction;" and he took up the written promise, which Mr. Radford had been urging Edith to sign--and on which his own eyes had been fixed during the last few minutes--and handed it, with the rest, to her uncle.
"Stay, stay a moment!" said Mr. Croyland, putting on his spectacles.
"I will be responsible for the safe keeping of nothing of which I do not know the contents;" and he proceeded to read aloud the engagement to wed Richard Radford, which Edith had rejected. "Ay, a precious rascally doc.u.ment, indeed!" said the old gentleman, when he had concluded; "written in the hand of the said Richard Radford, Esq., senior, and which, I suppose, Miss Croyland refused to sign under any threats. Be so good as to put your name on that, at the back, Mr.
Clerk. I will mark it, too, that there be no mistake."
"And now, sir, since you have read the one, will you be good enough to read the other?" exclaimed Mr. Radford, with a triumphant smile.
"Even-handed justice, if you please, Mr. Zachary Croyland; the enclosure first, then the letter, if you will. I see there are a mult.i.tude of persons present; I beg they will all attend."
"I will read it certainly," replied Mr. Croyland, drawing one of the candles somewhat nearer. "It seems to be somewhat indistinct."
Sir Robert Croyland leaned his head upon his hand, and covered his eyes; and several persons pressed forward, to hear what seemed of importance--in the eyes of the prisoner, at least.
Mr. Croyland ran over the writing, as a preliminary to reading it aloud; but, as he did so, his countenance fell, and he paused and hesitated. The next moment, however, he exclaimed, "No, hang it! It shall be read--"The deposition of William Clare, now lying at the point of death, and with the full a.s.surance that he has not many minutes to live, made before Richard Radford, Esquire, J. P.; this 24th day of September, in the year of grace 17--;" and he proceeded to read, with a voice occasionally wavering indeed, but in general firm and clear, the formal setting forth of the same tale which the reader has heard before, in the statement of Sir Robert Croyland to his daughter.