L I E) R.ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVERSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 Hl4Go 
 v.l
 
 r /
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, 
 
 Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 AUTHOR OP « THE BUCCANEER, 
 &c. 
 
 Wake, friend, from forth thy lethargy! the drum 
 
 Beats brave and loud in Europe, and bids come 
 
 AH that dare rouse, and are not loathe to quit 
 
 Their vicious ease : 
 
 It is a call to keep the spirits alive 
 
 That gasp for action. Ben Jo«son. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 SUCCESSOR TO HENRY COLBURN. 
 
 1835.
 
 "n 
 
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How vainly men themselves engage 
 To win the palm, the oak, or bays ; 
 And their incessant labours see 
 Crown'd from some single herb or tree, 
 Whose short and narrow verged shade 
 Does prudently their toils upbraid , 
 While all the flowers and trees do close. 
 To weave the garlands of Repose. 
 
 .V Andrew Marvell. 
 
 ^ . 
 
 ^ The last month of spring was passing, and 
 
 - :^tbe warm breath and genial influence of sum- 
 
 "^mer were shortly to be heralded by the blithe 
 
 vand bonny May. Those who wrote, dated the 
 
 ryyear as 1688, a period of deep and exciting, 
 
 j^d now of immortal, interest, in our nation's 
 
 ^istory. At the time our narrative com- 
 
 ^ VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 merices, the second James had just been com- 
 pelled to submit to an investigation touching 
 the legitimacy of his son ; but with history, or 
 historical personages, we have at present little 
 to do, our details being devoted chiefly to pri- 
 vate individuals and private events. 
 
 The morning was clear and mild, sufficiently 
 so to tempt forth Sir Everard Sydney, and his 
 constant attendant, Ralph Bradwell, as soon as 
 the sun had risen. Sir Everard was seldom long 
 at his toilet ; his dressing-room, indeed, would 
 have seemed a den of horrors to a modern gentle- 
 man, or even to a fashionable baronet of the 
 period. We will endeavour to describe it. A 
 small apartment, panelled with black and shin- 
 ing oak, each division studded with hooks and 
 nails and pegs of various dimensions, opened 
 upon a green and extensive lawn : the fretted 
 framework and coloured glass of the narrow 
 casement were in excellent keeping with the 
 antique chamber. There was a huge chimney- 
 piece extending along the half of one of its 
 sides, directly opposite the window ; this also
 
 THE OUTLAW. 3 
 
 was of oak, and wreaths of flowers, twined by 
 lusty cupids, and interspersed with fantastic 
 heads, were carved upon it with greater libera- 
 lity than good taste ; but the seats within its 
 embrasure, intended in days long gone for very 
 different purposes, were now occupied by strange 
 and grotesque objects, which at once bespoke 
 the habits and feelings of the venerable gentle- 
 man who was master of Sydney Pleasance. 
 
 On one side, and at the end next the fire- 
 place, a cushion of tarnished blue damask served 
 as a bed for an enormous white Persian cat, 
 whose red eyes gleamed like balls of living fire 
 when turned towards a diminutive ape, that, 
 sitting gravely and silently on his haunches, 
 contemplated with an expression of lurking 
 mischief the gambols of two kittens, whose short 
 fur and moderate-sized tails bespoke their Eng- 
 lish birth and mixed descent. A curious table 
 stretched its unwieldy length along another side 
 of this eccentric chamber ; upon its colour and 
 quality it would have been impossible to deter- 
 mine, shrouded as it was by dust and cobwebs, 
 
 b2
 
 4 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 and covered with various portions of decayed 
 plants, birds' nests, fishing-tackle, mole-traps, 
 fly-cages, butterfly-nets, and distorted-looking 
 insects, stuck on clumsy pieces of cork ; while 
 here and there a huge mass of spar, a moon- 
 stone, an elf-arrow, or some such specimen of 
 geology, proved that 
 
 " To no one science was his taste confined." 
 Over this medley a glass case extended its 
 awkward height almost to the ceiling, but its 
 multifarious contents were too numerous and 
 too complicated for us to attempt their arrange- 
 ment : suffice it to say, that they consisted of 
 Indian arrows, stuffed birds, skulls and skins 
 of various animals, dried sea-weed and shells, 
 all huddled together without care or skill, and 
 forminff a combination that would have irri- 
 tated beyond all control the temper of a modern 
 naturalist. There was a shelf, too, within this 
 receptacle, appropriated for books ; and among 
 them a superbly bound copy of Evelyn"'s " Syl- 
 va,"" then esteemed a wonder in literature, with 
 the author's autograph, and an inscription in
 
 ' THE OUTLAW. 5 
 
 his own handwriting, that "The booke was 
 presented to his esteemed and worthy fellow-la- 
 bourer, Sir Everard Sydney, as a poor token of 
 his high respect and consideration, and a small 
 manifestation of how truly he joyed in such a 
 friend." Beneath the table, reposing on a rough 
 bear-skin, lay a noble dog, a genuine Irish 
 wolf-hound of the true breed : age had shed its 
 snows over his black and wiry hair ; his eyes 
 were dim and sunk within their sockets; but 
 the broad and muscular chest, the thews and 
 swelling sinews of his limbs, and his thick yet 
 finely proportioned neck, showed that Brano, 
 like the men of his country, might prove a dan- 
 gerous enemy as well as a trusty friend. 
 
 The pegs to which we have alluded were 
 furnished in as strange a fashion as the other 
 portions of the chamber; on one, which 
 projected considerably from the panel, was 
 seated a superb scarlet macaw, at that time 
 almost an unknown bird in England : happily 
 for the, quiet inmates of Sydney Pleasance, 
 the creature was dead, stuffed, and consequently
 
 6 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 silent. Smaller and gentler ornithological spe- 
 cimens had been preserved in a similar manner ; 
 but their dusty coats, and fixed glass eyes, 
 formed a striking contrast to the movements so 
 fraught with life and liberty of the merry birds 
 who gaily carolled and flitted over the grassy 
 lawn that fronted the windows. 
 
 A single fact is worthy of record, as tending 
 to illustrate the character of one who, born to 
 distinguished rank, with much of power within 
 his grasp, preferred the simple but certain en- 
 joyments of a country life to a high place in 
 the disturbed court or senate of his country. 
 Many there are who will contend, that in peril- 
 ous times a man has no right to prefer his own 
 comfort to the necessities of the state ; but the 
 peaceful feelings and tastes of Sir Everard 
 Sydney rendered him unfit for war or cabal : he 
 had the wisdom to know this, and if he were 
 selfish in enjoying tranquillity on bis own de- 
 mesne, when his country was torn by civil broil 
 and private dissension, it was the only act of self- 
 ishness that could be laid to his charge during
 
 THE OUTLAW. 7 
 
 a life which, at the comraencement of our nar- 
 rative, had extended to sixty and five years. 
 
 But the little trait of character we were 
 about to notice is this : — one of the divisions of 
 the window, somewhat larger than the others, 
 contained a painting of the Virgin Mary, hold- 
 ing the infant Saviour on her knee, while the 
 shepherds, clad in blue tunics, yellow sandals, 
 and rose-coloured scarves, looked over her 
 shoulder; the subject had not been executed on 
 one entire piece of glass, but the portions were 
 cemented together in no very imperceptible 
 style: a robin, with the longing which these 
 birds so generally exhibit towards human so- 
 ciety, had taken a fancy to build its nest in the 
 shell of a large cocoa-nut that was suspended 
 from the ceiling ; thus, amid strings of eggs 
 of the ostrich and the eagle, the domestic win- 
 ter bird occupied a prominent situation, with- 
 out heeding, or, at least, dreading the various 
 animals that dwelt in the farther extremities 
 of the room, depending, perhaps, both on its 
 own agility and man''s protection for its safety ;
 
 8 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 it had originally entered through an aperture in 
 the door, which, however. Sir Everard feared 
 was too near the ground for the little creature's 
 security ; he therefore directed the removal of 
 a portion of the painted glass ; — the condemned 
 morsel happened, unfortunately, to be no other 
 than the head of the Virgin. 
 
 Now, Lady Sydney was a decidedly bi- 
 goted Roman catholic, and her husband, al- 
 though of the protestant faith, had no inten- 
 tion of giving her the least offence by so simple 
 a sacrifice to the comfort of his feathered fa- 
 vourite ; in fact. Lady Sydney had never even 
 looked at the window, and it is doubtful if she 
 knew what the painting represented, until the 
 dilapidation was officiously pointed out to her 
 notice by a certain Father Frank, who resided 
 in the family as her spiritual director, and added 
 to his employment that of jester, mimic, and mas- 
 ter of all ceremonies which had for their object 
 the promotion of innocent mirth. 
 
 In an unlucky moment he placed before his 
 patroness this point of contention, expecting to
 
 THE OUTLAW. 9 
 
 derive some amusement therefrom, and little 
 anticipating the results to which it led. Now, 
 Sir Everard, on all matters unconnected with 
 his darling pursuit, was the most yielding and 
 gentle of beings, but here he was firm as a 
 rock ; so he told his lady wife, " the birds had 
 now completed their nest, the mysterious pro- 
 cess of incubation was going forward, and he 
 would not have their domestic happiness dis- 
 turbed, or the fate of their progeny endangered, 
 for the sake of any painted trumpery upon 
 earth." 
 
 Lady Sydney, lofty and dignified on all oc- 
 casions, was peculiarly so on this ; she drew 
 herself to her utmost height, declared eternal 
 war with the robins, and from that day forward 
 never entered the dressing-room of her worthy 
 lord ; this, upon the whole, he considered a 
 fortunate event, as whenever she had visited 
 his sanctum she had straightway disturbed 
 what he superfluously termed " his arrange- 
 ments," producing havoc and confusion among 
 his choicest curiosities, directing what she con- 
 
 B 5
 
 10 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 sidered " rubbish" to be thrown away, and 
 asserting (as, woman-like, she was somewhat 
 prone to do) her authority over herb and stone, 
 parchment and feather, as if they had been 
 her domestics — or her husband ! 
 
 More than two years had elapsed ; and 
 this extraordinary Museum remained undis- 
 turbed by the lady's presence. Sir Everard, 
 in that portion of his own house, had conse- 
 quently enjoyed as much of his own way as 
 any one can enjoy who permits a cat, a dog, a 
 monkey, and a young, laughing, loving, gentle, 
 affectionate creation, just entering her summer 
 solstice, — by which we mean to typify the 
 period when the wild and blushing girl changes, 
 imperceptibly but certainly, into the more staid 
 and conscious woman ; — we say that Sir Everard 
 enjoyed as much of his own way as any man 
 can, who suffers three or four such troublesome 
 creatures to have free ingress to his repository, 
 where, to confess the truth, they all did pretty 
 much as they thought proper. 
 
 The cat was fortunately of that sleepy spe-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 11 
 
 cies which desires peace and tranquillity rather 
 than exertion and mischief. She would not 
 take the trouble to kill her own game, much 
 less to hunt for it ; and with the exception of 
 occasional wanderings, few and far between, 
 confined her sphere of action from the damask 
 cushion, and the oak chimney, to a bright sun- 
 shiny patch of green lawn, within two yards 
 of the window, where, in the warm summer- 
 time, with half-shut eyes and outstretched 
 paws, she contemplated, with most un-cat-like 
 gentleness, the gambols of the wild birds, upon 
 whose natural privileges she was in truth too 
 lazy to infringe. 
 
 The monkey's misdemeanours were certainly 
 more numerous ; but the creature was mild and 
 amusing, and much attached, like all other 
 things within the precincts of Sydney Plea- 
 sance, (always excepting Lady Sydney,) to the 
 kind and gentle baronet. 
 
 The wolf-dog was of far too noble a nature to 
 condescend to petty acts of disrespect towards 
 either his generous host, or his dwelling ; but
 
 12 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 he also was fond of his own will, did not 
 like being disturbed, and would seldom come 
 when called, having, it would appear, a dogged 
 sort of way of thinking for himself, and acting 
 according to his own judgment; dignified in his 
 habits and manners, but seldom affectionate, 
 and rarely fawning ; indeed, the only person he 
 ever positively obeyed or caressed, was his fair 
 young mistress, the cheerful damsel we have 
 alluded to — the fourth pet, and the fourth 
 plague of the museum, who, though not Sir 
 Everard's daughter, was known, and intro- 
 duced by the name of Rosalind Sydney. 
 
 It is time we take note of the outward appear- 
 ance of the excellent baronet, and observe his 
 proceedings, as he left the room, whose con- 
 tents and inhabitants, whether stationary or 
 migratory, we have thus endeavoured to de- 
 scribe. He vi'as unusually tall and erect, of a 
 free unfettered carriage, and a bearing be- 
 speaking both the man of letters and of gentle 
 blood ; there was more of grace than strength 
 in his form and movements, and though age
 
 THE OUTLAW. 18 
 
 had dealt mildly with him, as with a cherished 
 offspring, it had sobered his step, and changed 
 the clustering hair, that disdained the fashion- 
 able incumbrance of a periwig, from raven 
 black to a closer resemblance of our nature's 
 lot ; it was of mingled white and grey, and 
 curled with unrestrained and natural elegance 
 over his shoulders. 
 
 He wore a coat, or rather tunic, of fine green 
 Spanish cloth, which descended nearly to his 
 knee, where it was met by the wide tops of 
 boots, turned over with stout bufl' leather — 
 this peculiar coat was girt round his waist by a 
 horseman's broad belt, containing no weapons, 
 however, that could be termed either warlike 
 or dangerous, with the exception of a huge 
 clasp knife, and a very small hand-axe, or 
 hatchet, that rested on his thigh, the bright 
 blade of which glittered in the morning light : 
 not that the belt was unfurnished — by no means 
 — it was adorned in many places with pincers 
 and odd-looking hooks ; a tin case dangled from 
 behind, after the fashion of a sabredash, and
 
 14 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 a bunch of corks, in which were stuck multi- 
 tudes of pins, kept it close company : a trans- 
 verse belt crossed over the right shoulder and 
 passed under the left arm, for no other pur- 
 pose than to support a flat wicker basket, 
 which was smartly fastened by a bow of green 
 riband with fringed ends, looking very like 
 the handiwork of some young female who 
 joyed in decorating whatever the odd, yet in- 
 nocent, taste of Sir Everard thought either 
 useful or ornamental; but the countenance 
 of this venerable gentleman, without having 
 any one feature that could be marked out as 
 indicative of a decided propensity, was of so 
 tranquil and happy a nature, that it was im- 
 possible to look upon him without feeling he 
 was one of those blessed beings who drink 
 the draught of life, and drain it to the very 
 dregs, without tasting enough of its bitterness 
 to discompose the elements of which he is 
 formed. His was a somewhat uncommon cha- 
 racter : among men, he lacked the energy, the 
 activity, the strength both of mind and body
 
 THE OUTLAW. 15 
 
 which characterise the sterner sex — but he 
 possessed a benevolence of feeling, a tem- 
 perance and chastity of thought and action, 
 which amply entitled him to the holy and 
 emphatic praise of being " a friend to God 
 and man""' — it may be added, to God's crea- 
 tures ; for even in the pursuit of that innocent 
 and guileless science, which brings its votaries 
 into commune with the Almighty through 
 the medium of his works, he has been known 
 (and we state it on the authority of his humble 
 and devoted follower, Ralph Bradwell, who, 
 simple body as he was, had still sufficient 
 wit to understand that the anecdote illustrated, 
 while it told favourably for, the character of his 
 master, whom he loved to adoration) to forego 
 the possession of a rare and beautiful specimen 
 of the feathered tribe, rather than destroy it 
 when in his power. 
 
 "There was two of Vm," said Ralph — **! 
 forget their proper names, but something main 
 euros — I tracked 'em for as good as four 
 months, and master had 'em both in the taking-
 
 16 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 net — 'What shall I do with the hen-bird, 
 Ralph ?' says he, ' I've got one stuffed at home, 
 and 'twould be a wanton waste of life to take 
 what I don't need.' — ' Let it go, sur,' said I, and 
 master did ; and he held the other in his hand, 
 thinking how to make away with it in the 
 gentlest way ; and the cretur fluttered and 
 screamed, and on that the she-bird that master 
 let off, came and flew so close, that I could 
 have caught it again. So I seed master look- 
 ing at the bird, and his blue eyes grew brighter 
 an' brighter as he watched the great love the 
 bird had for her mate, and all of a sudden he 
 opened his hand, and the two flew off together, 
 and rested on a black-thorn tree, the cock-bird 
 on the top branch, and the poor hen on a little 
 twig close at its feet, and the male, master 
 said, burst into a song o' gratitude: and, says 
 master, and he swore, Which is what he don't 
 often do, and wished the little hen in the black 
 hole ; ' I've been five years,' he says, ' after 
 that specimen — and Ralph, I could ha' killed 
 it, but: for the wail o' the she-bird.' * Sur,' said I,
 
 THE OUTLAW. 17 
 
 (for I understood him,) 'sure you could ha' 
 killed both, and then the she would not fret.' 
 — ' Ralph,' says master, ' you're an ignorant 
 brute ;' and that," added Ralph, " was the hard- 
 est word I ever heard out o' master's mouth 
 to man or beast, though I've track'd him now 
 for seven-and-twenty years, through all the 
 quagmires, peat-heaths, hedges, rivers, and 
 lakes within as many miles !" 
 
 We must once more recur to the fine and 
 gladsome morning on which Sir Everard, at- 
 tended by this same Ralph, set out, for a 
 given purpose, to a small lake not more than 
 a mile from his own dwelling. 
 
 As he passed across the lawn he stooped, 
 and picked up a pebble which he flung at a 
 latticed window that jutted out in one of those 
 octagonal towers which are sometimes seen 
 flanking, like gigantic sentinels, the corners of 
 old country-houses. The rose-coloured damask 
 remained unmoved — he threw another — then 
 a third — and at the last summons the curtains 
 flew apart, as if by magic, and a fresh, animated
 
 18 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 face was pressed close to the window. At the 
 same instant, the lattice sprang back, and that 
 countenance, sunny and joyful as a midsummer 
 morning, laughed a blithe good morrow to the 
 Baronet's salute. 
 
 Rosalind Sydney was not beautiful, if her 
 claims to beauty were determined by the stan- 
 dard generally received and acknowledged; 
 but her great fascination consisted in a play 
 and expression of feature which a limner would 
 have found it impossible to convey to his 
 canvass. Her eyes were dark, her teeth white 
 and even, her brow high and polished, her 
 skin and complexion of marvellous purity, 
 both of quality and colour, and her hair of 
 the true bright nut-brown, rich, curling, and 
 abundant ; it was her many moods, the rapid 
 succession of thoughts and feelings, the lofty, 
 yet affectionate tone of her impassioned mind, 
 that rendered her face the dial of her true 
 heart's thoughts and wanderings; whatever 
 she felt was told forth by her mobile features 
 — joy, sorrow, hope, disappointment, scorn,
 
 THE OUTLAW. 19 
 
 respect, pleasure, pain, chased each other over 
 her countenance with an earnestness that 
 made those who loved her tremble for her 
 future fate. 
 
 In those days, what is now called Education 
 did little for women ; but Nature did more for 
 that sex which must ever be her largest debtor. 
 Noiv, the pestilential breath of worldly wisdom 
 is breathed into the dove''s bosom, even before 
 her wing has known the joy of liberty ! 
 
 Rosalind's person was full and well formed, 
 graceful withal, and dignified — her clear soft 
 voice harmonized with the trees, and shrubs, 
 and melody of a May morning — to nothing 
 else can I liken the joyousness of its sweet 
 and expressive music. 
 
 " Ah, dear uncle, you did not think me 
 awake, much less dressed, by this time, did 
 you ?" she inquired, while gathering her hair 
 from off her shoulders, and confining it in a net 
 of green and gold : " but I had made up my 
 mind to rout out the Kingfisher's nest with you ; 
 Ralph, good Ralph, let me into your secret.
 
 20 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Do not stand longer than you need on the damp 
 grass, my uncle, but away to the lake. I know 
 well where it is — under the willow at the end 
 of the spot I christened — the Torrent of Lilies ; 
 I shall be there as soon as you."' 
 
 The old gentleman kissed his hand to the 
 fair girl, who watched him until he had entered 
 beneath the shade of the elm avenue, closely 
 followed by Ralph, who, if we may be pardoned 
 so homely an expression, was the cast-off shadow 
 of his patron, 
 
 Ralph was nearly as tall as Sir Everard, but 
 his figure was bent, and his step and motion 
 such as belong to those who are commonly 
 denominated " half-witted." His red lanky 
 hair was clubbed and matted at the back of 
 his head ; his eye, grey and restless, wandered 
 amid the trees, and into each crevice and nook 
 of the path or bank he trod upon. He had 
 learned, it would almost seem, to hold silent 
 converse with every commoner of nature ; a 
 phrenologist would have said, that his organs 
 of observation were strongly developed, — for
 
 THE OUTLAW. 21 
 
 his brows overshadowed those deeply-sunken 
 eyes, that peered and twinkled beneath their 
 shaggy pent-house. Whatever observations 
 Ralph made, it must be admitted that he kept 
 them carefully to himself, though when any of 
 the servants of Sydney Pleasance called him 
 " fool," or Rosalind's Irish nurse designated 
 him " a born natural," a peculiar meaning 
 overspread his sharp features — his skinny lips 
 moved without giving birth to any sound — 
 and Ralph, at such moments, looked very like 
 a person who could at least feel, if he could 
 not reason. The creature, too, had warm affec- 
 tions, was devoted to his master and Mistress 
 Rosalind, and entertained a profound venera- 
 tion for Father Frank. His lady imagined he 
 had contributed to the decapitation of the 
 Virgin — Ralph, consequently, was no favour- 
 ite of hers ; but as the sentiment of dislike 
 had never manifested itself in aught but innuen- 
 does. Sir Everard turned a deaf ear to them 
 all ; for Ralph, in matters concerning birds, 
 insects, and curious plants, was his patron's
 
 22 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 right hand. He could catch vipers without 
 experiencing any ill effects from their bite, se- 
 duce wild bees from their nests, storm the for- 
 tress of wasp or hornet with marvellous skill 
 and intrepidity, and, it was both reported and 
 believed, track birds through the air, and tell 
 them as they flew past, by the sound their 
 wings left upon the viewless winds ! Certainly, 
 there was one book in which this being of min- 
 gled shrewdness and simplicity could read, 
 though even that he perused after a fashion of 
 his own — the book of Nature! He loved the 
 fields, whether covered with verdure or with 
 snow. The sunshine or the whirlwind seemed 
 to afford him equal gratification : he would 
 laugh with the first, and triumph with the 
 last; was cheerful in spring, smiling and in- 
 dolent in summer, sober in autumn, and in 
 winter stupid and lazy as any mole. Thus, 
 wandering perpetually after the footsteps of his 
 master, he might be termed a living barometer 
 of the seasons as they had gone over him during 
 a period of nearly fifty years. Sir Everard*s
 
 THE OUTLAW. 23 
 
 green coats were regularly converted into jack- 
 ets for his service, but constant exposure to sun 
 and rain changed them to a yellow and sickly 
 hue; the leathern belt, and huge botanizing 
 boots also, were invariably made over to poor 
 Ralph, so that his external man looked exactly 
 like what we have said — the cast-off shadow of 
 his patron. 
 
 After Rosalind had watched her uncle's 
 figure till it was completely lost beneath the 
 spreading trees, she turned to her mirror to 
 finish the arrangement of her dress, a duty 
 rarely omitted by a girl of any age. She might 
 have been pardoned for the smile that glowed 
 upon her cheek at the beautiful picture which 
 her mirror presented ; but in a moment it had 
 passed, and a shade — a thought of real or 
 imaginary trouble, — came upon her brow, 
 saddening the expression of her sweet coun- 
 tenance ; as she raised her hand and pressed it 
 for a moment over her eyes, the door of her 
 chamber opened ; and when next her ken rested 
 on the looking-glass, the reflection of two coun-
 
 24 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 tenances was before her. She uttered an ex- 
 clamation of pleasure and surprise, and twined 
 her white arms affectionately round the shri- 
 velled neck of her nurse, old Alice Murrough. 
 
 There was a striking contrast between the 
 loveliness of youth and the solemnity of age ; 
 Alice Murrough looked much older than she 
 really was ; her hair, and even her eyebrows, 
 were white as snow, and her dark burning eyes, 
 keen, sharp, and dazzling, were the only tokens 
 of what her years might be. She was a strong 
 and muscular woman, of almost gigantic height 
 and proportions, and the character of her 
 countenance and the cast of her frame proved 
 her descent to have been truly Milesian ; the 
 long Spanish face, dark complexion, sparkling 
 eyes, all spoke " the ancient blood of Ireland." 
 Her character, as will be seen hereafter, was 
 in strict accordance with the impulses, pas- 
 sions, prejudices, and affections of her people. 
 
 Before old Alice returned the greeting of her 
 foster-child, she pushed back the hair, braided 
 beneath the silken net, still farther from her
 
 THE OUTLAW. 25 
 
 brow, and gazed upon it silently for several 
 moments ; then reverently she signed the cross 
 upon its polished surface, and as reverently 
 kissed the spot she had thus hallowed; and 
 then again looked upon it and muttered, re- 
 peating the sacred symbol at the termination 
 of each line, — 
 
 " A cross at the morning 
 Is th^ evil one's warning ; 
 A cross at the night 
 Is the angels' delight; 
 A cross at the birth 
 Keeps the spirit from earth ; 
 A cross " 
 
 She paused in her rude rhyme, and repeated, 
 " A cross — a cross. Now God be good to me, 
 ma vourneen, but I Ve forgotten the last line ; 
 Och ! weary is the ould head that forgets to 
 think, though the ould heart can't forget to 
 feel, — don't you mind it, a lanna ?*" 
 
 " How should I remember it, dear nurse," 
 replied the young lady ; " your cross is not 
 my creed."' 
 
 "And more's the pity — and more's the 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 sorrow ! And it's that is breaking my heart 
 intirely. Och, misery me ! to think of it has 
 made my head white." 
 
 " Thinking of me made your head white, 
 nurse? for shame! — I thought I was your 
 darling." 
 
 " Sure, and that you are my darling, my 
 own deep darling,"*' she replied with a sudden 
 burst of fondness ; " my heart's darling — and 
 may the Almighty God hear my prayer, this 
 blessed twentieth of April — the prayer that I 
 pray on my bended knees ;" and she sank down 
 as she spoke, and stretched her bare and bony 
 arms to their full length, in an attitude of 
 the most earnest supplication. " May the sun 
 never be too hot, nor the frost too could, for my 
 heart's jewil — may the four winds of heaven 
 blow only to bring her comfort and joy while 
 she dwells upon the earth — may goodness and 
 virtue reign in her heart ; and may her ene- 
 mies, be they spirits or mortals, have no 
 strength over her. May the blessed Mother, 
 and the twelve holy Apostles, watch over her
 
 THE OUTLAW. 27 
 
 by night and day, and bring her to the right 
 faith. May every briar grow roses for her 
 sake, and every bird on the bush sing her 
 praise ! May the power of sin have no mas- 
 tery over her ; and, above all, this day, this 
 blessed day, the day of her birth, keep her, 
 keep her from all evil !"" 
 
 Rosalind started ; she had never before been 
 told the day of her birth, though she had often 
 desired to know its date. 
 
 " Whisht ! whisht, darling," she continued, 
 perceiving Rosalind's impatience, '* I 'm not 
 half done yet." Then taking up, as it were, the 
 thread of her blessing, she repeated with in- 
 creased earnestness, " Keep her, keep her from 
 all evil ; and, oh ! may her bed in heaven be 
 soft, and her death happy as that of unborn 
 babes who have never breathed the bad air 
 of a bad world !*** 
 
 " Enough, enough, dear nurse," interrupted 
 Rosalind, who saw that Alice was working her- 
 self into a fit of agitation not easily subdued. 
 " Enough, and more than I deserve ; there, 
 
 c2
 
 28 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 stand up ; and I, who have owed so much to 
 your care since first I entered what I have at 
 times thought a bitter world, will kneel for 
 your simple blessing, as I used in your little 
 cottage, when we sat at the door in the dear 
 Irish moonlight, watching the salmon spring 
 from out the clear Boyne waters. Oh, Alice ! 
 those were happy hours ! Let me kneel, and 
 then you must tell me why I have not before 
 known the day of my nativity."*' 
 
 " Wait, wait !"''' exclaimed the woman, un- 
 clasping her hands, and extending the long 
 skinny fingers of her right hand in an admo- 
 nishing attitude : her feelings had now taken 
 another course, and her voice, from the firm 
 exalted tone of blessing, sank into a low croak- 
 ing wail, like the mutterings of a December 
 wind. " Wait, child, wait ! The Murrough 
 rises not from blessing her friends, without 
 cursing her enemies — enemies ! Och hone ! och 
 lione ! Alicia Murrough has no enemies ; the 
 grandeur is gone from her father's name, and 
 she has no dwelling in her own country where
 
 THE OUTLAW. 29 
 
 to bid the stranger welcome. She is herself a 
 stranger in a could and misty land, and no one 
 thinks it worth their while to point a finger 
 at her as she passes. She is low, low — lower 
 than the dust that the whirlwind gathered at 
 her father'*s door. But you, ma colleen, you 
 had enemies — black and bitter they were, 
 that served you with stony food and poisoned 
 drink, and then bid ye bless God that ye had 
 it. The misthress herself, though she 's of my 
 own faith — And, oh ! may hell " 
 
 " Stop, woman — nurse ! I command you 
 stop !" ejaculated Rosalind, at the same in- 
 stant seizing her arm. " Do you know that 
 you were about to speak of my dear uncle's 
 wife ? You are mad or worse. Alice ! Alice ! 
 those who throw the first stone should look 
 that their hands be clean, and their hearts 
 pure." 
 
 Had a thunderbolt struck Alice Murrough 
 she could not have been more suddenly levelled 
 with the earth ; she sank upon the floor, her 
 arms hung listlessly by her side, and her
 
 30 ^ THE OUTLAW. 
 
 head, that had been thrown back with the air 
 of a demoniac priestess, fell upon her bosom. 
 Rosalind was too angry with her for some 
 moments to take any notice of this manifest 
 change, but at last, seeing she did not move, 
 she spoke to her in a different tone. 
 
 " Nurse ! arouse, nurse ! have you brought 
 me no little present ; no cake, no gay garters, 
 no gloves of your own knitting ? Dear nurse, 
 you said it was my birthday. We must have 
 cheerfulness and blessing to-day, dear Alice." 
 
 As Rosalind stooped to raise the old woman 
 from her painful position, a clear shrill whistle, 
 as from a silver tube, sprang through the open 
 casement. 
 
 *' You hear, nurse, my uncle's call — he is 
 impatient of my tardiness — you will have the 
 cake ready for my breakfast ?" 
 
 The woman looked up. — "Where are you 
 going ?'' 
 
 " Only to see my uncle take the Kingfisher's 
 nest from the Torrent of Lilies."" 
 
 " Mistress Rosalind !" exclaimed Alice, again
 
 THE OUTLAW. 81 
 
 moving on her knees, "for the sake of the 
 Almighty, go not on the water ; you may go 
 near it, or look at it, but go not on it to-day. 
 Promise me," she grasped her dress, " promise 
 me, for the peace of the heart that often rocked 
 you with its beating — promise me, promise 
 me you will not go into a boat this day !*" 
 
 " Well then indeed I will not ; you must 
 tell me why when I return." She kissed her 
 affection atel}'^, and, turning laughingly back 
 as she was passing through the door, again re- 
 minded her of the cake she wished to be pre- 
 pared for breakfast. 
 
 It was long ere Alice Murrough moved from 
 her knees ; and when she did, it was only to 
 seat herself on the floor, and drawing herself 
 up, rock backwards and forwards with a slow 
 and monotonous movement. 
 
 " Bake," she muttered ; " I baked and 
 brewed for her long ago ! O Mother, most 
 merciful ! She could know nothing ; and yet 
 God put the words into her mouth just in time 
 to save me from the sin of cursing the curses
 
 32 THE OUTI.AW. 
 
 — that — but oh, blessed martyrs! pray for 
 us now, and at the hour of our death !"" 
 
 She then took out her beads, and while the 
 beams of the morning sun broke gloriously 
 through the sky, told over the litanies in which 
 she trusted for the remission of her sins.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 33 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 'Twas the corrupted light of knowledge hurl'd 
 Sin, Death, and Ignorance, o'er all the world. 
 That sun like this (from which our sight we have) 
 Gazed on too long) resumes the light he gave ; 
 And when thick mists of doubts obscure his beams. 
 Our guide is error, and our visions dreams. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Leaving Alice Murrough to the conclusion 
 of her orisons, we will proceed to inspect the 
 interior of Lady Sydney's oratory, which was 
 in no degree different from those of other 
 prayer-closets, except that its furniture dis- 
 played exceeding richness. 
 
 The little altar was of tortoise-shell inlaid 
 with silver, the cross and figure of our Saviour 
 of gold, and the moveable eyes of this rare 
 piece of workmanship were composed of dia- 
 
 c 5
 
 34 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 monds of the finest water. The tapers were 
 of perfumed wax ; and the draperies of the 
 window, of black velvet from Genoa, were 
 seamed, decorated, and looped with massive 
 bullion fringe, while here and there a ponder- 
 ous tassel appeared borne down by the weight 
 of solid gold. The contents of this unique 
 apartment consisted also of two carved ivory 
 chairs, luxuriously cushioned with minever, 
 from whose high backs depended a full dra- 
 pery of the same rich material, interspersed 
 with golden trimming ; the hassocks were soft to 
 kneel upon ; and a small table, valued as a pre- 
 cious relic by Lady Sydney, from the fact of its 
 having been once in the possession of Thomas 
 a-Becket, supported an illuminated missal, 
 and some other books of Catholic devotion. 
 
 It is impossible to imagine a greater contrast 
 than that presented by the two chambers we 
 have endeavoured to describe ; yet each was 
 but the outward stamp of the inward spirit 
 of their presiding destinies. Sir Everard's 
 incongruous but curious assemblage of living
 
 THE OUTLAW. 35 
 
 and dead subjects connected with natural his- 
 tory, spoke him a being of the affections — 
 a creature of kind and tender feelings — awake 
 to, and triumphing in, all the sympathies and 
 mysteries of the Creator and his works ; while 
 Lady Sydney's oratory — her chosen place of 
 repose and study, told at once, not only of her 
 faith, but of its exclusive and gloomy cha- 
 racter. No ray of light was suffered to enter 
 in undimmed brightness; the foot fell in 
 all the secrecy of silence upon the sombre 
 carpeting ; and the very air appeared folded 
 within the recesses of the darkly tapestried 
 walls. There was no sound within the sanc- 
 tuary — the very attendant, seated at her frame 
 in the deep embrasure of the window, ap- 
 peared nothing more than a well-organized 
 piece of mechanism. Most Catholic families 
 then, as now, set apart a chamber for the sole 
 purpose of prayer ; but Lady Sydney, except 
 at the stated periods when custom and cere- 
 mony called her forth to meet her husband and 
 preside over her mansion, spent her hours in
 
 36 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 this gloomy and magnificent cell, and would 
 have formed no inapt representation of Night 
 within her deep and silent dwelling. 
 
 It was a strange coincidence that on that 
 very morning a single rose had been dropped, 
 perhaps by the hand of her attendant, into 
 a small crystal vase which stood upon a dark 
 cabinet ; the beautiful flower bloomed, though 
 sadly out of place, and its delicate pink, and 
 green leaves, smiled upon each other as gaily 
 as if it still reigned in the parterre, with the 
 fresh dew of heaven sparkling over it. Even as 
 the rose, pure, fair, and beautiful, remained 
 uncontaminated in that darkened chamber, so 
 was there one feeling, one solitary feeling, which 
 hallowed the cold bosom of the mistress of 
 Sydney Pleasance. Proud, stern, ambitious, 
 glorying in trampling beneath her feet every 
 softer and gentler emotion — a bigot without 
 religion, a woman without tenderness — there 
 was yet one feeling at her heart, one echo 
 within her breast, that rendered her, when 
 under its influence, altogether human — turned
 
 THE OUTLAW. 37 
 
 the marble statue into a breathing body 
 — sent the rich, but lagging blood, dancing 
 through her veins — kindled her lofty eye with 
 a bright yet with a mild influence — and soft- 
 ened her harsh voice into a pleasing music. 
 This miracle- worker was the spirit of maternal 
 affection. She had one son, whom she loved 
 — as — as — but why seek for similes.? here 
 they are not needed. She loved her son as 
 mothers only love, as they have loved since 
 the formation of the great globe itself, as they 
 will love until time passes into eternity. Be it 
 remembered, that in the same proportion as 
 was her coldness to others, so was her affection 
 for her child gifted with the tenderness of the 
 dove and the strength of the eagle. 
 
 Her marriage, unhappily for both her hus- 
 band and herself, had been, on her part, one of 
 interest and convenience. Born of an ancient 
 Catholic house, the days of the Protectorate 
 had brought to her family dismay and desola- 
 tion. Her father may be said to have died a 
 victim to his creed, for he sunk under the
 
 38 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 oppression of unmerited insult and calumny ; 
 and a youth on whom her young affections had 
 been poured out, with a zeal and truthfulness 
 peculiar to her lofty nature, was cruelly slain 
 in the civil wars. 
 
 Sir Everard, attracted by her extreme beauty, 
 and urged on by the kindliness of his own 
 nature, saw nothing objectionable in the creed 
 of the beautiful Catholic. " God,'" he argued, 
 with his usual simplicity, " would not have 
 created so exquisite a specimen, and doomed it 
 to eternal obliteration ; it was the fairest leaf in 
 the book of Nature, and he would cherish it 
 without heeding the reproofs he was likely to 
 encounter from Puritan priest or Puritan Pro- 
 tector. 
 
 The widowed mother of this proud girl was 
 in no state to scorn a Protestant alliance for 
 her daughter ; she urged, entreated, commanded, 
 and Lady Sydney became a bride, with the 
 full determination of proving to her mild hus- 
 band that, though compelled to be his wife, she 
 would follow the dictates of her conscience in 
 all spiritual matters.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 39 
 
 Sir Everard was too devoted to dispute her 
 will in anything; and it cannot be denied 
 there was about her that invisible power, often 
 so fatally exercised by the strong-minded over 
 the gentle, and which becomes a weapon and 
 not a stafF in the hands of a woman of strong 
 but unequal intellect : the very restraint put 
 upon her Catholic feelings during the Protec- 
 torate had the natural effect of making her 
 more secretly wedded to her faith, because it 
 was opposition without reason. She heard men, 
 cold, stern, and bitter beyond the power of 
 description, railing against the very qualities 
 for which they were themselves so disagreeably 
 eminent; while the elevated poetical imagery, so 
 prominent in the principles and practice of her 
 own church, appeared to her lofty and pre- 
 judiced mind of tenfold value when contrasted 
 with the plainness, which had degenerated into 
 absolute vulgarity and brutal coarseness, among 
 the ordinary followers of Puritanism. 
 
 Sir Everard extracted the honey, and his 
 lady the gall, from everything and everybody ; 
 yet good might have arisen to each out of this
 
 40 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 dissimilarity, inasmuch as the mingling of op- 
 posites may form the most desirable combina- 
 tion, had not Lady Sydney entertained a per- 
 fect contempt for her husband's simple tastes 
 and feelings. It is to be lamented that those 
 who judge harshly of human nature, too fre- 
 quently judge rightly; so many flaws, and 
 errors, were developed in the characters of 
 those whom the Baronet, in the warmth 
 and innocence of his heart, had installed 
 in his opinion as paragons of all earthly 
 perfection, that in a little time his good word 
 became a passport to the ill graces of his more 
 penetrating lady-wife; this, and numerous 
 other differences, produced a distrust — that first 
 step to disunion — which increased as they grew 
 older — for wisdom came not with their gather- 
 ing years. 
 
 Sir Everard's pursuits " kept him in in- 
 nocency," that innocency of heart and action 
 which a judicious woman would have treasured 
 above all earthly possessions. The covert and 
 weakly fosterage bestowed by Charles upon
 
 THE OUTLAW. 41 
 
 those of the Catholic faith, awoke, or rather 
 uproused Lady Sydney's dangerous ambition. 
 James succeeded his brother, and the cross and 
 cowl traversed our English streets triumph- 
 antly, 
 
 " The mass was sung, 
 And the bells were rung,'' 
 
 and Father Frank, who, under an assumed 
 name, had experienced the kind attention and 
 protecting care of the liberal master of Sydney 
 Pleasance, came forth in his proper character of 
 " a friar of orders — grey,'' but not grave; and 
 positively said Latin grace at the table of his 
 Protestant patron : he went farther, he even 
 hinted to Lady Sydney that Sir Everard might 
 be wiled over, and Mistress Rosalind compelled 
 to a change of faith ; to which the lady replied, 
 " that Sir Everard was hardly worth convert- 
 ing, and as to Mistress Rosalind, the time 
 would soon arrive vi^hen she must be domiciled 
 elsewhere, despite her husband's ridiculous at- 
 tachment to the base-born offspring of his dissi- 
 pated brother."
 
 42 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Reasons for her dislike to this innocent and 
 unfortunate girl will in time appear ; but hav- 
 ing mentioned the devoted attachment mani- 
 fested by Lady Sydney to her son, we must 
 make some note of the handsome and gallant 
 Captain Basil Sydney, the very flower and pink 
 of the army of King James. 
 
 Basil was the second son of this ill-assorted 
 marriage, and entered as a soldier during the 
 lifetime of his elder brother, whose naturally 
 weak constitution yielded at last to the pres- 
 sure of disease ; at fifteen the young ensign 
 found himself the heir of his house. How 
 blessed are the feelings of youth, how totally 
 unselfish ! this event occasioned him but one 
 sensation — sorrow for his brother's death. He 
 knew how deeply beloved of his father was this 
 boy ; even at that young age his observation 
 taught him that this parent was a being more to 
 love than to counsel with, and he determined to 
 pursue steadily the course upon which he had 
 entered ; his father's letters breathed the very 
 essence of tenderness.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 43 
 
 " Come to us,*" he said ; " why should you 
 continue with the unruly, when all the calm and 
 quiet of a virtuous and happy life await you 
 here ? You are now all we have upon earth to 
 love. It is a fearful thing to hear the gather- 
 ing storm, and to feel that our only one may 
 be exposed to its violence. You have never 
 been with us except during the intervals of 
 study, yet your mother's heart clings to you 
 as to nothing else in life; it is your name, 
 and your name only, can call the mantling 
 blood to her cheek. Come to us, my son ; old 
 Andrew mews your hawks with his wonted 
 care and skill ; the falcon, the tassel-gentle, the 
 jack-merlin, and that rare bird, the blood -red 
 rook from Turkey, would afford you sport ; 
 their reclaiming, dieting, and practice might 
 pleasure kings. The dogs, I am told, are in 
 good training ; and you remember that one of 
 the qualifications which Xenophon praises in his 
 Cyrus was, that he hunted wild beasts. I 
 speak not of my own recreations, which may be 
 all too simple for a youth whose first toy was
 
 44 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 a broad-sword ; albeit he who is gone loved the 
 hum of bird and bee, the music of the lark, 
 and the small note of the honest robin, with all 
 the purity of a naturalist — he was the more 
 fit for heaven !" 
 
 Such was the tone of the father''s letter : that 
 of the mother's was different. 
 
 " Much as I am afflicted, much as I miss 
 your brother, I would not have you, my son, 
 confined to a life of inglorious ease. I have 
 commended you earnestly to the care of those 
 holy men who are constantly about the person 
 of our blessed ruler, and I make no doubt you 
 will be preserved from the snares of the un- 
 godly, although your father insisted on your 
 being brought up in his creed ; the life and 
 actions of our good king (whose piety is thrown 
 over this still too much misguided nation, as a 
 shield for its defence) will doubtless train your 
 fine mind into the right path. God knows how 
 my heart yearns towards you, longs to embrace 
 you, dearest object of my torn affections ; yet 
 I would hear of you as creating greatness
 
 THE OUTLAW. 45 
 
 around you, and distinguishing yourself in 
 the extermination of your king's enemies." 
 
 It is impossible not to admire the spirit of 
 self-denial that influenced Lady Sydney's ad- 
 vice to her son : she would have him great, 
 would have him distinguished, though at the 
 sacrifice of those maternal feelings that sprang 
 more warmly than ever within her bosom. She 
 had also another object to answer — the wiling 
 her son from the faith of his father to the faith 
 of his mother. 
 
 Sir Everard had been firm and authoritative 
 on this point, if on no other ; and, conceiving 
 the honour of his family at stake, had watched 
 over the creed of his sons with a carefulness 
 which, despite his simplicity on ordinary mat- 
 ters, neither his wife nor her confessor could 
 frustrate or overcome. 
 
 Basil was now in the midst of a Catholic 
 camp, and Lady Sydney had agents ready and 
 willing to play upon the spirit and inexperi- 
 ence of the young and ardent soldier. What 
 would she not sacrifice for the certainty of his
 
 46 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 salvation ! She endeavoured to persuade her- 
 self that she would hail his death as a blessing, 
 were she satisfied of his departure in " the 
 true faith f as it was, her ambition, her ima- 
 gination, her pent-up feelings of affection, all 
 found something to dwell upon and cherish 
 in this idolized being. It is even doubtful, 
 had he remained at home, that he could have 
 obtained so great a hold over his mother's 
 affections ; for then there would not have been 
 a possibility of conveying him to the land of 
 Romance, and investing him with the attri- 
 butes and achievements of a hero. . Though 
 she thus panted for distinction for her child, 
 her tenderness increased ; every scrap of his 
 hand-writing found its resting-place within his 
 mother's bosom ; his miniature was the trea- 
 sure, next to himself, nearest her heart ; in 
 times of public tumult, she looked for his 
 being classed above all others, in feats of 
 arms ; and, in the piping times of peace, she 
 hoped he would shine forth the statesman of 
 his country.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 47 
 
 Interwoven with Lady Sydney's religious 
 enthusiasm, was a strong spirit of superstition ; 
 not alone that species of superstition which bends 
 the knee and hallows the relic, but a super- 
 stition of a much darker character — a seeking 
 after mysteries, a diving into unknown things ; 
 a thirsting for knowledge, which, if properly di- 
 rected, would have made her wise, but, as it was, 
 only rendered her wicked : every star that rose 
 silently and brightly to pursue its appointed 
 path in the blue heavens, to her seemed sent on 
 some especial embassy for the furtherance or 
 impeding of her puny ends and aims ; many 
 and long were her night watches, either from 
 the open casement of her oratory, or from a 
 ruined turret of a portion of the building, 
 which had fallen into picturesque decay ; and 
 often had she frightened the timid bird from 
 its nesting bough, and the no less timid hare 
 from its evening meal, while sweeping, dark, 
 lonely, and majestic, to whatever spot in her 
 domain presented the most unobstructed view 
 of some favourite planet, where, enveloped in
 
 48 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 the midnight folds of her velvet mantle — her 
 head drawn to its full and noble height — her 
 dark eye gleaming and flashing like a meteor 
 beneath her white and towering but contracted 
 forehead — her hands, now clasped, now ex- 
 tended, according to the alterations, clearly per- 
 ceptible to her eagle ken, in her planet's 
 course, Lady Sydney would watch and pray 
 with the spirit of a Pythoness, for whatever 
 she desired, were it for good or for evil ; thus, 
 communing with the mysteries of the starry 
 heavens by night, and steeping her spirit in 
 the darker observances of her church by day, 
 her character assumed a decided and peculiar 
 cast, sadly at variance with the feelings natural 
 to her age and sex. 
 
 Lady Sydney had concluded her morning 
 orisons ; chid her attendant in a low but 
 harsh tone, forasmuch as the precious chalice, 
 containing holy water, had been deprived of a 
 crown of thorns which she had placed upon it 
 as emblematic of the ruggedness of the world 
 and the cruelty of its ways ; and, finally,
 
 THE OUTLAW. 49 
 
 taking up her breviary, which she looked not 
 in, for her eyes were fixed on the features of 
 a beautiful Madonna that smiled dimly from 
 forth the gloomy niche wherein she was cur- 
 tained, when a low and particular knock at the 
 door intimated that Father Frank demanded 
 admittance. The worthy priest entered with 
 a more joyous expression of countenance than 
 was even his wont, happy-hearted though he 
 was ; a smile elongated his mouth, and lent a 
 brightness to his grey and sunken eyes, of 
 which every other feature of his jovial and 
 rubicund countenance partook. Nothing of 
 austerity was there about the good father — 
 nothing harsh — nothing naturally unkind ; he 
 was one of those who create a summer atmo- 
 sphere around them, and if the blight of pre- 
 judice occasionally fell on, and cankered the 
 kindly fruits of so goodly a temperament, it was 
 evidently the effect of education, not the na- 
 tural habit of his mind ; even Lady Sydney's 
 austerity could not conquer his free and happy 
 nature. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 After the usual morning salutations had 
 passed, Lady Sydney waited for the holy man 
 to convey the information of which he seemed 
 brimfull ; her eye questioned, though her lip 
 spoke not, and after some hesitation he com- 
 menced : — 
 
 " Sir Everard has gone forth earlier even 
 than usual, to entrap the nest of some un- 
 wary bird, for I encountered him and his sha- 
 dow near the river ; he may meet with a most 
 extraordinary, I may say joyful, surprise on 
 his return."" 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed Lady Sydney. " Have 
 you then, father, condescended to prepare such 
 a surprise for the lord of Sydney Pleasance ? 
 Have you procured him a goldfinch with three 
 wings instead of two ? Or," she added with a 
 smile that had more of the bitter than the sweet 
 in its composition, " has some one of the village 
 urchins presumed again to play upon the cre- 
 dulity of the chief of an ancient house, and 
 sent forth a pigeon painted as a crow, to induce 
 him to believe in a new race of — what do you 
 term them .^"
 
 THE OUTLAW. 51 
 
 " CorvL" 
 
 " And have they further presumed to con- 
 sult you on this impertinence ?" 
 
 Father Frank fidgeted on his seat in rather 
 an undignified manner, for the story militated 
 sadly against himself, inasmucli as he was 
 shrewdly suspected of having more to do with 
 the trick than was exactly in accordance with 
 his profession. 
 
 " Please you," he replied, after a pause, " it 
 has nothing to do with the tastes of Sir Eve- 
 rard," (the priest had discarded the title 'patron' 
 since the avowal of James's sentiments,) " and 
 yet it has ; he will be most joyfully astonished, 
 and I warrant me so will Mistress Rosalind 
 and your ladyship. 
 
 " Holy father," interrupted Lady Sydney, 
 with more than usual gravity, " I have lived 
 too long in the world to feel or testify much 
 astonishment at anything : I leave those sensa- 
 tions to girls and " 
 
 She paused for a title sufficiently dignified 
 to apply to her husband, whom she honoured 
 
 d2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNJVERSnV OF [LLINOfS
 
 52 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 for her own sake, and yet in accordance with 
 his pursuits, which she despised : and Father 
 Frank filled up the pause by drawing a letter 
 from his vest. It would be needless to describe 
 the change that passed over the countenance of 
 Lady Sydney ; in an instant her proud dignity 
 and coldness had gone ; she sprang from her 
 seat and extended her hand with the panting 
 eagerness with which a lover seeks to grasp the 
 reply to the first sonnet his heart has penned 
 to a beloved but absent mistress. Before the 
 flush of joyful anticipation had descended from 
 her brow, her lips paled and quivered, and the 
 naughty woman, but devoted mother, could 
 only articulate the words, " My son V^ when she 
 sank back into her seat, overpowered by the 
 hope mingled with anxiety which is inseparable 
 from the handwriting of a cherished object and 
 friend. 
 
 " Captain Sydney wrote to me, poor sinner 
 that I am ! fearing the surprise would be too 
 much for you and for my honoured friend, 
 saying, that now the tumult occasioned by the
 
 THE OUTLAW. 53 
 
 acquittal of the most heretical bishops had 
 somewhat subsided in the camp at Hounslow, 
 he had received leave of absence for a few days, 
 and that he would gladly avail himself of the 
 permission to visit a home from which he had 
 been so long estranged."" 
 
 Lady Sydney seized the letter, and pressed 
 it to her lips, ejaculating — " Now, the Almighty 
 be praised ! Blessed Mary, I thank thee ! My 
 beloved child !'' — and then eagerly perused its 
 contents. When she had ended, the expression 
 of joy and triumph had passed from her pale 
 brow, and she sat abstracted and absorbed, 
 until recalled to herself by a question from 
 Father Frank. 
 
 " Heard your ladyship how sped the Duchess 
 of Modena since her return from her pilgrimage 
 to Loretto, to offer up prayers that a succes- 
 sion might be given to the crown ? " 
 
 " No : how should I hear, holy father ; or 
 hearing, think now of it ? And yet I would 
 that the tone and feeling of his letter lacked 
 nothing."
 
 54 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Feeling," repeated the friar; "dear lady, 
 I see no lack of feeling in his letter. He was 
 ever full of feeling, from the time he used to 
 climb my knee, holding a linnet in his hand — 
 you remember the linnet — and saying so prettily 
 to the bird, that it might pull hair enough out 
 of my eyebrows to build it a nest." 
 
 " The spirit I could wish," continued Lady 
 Sydney, without noticing the reminiscence of 
 Father Frank, " is not in him ; and yet 'tis 
 very hard to judge. But I shall see him — 
 see him once more ; my noble, noble boy !" 
 
 She then again turned over the written page, 
 and, for the first time, her eye rested on the 
 date. She started, and grew pale ; then, fixing 
 her eye upon the friar's kind inexpressive coun- 
 tenance, she slowly enquired if her calculation 
 was correct, and if the present was the twen- 
 tieth of the month. He replied in the affirm- 
 ative. The lady rose from her seat, and paced 
 up and down the chamber without any visible 
 intent ; then taking from off the table a silver 
 bell, she rang it hastily. The summons was
 
 THE OUTLAW. 55 
 
 answered by a page in rich but sombre 
 livery. 
 
 " Tell Mistress Rosalind I would speak with 
 her." 
 
 " Please you, madam. Mistress Rosalind is 
 away with my master and Ralph Brad well after 
 some birds/** 
 
 " Father Frank,'' said the lady, when the 
 lad had withdrawn, " you have ever been a 
 faithful friend to my father's house. In the 
 days of your adversity it was remembered to 
 you ; in the days of your prosperity I trust it 
 will not be forgotten." 
 
 " Madam, you say what is just, and, by 
 God's blessing, you will not be disappointed." 
 
 " Mistress Rosalind " the lady paused ; 
 
 Father Frank filled up the sentence. 
 
 " Truly Mistress Rosalind Sydney is " 
 
 *' Call her not Sydney," interrupted the 
 proud dame ; *' call her not Sydney ; albeit the 
 name is heretical, 'tis a noble name, and should 
 not be degraded." 
 
 " Please you then, my lady, how is the
 
 56 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 maiden to be designated ? She has ever been 
 acknowledged the niece of his honour, Sir 
 Everard." 
 
 " Listen, sir. The terms of her reception 
 here are well known to you and to herself : the 
 illegitimate offspring of my husband's profli- 
 gate brother should never have sat at my table, 
 were it not that Sir Everard promised to that 
 brother on his death-bed, that he would nur- 
 ture and protect his child. She was, in con- 
 formity with that pledge, brought to England ; 
 transported with her nurse from an obscure 
 Irish cabin ; and suffered to remain as one of 
 the family, to dress and associate as if she were 
 of legal birth. I do not deny that there have 
 been times when my heart has yearned towards 
 the girl ; when I have almost wished " 
 
 The lady again paused, and the priest, who 
 knew her proud heart well, had ample time 
 to consider whi/ it was that, just as her son 
 was on the eve of arriving, she should talk and 
 think of Mistress Rosalind, who was nominally 
 left to the management of her uncle — which
 
 THE OUTLAW. 57 
 
 signified that she was left to her own direction 
 in all other things, so she accompanied him in 
 his morning rambles, and played his favourite 
 airs on the harpsichord in the evening. Sir 
 Everard cared but little how her time was 
 occupied during mid-day, if these pleasant ser- 
 vices were duly performed. 
 
 " Father," recommenced the lady abrupt- 
 ly, " hast any belief in omens — in the mys- 
 teries of the horoscope — in the sin of witch- 
 craft r 
 
 " Of a truth," replied the friar, perplexed 
 between the necessity for humoring his pa- 
 troness, and his desire to appear strong in 
 mind, " of a truth, the stars are not placed 
 in the heavens for nothing ; and as to omens, 
 I myself have heard the death-watch tick — tick 
 — tick ! — a very disagreeable noise, believe me, 
 lady, is that of the death-watch ; but all these 
 things can be overcome, exorcised, by the 
 blessing of the holy saints, and laid in the 
 Dead Sea without fear or molestation, save 
 to themselves." 
 
 d5
 
 58 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Lady Sydney looked contemptuously on the 
 poor priest ; her natural strength of mind was 
 perpetually warring with her superstition, and 
 she knew not upon which to cling — now 
 trusting to the one, now confiding to the 
 other. She regarded Father Frank more from 
 habit than esteem, and often convicted him, in 
 her own mind, of want of zeal ; she seemed 
 irresolute as to whether she might train him 
 to her purpose, yet without assistance she could 
 not accomplish the object upon which she was 
 bent. 
 
 " The lady of the priory of St. Mary's is 
 well known to you ?'''' 
 
 " She is ; and a more devout woman your 
 ladyship could not have named." 
 
 " I take it for granted that she remembers 
 me ?" 
 
 "It is not easy to forget so noble , a pa- 
 troness." 
 
 " She receives young ladies to complete their 
 education ? " 
 
 " She does — but she is very particular—
 
 THE OUTLAW. 59 
 
 only those of uncontaminated blood have ever 
 experienced the sanction of her countenance, or 
 the safeguard of her care." 
 
 " Think you," enquired the lady, somewhat 
 sternly, " that she would hesitate to receive 
 Mistress Rosalind, if I desired it ?" 
 
 " Send Mistress Rosalind to a convent !" 
 exclaimed Father Frank, in undisguised aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 " The young woman's education has been 
 too long neglected, and must be seen to. I 
 should have thought of it before — but no 
 time must be lost. Father, you must convey 
 Mistress Rosalind to St. Mary's this very day.'' 
 
 " Have you forgotten, madam, that she is 
 of heretical faith?" 
 
 " Are you afraid of her conversion ? Me- 
 thinks, good father, you lack zeal." 
 
 " Now Heaven forgive you, lady," replied 
 the friar, " it is an evil accusation ; — but the 
 laws are strict." 
 
 " This will render them less so," said Lady 
 Sydney, drawing a purse, heavy with gold,
 
 60 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 from her girdle, and placing it in the friar's 
 hand. " See that you tell the holy mother 
 I desire the girl to be treated with all cour- 
 tesy and kindness ; my only command is, that 
 she be not suffered to leave the convent under 
 any pretext whatever, without my permis- 
 sion." 
 
 " But, Sir Everard," hinted the meek padre. 
 
 " Sir Everard, sir, will agree with me in the 
 necessity of removing this child instantly. It 
 cannot but be known to you that more than 
 one of the court gallants will accompany my 
 son here ; think you that a maid, and such a 
 maid as Rosalind, under such peculiar circum- 
 stances, would be altogether safe, even under 
 this roof, while in the society of such as con- 
 stitute the camp and court of our blessed 
 King ? You know, holy father, that for a time 
 he was himself joined to Baal, and the worship- 
 pers thereof; and though, by much chastening, 
 he has arrived at a knowledge of the true 
 faith, and hath no more communing with evil, 
 yet his followers, young, gay, and thoughtless.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 61 
 
 can hardly be fitting companions for a modest 
 maiden." 
 
 " Then Mistress Rosalind only remains away 
 while they abide here ?" 
 
 Lady Sydney looked at the friar as though 
 she would have read his inmost thoughts, and 
 replied, " As she may desire. In one word, 
 father, will you do my bidding ? It is for 
 Rosalind's own safety ; and I promise that 
 after I have spoken to Sir Everard, he will 
 be in no way displeased. The girl is gone 
 with the baronet, as you know, on some fool- 
 ish excursion ; you can wile her away, either 
 in a boat, or in one of our carriages, it matters 
 not which ; only this — if she return here, there 
 will be crying, and leave-taking, and all that 
 farewelling which children love ; and in the 
 mean time my son may come ; and I tell you, 
 father, thei^ shall never meet /" 
 
 As the lady ceased, the door of her oratory 
 flew open, and Alice Murrough stood unbidden, 
 undesired, upon the threshold ; her eyes gleam- 
 ed with an expression of exultation, of tri-
 
 62 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 umph almost, which she did not endeavour to 
 conceal. 
 
 It was a singular picture, — both women 
 tall, stately, and powerful — both agreeing 
 in the same belief — both the victims of super- 
 stition — both proud of their descent, and 
 yet so dissimilar in bearing and in conduct. 
 The fire that lurked and lingered in the deep 
 eyes of the lady of Sydney Pleasance, and 
 which great events alone could kindle, burned 
 with a continued fierceness in the restless orbs 
 of Alice Murrough — a fierceness so intense that 
 it threatened its own extinction, and gave her, at 
 times, the appearance of a maniac. Both were 
 fearful women ; and as they stood, the one op- 
 posite the other, Father Frank, with a devout 
 cross, wished himself anywhere but where he 
 was. 
 
 " You said, ' they shall never meet,' "' re- 
 peated Alice more than once. " You said, lady, 
 ' they shall never meet ;"* but I say that what 
 is doomed is doomed; do yer best, do yer 
 worst, His all the same; ye cannot twist the
 
 THE OUTLAW. 63 
 
 rope, nor untwist it ; 'tis done at the birth by 
 a stronger hand than yours or mine. The will 
 of God be done ! The will of the blessed 
 saints be done ! So let it be ! so let it be ! 
 And where will ye send my child, who has 
 been twelve years this blessed day under your 
 roof. I know where you will send her — to 
 St. Mary's. Oh, that the poor maiden could 
 be content there ! but she won't — 'tis not her 
 rede — and the time will come, as surely as 
 there's a God in heaven, when those who look 
 down upon her will be glad to eat at her 
 table. Any way, I am content : is she not in 
 the Lord's keeping ? I thought her time was 
 done here when I heard who was coming ; and 
 many changes will come ere Rosalind Sydney 
 again crosses the threshold of Sydney Plea- 
 sance. But my everlasting curse, the ban 
 of a Murrough, shall be on you and yours if 
 you put that child's life in danger. Look ye, 
 Lady Sydney," and she advanced so close to 
 the haughty dame that she felt the hot breath 
 upon her cheek — " look ye, others can see
 
 64 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 sights, and dream dreams, and, maybe, spell 
 the heavens, as well as you : 'tis not unknown 
 to me what is in store for the dark-eyed maid 
 of the Boyne water. Many 's the prayer and 
 many ""s the charm awaiting her above that sky 
 that you strive to read (God enlighten you !) 
 with eyes of flesh. — Your blessing this fine 
 morning, holy father," she continued, turning 
 to Father Frank, apparently no longer mindful 
 of Lady Sydney's presence; and after sinking 
 on her knees before the priest, who gave the 
 required benediction as quickly as possible, 
 she stalked from the chamber without farther 
 ceremony or leave-taking of any sort.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 65 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The world had never taken so full note 
 
 Of what thou art, hadst thou not been undone ; 
 
 And only thy afflictions hath begot 
 
 More fame than thy best fortunes could have done ; 
 
 For ever by adversity are wrought 
 
 The greatest works of admiration ; 
 
 And all the fair examples of renown 
 
 Out of distress and misery are grown. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 *' Doubtless you are a brilliant fellow, and a 
 gay ; yet, methinks, for a court gallant, most 
 wonderfully silent. What would the merry- 
 makers of the court, or the jolly gallants of 
 the camp, say to this mood of melancholy ? 
 or King James himself, right noble, right 
 honourable as he is. You, his prime favourite, 
 the spirited Cuthbert Raymond — the flower of
 
 66 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 his Irish chivalry — the youth who, according 
 to his Majesty'*s compliment, would as soon 
 miss his sword as his mass — what, / say, 
 would he say to this murky humour ?"" 
 
 " Go on, go on, Captain Basil Sydney, go 
 on ; merry be your heart ; you are going home 
 — home, where a kind father, a tender mother, 
 will hail your coming as though it were a 
 saint's day or a festival — heigh-ho !" 
 
 '' Heigh-ho ! art in love, man ? It may be 
 with a Madonna then, or with thyself; but 
 no, no, thou art esteemed by others far more 
 than by thyself. What ails thee, Cuthbert?'' 
 
 " The cloud comes athwart the sky, yet 
 we know not whence it comes ; so cannot I 
 tell how or why is my gloom. I am not 
 often thus. Many a time have I cheered and 
 chased your evil thoughts, and made you 
 merry when those thoughts were sad. But 
 the times are troublous, the people discon- 
 tented ; the change of the great officers, where- 
 by the treasury was put into commission with 
 two professed Catholics amongst them — my
 
 THE OUTLAW. 67 
 
 Lords Bellasis and Dover, has increased that 
 discontent with the professors of your religion, 
 Basil ; and the appointment of my Lord Tyr- 
 connel to succeed Clarendon as Lord Lieu- 
 tenant of Ireland, though delightful for us, 
 is, methinks, sorry news for the Protestants.'" 
 
 " Granted, all granted, Cuthbert ; we poor 
 Protestants are likely to chew the bit, the 
 poisoned bit, that has been kept for our ex- 
 clusive use by the tender mercies of mother 
 church — grandmother church I should say. 
 But the scale will turn; see-saw, saw-see — so 
 goes the world." 
 
 " And then we shall bite no more, but be 
 bitten in our turn : pray ye, when this comes 
 to pass. Captain Sydney, look with compas- 
 sion on your poor friend Cuthbert, and suffer 
 him to buff your belt — to brighten your spurs 
 — to saddle your horse — that so he be not shot 
 or starved by the avenger !" 
 
 There was a peculiar tone in this speech, 
 and it was moreover accompanied by a smart 
 blow of the riding-whip to hasten his horse's
 
 6S THE OUTLAW. 
 
 speed, which made his cooler companion pause 
 ere he replied to it. 
 
 Cuthbert Raymond was an Irishman and 
 a Catholic, and yet the chosen, cherished friend 
 of Captain Sydney. He was brave, spirited, 
 and daring ; somewhat prone to contention, but 
 being in a quarrel, comported himself with a 
 wild generosity which might not unjustly be 
 termed romance. He was a great favourite 
 of the King^s, and consequently looked upon 
 with much jealousy by many of the Protestant 
 officers, the majority of whom were strongly 
 suspected of favouring the pretensions of Wil- 
 liam of Orange. 
 
 Cuthbert did not deserve either jealousy 
 or suspicion ; he was too brave, too reckless 
 of consequences to heed the signs and bear- 
 ings of the times. He loved the toil and din 
 of war, and the only thing that made him 
 complain of the tented camp at Hounslow 
 was the inglorious ease in which he lived. He 
 was in all things a most rigid Catholic ; his 
 lofty mind dwelt with enthusiasm on the rites 
 and mysteries of so poetical a religion, in sin-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 69 
 
 cerity and truth venerating the priesthood, 
 constant in his confessions, and giving, with 
 a liberality which deprived him of many of 
 the enjoyments of his age and ralik, to the 
 masses and ceremonies so pompously patro- 
 nised and shared in, by the weak-minded but 
 unfortunate James. 
 
 Basil Sydney was cast in a stronger but not 
 a better mould ; he cannot be described as a 
 fervent Protestant, yet he despised Romanism, 
 and Puritanism with a most perfect contempt. — 
 Much of the wit and gallantry of the court of 
 Charles haunted the camp of his Catholic bro- 
 ther, and though the more dissipated were not 
 men who could tarnish the high-minded Basil, 
 yet few of the young are altogether proof 
 against the perpetual and exciting jest which the 
 reckless level at good principles. Angry and 
 abashed they ever are at first — but it too fre- 
 quently happens that the sentiment of the poet 
 is reversed, and that those 
 
 " Who come to pray, 
 Remain to scoff.'' 
 
 Basil was, politically speaking, a decided
 
 70 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Protestant ; the t^erm to his ear was pregnant 
 with the freedom and glory of England. He 
 was proud of being an Englishman, and he was 
 proud of being a Protestant — he would have 
 died for the name, though of the faith he knew 
 but little : — the more it was endangered, the 
 more did he hold to it — with all the tenacity 
 of a generous mind, the stronger did he feel 
 its claims upon his support. He would have 
 given worlds that his mother had not been a 
 Catholic, for then he could have hated Catho- 
 licism with a more entire hatred : he was, per- 
 haps, overfond of bantering his friend Cuthbert 
 on the subject of fasts and feasts, and friars' 
 sanctity and the Pope's infallibility, and a host 
 of other superstitious rites or opinions; he 
 loved to draw him out — to excite his indigna- 
 tions for then, as he would afterwards say, he 
 appeared to the best advantage. Basil Sydney 
 would do this quietly and calmly, as if he were 
 in earnest; and Cuthbert Raymond would reply 
 hotly, after the fashion of his country — and 
 then, when the heat was over, laugh at his own 
 impetuosity.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 71 
 
 Basil, by his English prudence and fore- 
 thought, had extricated Cuthbert from many a 
 scrape, and Cuthbert had not spared the pow- 
 erful interest he possessed in the Catholic court, 
 for the benefit of his Protestant friend : thus, 
 the young men were united by that strong bond 
 of friendship — mutual service — and though 
 Basil was generally grave and thoughtful, there 
 were times, as we have seen, when he would 
 relax therefrom, and change character with his 
 more volatile associate. 
 
 " Cuthbert," replied Basil, after a long pause, 
 reining up his horse and drawing closer to his 
 friend, " that was said somewhat bitterly ; and 
 let us resolve, now that the politics of our coun- 
 try are in such a distressful condition, to have 
 no chafing together on religious subjects. The 
 time has been, and I fear me, is fast returning, 
 when every man's hand may be lifted against 
 his brother — when — but I will not anticipate 
 evil — upon its demon pinions it flies swiftly 
 enough, and is certainly winging its way to- 
 wards us. Only promise me, Cuthbert, that 
 you will not moot this point — and for the sake
 
 72 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 of the friendship I so dearly prize, I will be 
 equally careful."*' 
 
 Basil Sydney extended his hand, which was 
 eagerly grasped: — another pause ensued ; and 
 at a sudden turn in the bridle-path, the travel- 
 lers reached a point where the route they jour- 
 neyed was intersected by two cross-roads. 
 
 " A pretty puzzle," quoth Raymond, who 
 held the rank of major in his Majesty's 
 forces; " we have crossed so far from South- 
 ampton well, left Culverly in its proper place, 
 but this New Forest would puzzle a con- 
 jurer — vistas and paths — and here we are. 
 Now, gallant captain, your knowledge of the 
 locale would be useful." 
 
 " This turn," replied his comrade, " is new 
 to me. I have been so little at home that the 
 memory of the by-roads fades from my remem- 
 brance ; indeed, the foresters are ever chang- 
 ing the ways. Jemmings !" calling forward 
 one of the two servants who, well armed and 
 mounted, followed their masters, — " can you 
 tell which path we are to take .?"
 
 THE OUTLAW. 73 
 
 The attendant touched his cap a la militaire^ 
 and was as much at fault as his master, though 
 not by any means disposed to acknowledge it. 
 
 " There used to be a course somewhere 
 hereabouts, your honour, leading to the Plea- 
 sance, because I particularly remember that 
 by the old oak near Sydney park-gate lived 
 Cicely Maynard's mother. Sydney park must 
 be somewhat near, to my thinking — and the 
 smoke used to come curling — curling up 
 through the trees, just like the pufF out of the 
 great gun what we call ' Blue Bill,' — out of 
 the wrong side of a compliment to the Prince of 
 Orange, your honour. I always used to know 
 when Dame Maynard was a-cooking, by the 
 smoke."' 
 
 " Very likely," replied Captain Sydney ; 
 " but I do not see what the smoke has to do 
 with the case ; there used certainly to be a 
 road, different from either of those, Jem- 
 mings."' 
 
 " That's what I say, please your honour ; 
 not but what there's plenty of roads, and to 
 
 VOL. r. E
 
 74 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 spare: one — and the one we're on — and the 
 two cross ones, and those twenty or thirty 
 foot-ways made by the forest horses.", 
 
 " Diable !" exclaimed the impatient Irish- 
 man ; " let us take some road — all the roads, 
 rather than stand here." 
 
 *' Go all the roads at once !" laughed 
 Basil. 
 
 " If I could only see Cicely's — that is — 
 Dame Maynard's smoke," muttered Jemmings : 
 " I'll just go up that bit of a hill, your honour, 
 and reconnoitre." 
 
 As Jemmings turned his large, black steed 
 to the ascent, Cuthbert Raymond could not 
 avoid echoing Basil's laugh, though from a 
 different cause; the tall bony form of the 
 honest soldier was hard and perpendicular, 
 his massive shoulders appeared as if hewn out 
 of the solid rock, and his arms told of exceed- 
 ing strength ; his hair was long and grey, 
 giving a wild and picturesque appearance to 
 his high features. 
 
 " Behold !" exclaimed Raymond, " behold
 
 THE OUTLAW. 75 
 
 the votary of Cupid, nay, Cupid himself — ' Ve- 
 nus's runaway !' St. Patrick ! that such a fel- 
 low should be in love I — fancy, only fancy his 
 talking of hearts, and darts, and flames and 
 dames, and all the necessary tackle for love- 
 catching. Didst ever see this Cicely .?" 
 
 " Faith, I forget. Oh, yes, I did ; and 
 Jemmings, poor elephant, is faithful as a turtle- 
 dove ; a queer, honest, excellent fellow, attached 
 to Cicely Maynard — Dame Maynard's flesh- 
 pots — Blue Bill — as his long gun is called in 
 our company, and myself! I believe I have 
 named them as they stand in his affections."" 
 
 " Good ! But I suppose he has gained some 
 information from that gipsy-looking woman, 
 who has started almost supernaturally out of 
 the hill side ; by Jupiter, there ""s another, and 
 another, and . another ! see how he backs his 
 horse. I wonder is he afraid of an attack — 
 Ah ! here he comes — well, Jemmings ?'''' 
 
 " Please your honours, yon woman, whom I 
 take to be no other than queen of the band 
 of beggars which infest the country, says this 
 
 e2
 
 76 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 here road leads straight to Sydney Pleasance, 
 and that is a short way to Beaulieu." 
 
 " Where my sister is !" exclaimed Major 
 Raymond, as they continued their journey. 
 " I did not recollect she was so near to Sydney 
 Pleasance ; I must visit her, and that before 
 two days elapse." 
 
 " Is she handsome, Cuthbert ? If not, she 
 can be no sister of yours.'*'* 
 
 " Thanks for the compliment. Margaret is, 
 I believe, considered handsome ; but brothers 
 are bad judges of their sisters' beauty. She is 
 a clever, enterprising girl ; quick and ready- 
 witted, a brunette of the darkest hue, but, I 
 hear, a great favourite with her superior ; she 
 possesses a talent for the acquirement of lan- 
 guages, whether of ancient or modern usage ; 
 is also somewhat fond of the abstruse and oc- 
 cult sciences."" 
 
 " A philosopher in hood and kirtle !"" 
 
 " Not quite that either. Mag is a thorough 
 woman ; it is easy to know as much by the 
 kindling of her dark deep eye ; and, more-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 77 
 
 over, full of woman's vanities. I am told I 
 shall find her marvellously improved, and I 
 hope so ; two, alone, as we are in this weary 
 world, ought to be united in heart ; and, to 
 speak the truth, Mag was no great favourite 
 of mine as a child ; she was ever striving for 
 the mastery, and I used to delight in teazing 
 her ; however, she must be somewhat about 
 eighteen or nineteen now, and has learnt wis- 
 dom. Poor thing ! it was very sad to be 
 obliged to seek, among your cold English, a 
 refuge from the storms of her own land." 
 
 '' Cold English — well done, Cuthbert, well 
 done ! by Jove ! If we are not ready to light 
 and fire off, like you, we are cold English 
 directly. But what have Ave here ?'''' 
 
 Captain Sydney's enquiry was elicited by 
 the sudden appearance of a low antique tra- 
 velling carriage, of the calash description, open 
 at the front, but partially covered over by a 
 leathern head, from which depended a deep 
 curtain of the same material ; this curtain was 
 fringed and scolloped in the Spanish fashion ;
 
 78 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 and the machine was drawn by two handsome 
 Spanish mules, exactly at the pace which 
 suited their own convenience. This foreign- 
 looking carriage contained two persons, females 
 evidently, from the first glance obtained by our 
 gentlemen travellers. We say the first glance, 
 because a jolly, good-humoured friar, whose 
 stinted cowl served ill to cover his shaven 
 crown, and who jogged on leisurely by the 
 side of the Spanish mules, on a well-trained 
 ambling jennet, the moment he perceived the 
 gay cavaliers, who were about to cross his 
 path, caused the little cavalcade under his 
 guidance to halt, and applied himself with 
 much earnestness to tie and pin the fantas- 
 tic curtains of the carriage he so zealously 
 escorted. He succeeded in his exertions so 
 well, that, by the time the cavaliers arrived 
 at the spot where the party halted, there was 
 nothing to be seen below the covering ex- 
 cept the feet and farthingales of the fair oc- 
 cupants. 
 
 " Why, Father Frank ! my venerable and
 
 THE OUTLAW. 79 
 
 esteemed playfellow, how is it that, instead of 
 welcoming us, you stand there securing a cage, 
 lest your fair birds should fly far from your 
 paternal care ?"" 
 
 *' Ah ! Master Basil !'' replied the friar, the 
 tears of affectionate welcome glistening in his 
 eyes as he seized the hand of Captain Sydney, 
 " my old heart warms to you ; a thousand 
 welcomes would I have given you ere now, 
 but duty, master, duty — duty I say first, and 
 pleasure after. God bless you, my brave boy," 
 he added tenderly ; " go on your way, the sun 
 is sinking fast, and your lady mother waits your 
 coming." 
 
 '* Let me first present you to my friend — one 
 of your own triumphing faith, good father — 
 an Irish officer of right royal descent. Major 
 Cuthbert Raymond, this is ""' 
 
 A shriek, or rather a howl of frightful sound, 
 burst from the carriage as Basil spoke; the 
 curtain was torn from the fastening which the 
 friar had so cautiously, and, as he imagined, so 
 firmly arranged, and the singular face of Alice
 
 so THE OUTLAW. 
 
 jMurroLigh was protruded ; her eyes glared 
 wildly upon the young Irishman, who sat his 
 horse with an uncovered head, in compliment 
 to tile priest. 
 
 Having gazed but for a moment, she sank 
 back by the side of her young companion, who 
 evinced much astonishment by a single gesture ; 
 but at the same time, with that innate feeling 
 of propriety which never forsakes a modest 
 woman, shielded her face carefully from the 
 admiring look which Basil Sydney bestowed 
 on the countenance of his lovely but stranger 
 cousin. 
 
 Poor Father Frank was in a terrible dilemma; 
 he had mounted his jennet, and was obliged to 
 dismount again — no easy task for one of such 
 rotundity. He intreated his friend Basil to 
 liasten to Sydney Pleasance, while Basil endea- 
 voured, but in vain, to catch a second glimpse 
 of the fair maid's face; the priest called for 
 pins, and the serving-men who attended had 
 not wherewith to supply him ; he scolded Alice, 
 ■who, v^ith folded arms, continued rocking her-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 81 
 
 self backwards and forwards, not heeding in 
 the slightest degree his reproofs; finally, he 
 succeeded in stowing himself, as a wall of de- 
 fence, into the already well-filled machine, and 
 desired the coachman to drive on without any 
 leave-taking. 
 
 As the cavalcade proceeded unwieldily on its 
 way, the two officers and their servants drew 
 up on a little eminence to watch the movements 
 of the party that had most marvellously ex- 
 cited both their risibility and their interest. 
 
 " Never was poor priest in such a taking," 
 said Basil ; " the women must be a precious 
 freight. Didst mark the young one, Cuthbert 1 
 I never saw such eyes ; had that fair lady been 
 within the ken of King Charlie, methinks she 
 would not be bound for a nunnery, as this 
 young creature certainly is." 
 
 " No, faith ; your King, Basil, was no para- 
 gon of virtue. But who can that wild old 
 woman be "^ she seemed but ill inclined to play 
 duenna. Ha ! the priest can manage it no 
 longer ; out he gets ; — mark, how he wipes his 
 
 £ 5
 
 8^ THE OUTLAW. 
 
 brow, and shakes his head at us ; make feint to 
 gallop back. Well done, Basil, for now he 
 trundles in again ; and hark ! didst hear the 
 laugh that, borne upon the breeze, makes such 
 light and cheerful music? Oh ! but the laugh 
 of a young girl is sweet ! Not the bright 
 clarion of a victor's troop rings half so gaily on 
 the mountain''s side as the merry laughter 
 even of a milk-maid in her mirth ! How 
 often, Basil, in my boyish days, has my heart 
 danced to all the pleasant sounds that floated 
 through the air of my own Irish home. My 
 father loved the pomp, parade, and hospita- 
 lity of ancient times; the bugle hung with- 
 out his castle-gate, and was never thought to 
 sound too often ; the few who paid the rents, 
 which he called ' tribute,' might stay within 
 our halls for aye, and never hear a question as 
 to their departure. The rites and penances of 
 his religion were to him but as a relaxation ; 
 yet few had made more pilgrimages to far-off 
 lands. But Cromwell was no respecter of any 
 creed except his own ; and, truth to tell, my
 
 THE OUTLAW. 83 
 
 father did not hesitate to provoke his puritani- 
 cal displeasure. The dance — the festival was 
 ended ! There arose from our towers a dark 
 red flame, a smoke so dense that the bewildered 
 birds, which had dwelt amid the turrets and 
 trees, were suffocated on the wing, and fell un- 
 resistingly into the burning ruins. Our thralls 
 were hunted by the blood bay-hound, and " 
 
 The young man's eye grew dark, and his 
 lips became compressed, when Basil Sydney, 
 remembering well the tale of the ruined for- 
 tunes of the house of Raymond, laid his hand 
 kindly upon the arm of his impetuous friend, 
 and smiling in his face, besought him not to 
 enter the park of Sydney Pleasance with a 
 troubled brow. 
 
 " We have all suffered, and may suffer,"*' 
 observed the generous Sydney ; '' but let us not 
 create fresh troubles, by recapitulating the 
 evils that are past, or anticipating those that 
 are to come. Hark ! there is a sound that to 
 my ear is full as sweet as the light laughter of 
 a silly maid — listen ! there it is again — it is the
 
 04 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 blast upon my father's whistle, telling of his 
 home-coming from the excursions he so dearly 
 loves. He cannot be far off: perhaps, disdain- 
 ing the forms in which my mother so delights, 
 he is abroad on some moat or turret, watching 
 the first plume of our helmet, the first neigh of 
 our tired steeds. I cannot have forgotten the 
 answering note.""* 
 
 Basil bent his finger, and placing it to his 
 lips, blew a tone to the full as shrill as that 
 which they had heard : presently there was a 
 bustle, a sort of scuffling noise, amid some un- 
 derwood, and with a face full of unusual intel- 
 ligence, Ralph Brad well, attended by a pair of 
 currish-looking dogs, broke cover, and grasping 
 his young master's hand, covered it with kisses. 
 There was something so endearing, so affection- 
 ate, so unlike any demonstration of attachment 
 that Basil had ever before experienced, in this 
 unexpected salutation from the half-witted 
 Ralph, that it affected the young soldier almost 
 to tears. After the poor fellow's eyes had lite- 
 rally gloated upon his countenance, he turned
 
 THE OUTLAW. 85 
 
 to Major Raymond, and uncovering his matted 
 pole, saluted him with a rude grace that was 
 not the less pleasing, because the result of ge- 
 nuine kindliness. Having thus gratified himself, 
 he bethought him of his master, and raising a 
 loud and sudden whoop, sprang back into the 
 thicket. The note on the silver call was re- 
 peated much nearer than before, — springing 
 from a grove of youngling oaks, and traversing 
 the air like a thing of life, blending the sounds 
 of earth with the airs of heaven, in sweet and 
 graceful harmony. 
 
 At the park-gates the venerable Sir Everard 
 stood, or rather trembled, to meet his son — the 
 pure and delicious enjoyment of a happiness 
 which at that moment had no alloy. The old 
 man folded him to his heart ; the long grey 
 hair, which we have before mentioned as ac- 
 cording so well with his aged yet graceful 
 figure, mingled with the flowing and silken 
 curls that nature, and perhaps a little art, 
 sent waving after the most approved fashion 
 over Basil's shoulders.
 
 86 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 At the mansion, a more stately greeting 
 awaited the young men. Lady Sydney, who 
 thought, with the high and mighty of our own 
 days, that every demonstration of feeling is 
 a departure from necessary dignity, stood in 
 her robe of crimson velvet looped with jewels, 
 her stomacher of diamonds, and her richest 
 farthingale, ready to receive her son in the 
 entrance hall. Behind her, and at the proper 
 distance, the servants, male and female, were 
 ranged in their holiday suits, according to their 
 station ; and as the evening had nearly closed, 
 the interior of the castle hall was one blaze of 
 light ! It had a bright and beautiful effect ; 
 and Basil Sydney was gratified that his friend 
 should see their home to the best advantage. 
 
 Poor Cuthbert ! the remembrance of what 
 his own castle had been came forcibly upon his 
 memory ; and the knowledge that at that very 
 moment he had no dwelling but his tent, no 
 fortune but his sword, saddened and sobered 
 the joy which he would otherwise have expe- 
 rienced in witnessing the happiness of his friend.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 87 
 
 An ordinary observer would have said that 
 Lady Sydney supported the meeting well ; 
 but more than once did her quiet waiting-maid 
 (who knew her mistress better than any other 
 human being had ever done) move towards her, 
 though her head was erect and her eye tear- 
 less, lest her limbs should refuse their support 
 in that hour of triumphant trial, when the 
 youth, who had quitted her a tall and grace- 
 ful stripling, flew to her embrace a noble and 
 gallant officer, having won honour in a cause 
 to which her entire soul was pledged. She 
 bore it well — at first, holding her son firmly, 
 almost at arm's length, and spelling his fea- 
 tures with a delighted, a proud, a glorious 
 exultation, which only a mother can feel ; 
 then, having satisfied her soul with gazing, 
 to the astonishment of all beholders, she 
 swooned on his bosom, and was carried to 
 her chamber ere she recovered.
 
 88 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 '* A prison is a house of care, 
 A place where none can thrive." 
 
 " A PRISON is a house of care," saith our 
 motto. What then is a convent ? Alas ! if 
 a place of much innocent contentment, it is also 
 a place of deep mental trouble — a place where 
 many moods meet and do not mingle — where 
 there is much of that quiet usefulness which 
 pleases by gentleness rather than strength, and 
 much also of sullen discontent — the discontent 
 which is sullen from want of sympathy. 
 
 It never was our fortune to meet with a nun 
 who did not declare her happiness — assure 
 you that she was happy, quite happy, at the 
 very moment when her memory wandered to 
 the scenes she could never again behold.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 89 
 
 To the heart-broken such rehgious institu- 
 tions certainly offer a calm and tranquil refuge. 
 But merely passing the threshold of a nunnery 
 will not recall the wandering thoughts, or shed 
 the halo of contentment over a mind torn 
 and distracted by worldly struggles. Time 
 is the only cure for misfortune : we are loth to 
 shut our eyes on earth, while hope remains to 
 promise better days* 
 
 Nothing can be more at variance with nature 
 than the expectation that a young and joyous spi- 
 rit will dwell contentedly in a cloister. A free 
 bird, loving the wilds and mountains, will not 
 cage itself ; and surely of all creatures that ever 
 danced with the dew, or chased the sun-beam, 
 Rosalind Sydney was the least fitted for such 
 restraints as are imposed by convent laws and 
 regulations : she clung to Father Frank as if 
 he were the only friend she possessed on earth ; 
 and, despite the dissimilarity of their religious 
 creeds, the padre loved her as she were (with 
 reverence be it spoken) his own child. 
 
 St. Mary's priory, as it was called, was in
 
 90 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 truth a modern dwelling, compounded from 
 a portion of Beaulieu Abbey which was origi- 
 nally built for the abbot's lodging, and converted 
 into a family seat after the Dissolution. Lady 
 Mary Powis, the prioress, had resided for some 
 time in a Spanish convent, but when the reli- 
 gious opinions of James were so bruited abroad 
 as to hold out hopes which the Romanists had 
 not dared to indulge in for many years, she 
 returned to her beloved country, accompanied 
 by a few nuns, anxious to establish a species of 
 convent-school somewhere near the New Fo- 
 rest. Nothing could suit her purpose better 
 than the vicinity of Beaulieu ; all the legends 
 relating to its great sanctity were eagerly 
 revived ; in less than six months the estab- 
 lishment had wonderfully increased ; and had 
 the Catholic dynasty continued, St. Mary's 
 priory would have been pointed out to this 
 day ; but its walls now moulder amid the 
 ancient and well-known ruins of Beaulieu ! 
 
 The young ladies who were taken into the 
 priory for the purpose of acquiring the accom-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 91 
 
 plishments in which all foreign nuns excelled, 
 were subject to considerable restrictions, and 
 yet were lodged and boarded separately from 
 those who had taken the veil, whether black or 
 white, and who were consequently liable to the 
 severest regimen. Father Frank expatiated 
 warmly to the abbess on the talents of his young 
 friend, and moreover desired that a bed should 
 be provided for Alice Murrough in or near the 
 sleeping cell of her young lady. This was a sad 
 infringement on the convent rules ; but Lady 
 Sydney's purse was a charm — an "open sesame I' 
 in all points upon which the friar deemed it 
 prudent to negociate. He left Rosalind the 
 next morning, to return to Sydney Pleasance, 
 a distance of only fifteen miles, (which took 
 his lady's favourite mules at least six hours to 
 accomplish,) with an opinion that she might 
 be tolerably happy there for a time, but that 
 she would never be a nun ! 
 
 " And how did ma colleen sleep ?" enquired 
 Alice of her nursling, the next morning ; " how 
 did the air of the holy place agree with her ?
 
 92 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Sure it's myself that hasn't known such a night's 
 rest for many a long day, in spite of the weak- 
 ness that came over me in the beautiful carriage, 
 which, I dare say, my lady thought it a great 
 honour to let such a poor mortal as me ride in. 
 Ah ! 'poverty parts good company.' The blood 
 in old Alice's veins is more ancient than that in 
 her own. I could count pedigree with her back 
 to the Conqueror, as he 's called ; not that I Ve 
 anything very particular to say against him ; 
 he was civil enough to me, and good right had 
 he, and I with him in the wars abroad and 
 at-home." 
 
 " You, Alice !" 
 
 " Yes, ma vourneen, me, or what 's all one, 
 my ancestors — my great-grandfathers. It's 
 my belief sAe's no oulder than Queen Elizabeth 
 — the bitter heretic to me and mine! the dark- 
 hearted, red-headed, murdering Jezebel !" 
 
 '' For shame, Alice ! you must not abuse our 
 glorious queen in such a fashion. Here, help 
 me to fasten on this quaint dress, which the 
 pupils are doomed to wear. It is too bad that
 
 THE OUTLAW. 93 
 
 I must band back all my beautiful curls — my 
 sunny curls, as my dear uncle used to call them ; 
 and yet, methinks, it well becomes that dark 
 girl they named as Sister something, something 
 — Raymond." 
 
 "Raymond !" interrupted Nurse Murrough ; 
 " Raymond again ! Holy Mary ! is this the 
 convent where Margaret Raymond has been 
 lodged r 
 
 " Margaret was the name, of a certainty. 
 But, dear Alice, what is there in the sound of 
 Raymond so appalling, that you change when 
 it is mentioned ?" 
 
 "It''s all working," continued the nurse; 
 " all, all, working its own way ; and God will 
 
 bring it about in his own time " 
 
 " You got into a little fit," observed Rosa- 
 lind — " you got into a little fit yesterday when 
 we met those gallant gentlemen, who dear 
 Father Frank was afraid would eat us up at 
 a mouthful ; and now you are going to get 
 into another, methinks. And so, you tell me 
 my aunt sent me from Sydney Pleasance be-
 
 94 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 cause she would not have her son fall in love 
 with his poor cousin ! The lady might have 
 known me better : even if her proud and Syd- 
 ney-looking boy should have considered me 
 worthy his regard, I have, I hope, too much 
 spirit to degrade myself by suffering the love- 
 making of one who is taught to believe me his 
 inferior. God — God help those whom the 
 world calls base-born ! How bitterly, how 
 very bitterly do they suffer for their parents' 
 sin ! Behold, I am young, not foul to look 
 upon ; of a spirit, though I say it, generous and 
 frank ; and I am sure my heart has but one 
 feeling, and that is, kindness to the whole hu- 
 man race — I would not harm a worm. I have 
 gone about my uncle's mansion for twelve long 
 years ; I have marked the scorn upon my proud 
 aunt's brow ; I have watched late, and awoke 
 early, to pleasure her whose eyes seemed 
 frozen when they rested on me ; and yet, 
 Alice, in that great, great house, only my 
 uncle, and the poor dumb things — the hound 
 and the small birds, whom I fed daily, only 
 those truly loved me."
 
 THE OUTLAW. 95 
 
 Old Alice groaned deeply, and hid her face 
 in her hands. 
 
 " Do not weep, nurse; you could not help 
 it. And you — you loved me, Alice. Did I 
 forget to say you loved me.? — then am I an 
 ungrateful wench. And Father Frank, the 
 padre, he too loves me. Well, then — there 
 is my uncle, one ; you, two ; the padre, three : 
 Branno loves me better than the padre — well, 
 then, Branno, three : the padre, four ; and the 
 small birds, countless as the stars in heaven ! 
 Then, after all, I am beloved by many ; why 
 should I repine .? And those who love me, 
 love me for my own sweet sake : do they not, 
 nurse V 
 
 Still Alice spoke not ; and the affectionate 
 girl looked on her with an expression half play- 
 ful, half pouting. 
 
 " You are as fitful, nurse, as an April day. 
 For shame ! You came hither to prevent my 
 being dull, and yet you help to make me miser- 
 able ! Why is this r 
 
 " You have spoken the truth now, Miss 
 Rosalind, anyway,'' replied Alice at last, with-
 
 96 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 drawing her hands from her prominent features; 
 " you have spoken the truth now, as you have 
 ever since you could spake at all. And now 
 tell me, if I turned out a traitor and deceived 
 you ; if I was a bad, black, bitter woman — as 
 bad, as worthless, as ungrateful as that wicked 
 queen, could you love me still ?^' 
 
 Rosalind, whose excited feelings a few mo- 
 ments before almost required the aid of tears 
 to save her heart from bursting, was, in the 
 happy changefulness of youthful spirits, in- 
 clined to laugh at the pertinacity with which 
 Nurse Mur rough took occasion, or, more pro- 
 perly speaking, made occasion, to lug in Queen 
 Elizabeth on all fitting or unfitting pretexts. 
 
 " You will never, I am sure, nurse," she 
 replied, " be either bad, black, or bitter, nor a 
 bit like your favourite queen in any way ; so 
 there is no danger of my loving you less, and I 
 cannot easily love you more."*" 
 
 Nurse Murrough shook her head mournfully, 
 and, after a pause, said: " It's not time yet ; 
 but the time will come when, may be, those
 
 THE OUTLAW. 97 
 
 bright red lips may curse me in my grave. Ohl 
 more is the pity — more is the pity ! We know 
 not what we may come to : we are all born, 
 but we know not how we may die. Oh ! the 
 pity, the pity ! God keep us and preserve us ! 
 And now tell the truth to me, darling, and say 
 which of the fine young gentlemen we saw yes- 
 terday you liked best .?" 
 
 " I will tell you, nurse," replied Rosalind 
 blushing, " when I know myself: I did not 
 like either exactly, and yet I liked them both. 
 The Sydney seemed to me the gentlest, and 
 by no means haughty, more like my uncle ; 
 but the other was the finest, the most gallant 
 of the two ; though, sooth to say, I hardly 
 looked, for 'tis not wise in maidens to be 
 
 forward. There, there is "" 
 
 " Margaret Raymond," exclaimed Alice, 
 pointing from the window where they stood 
 to a tall, slight, exquisite figure, that with 
 a firm but almost martial step walked beneath 
 the shadow of an avenue of lofty limes whose 
 young gray leaves fluttered in the morning sun. 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Mary Mother ! how like ! only more 
 lovely, far, far more lovely. Ay, there it is, 
 the short quick turn of the head, the rapid 
 step. — Holy Mary, pray for our sins I"" 
 
 " Yes, how beautiful are her features, so 
 cut and chiseled," said Rosalind soliloquizing, 
 " I could fancy her like Basil Sydney, only 
 her expression is more — what shall I say, 
 I know not what. There, she sees and 
 salutes us."" 
 
 At this moment the little scene in the con- 
 vent garden would have been worthy an artist'*s 
 pencil. Margaret Raymond had caught sight 
 of Rosalind as, leaning from the high and 
 narrow window, she stooped forward to point 
 out the fair Irish maiden to her nurse. 
 
 Margaret was taller and more delicatel}?^ 
 formed than Rosalind; her features, however, 
 had a wild and strange expression, particularly 
 when she smiled ; but Rosalind's smile was 
 one of unrivalled sweetness. Still as she stood 
 there, kissing her hand, and returning the 
 salutation of her new friend, there was some-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 99 
 
 thing dignified in her air and manner ; her 
 head was thrown back ; and though her raven 
 hair was tightly banded beneath a crutch or 
 cap of the finest lawn, and her dress of 
 black silk confined by a broad black leather 
 belt round her slender waist, — a tiring by 
 no means calculated to set off her figure to 
 the best advantage, yet the sweeping folds 
 of the robe, descending to her feet, lent a 
 grace and ease to her movements which she 
 might have lacked had her drapery been more 
 studied. 
 
 " The blessed saints be about us ! "* exclaim- 
 ed the nurse, after looking at her for some 
 minutes ; " to think of my living to see you 
 two meet! You both — whom I nourished 
 here," and she crossed her arms on her 
 withered bosom — " you both !" 
 
 " Sister Rosalind," said Miss Raymond from 
 beneath the window, " the first bell has sound- 
 ed for matins, and we shall be looked for ; shall 
 I come to your dormitory, and show you our 
 ways ?"*' 
 
 f2
 
 100 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Pray do,'"* replied Rosalind. " Did you 
 really mean, nurse,'' she continued, overcome 
 with astonishment, " that you fostered that 
 young lady ?" 
 
 " God forgive us our sins ! I did." 
 
 " But you never told me this before." 
 
 " What need ? 'twas but for three months. 
 She is older than you." 
 
 " I shall love her now with all my heart," 
 exclaimed Rosalind warmly ; " she shall be to 
 me indeed a sister." 
 
 " Now, God forbid!" replied Alice: " good 
 blood nor a friendly hand can never be between 
 you two." 
 
 " I have heard that all the Raymonds 
 were of the highest honour." 
 
 " And so they were — who ever doubted the 
 honour of a Raymond .^" 
 
 '* Did you not just now say, that good blood 
 could never be between us ! Alas ! then, she 
 will despise me ; she too will look upon my 
 
 birth and loathe me, for that I am a 
 
 I cannot speak the hateful word."
 
 THE OUTLAW. 101 
 
 Alice, actuated by a sudden impulse, sank 
 upon her l<nees before her foster-child, and 
 with clasped hands and a sparkling eye, and 
 all the over-wrought feelings of Irish eloquence, 
 besought her, for the love of all the saints, 
 never to allude again to the circumstance of 
 her birth ; at least not until she herself men- 
 tioned the subject, or led to it in a way she 
 could not misunderstand. " If you do, you 
 may as well put a knife to my throat, and 
 kill me at once, and what good would that 
 do, a lannan, to anybody in the wide world ? 
 and I that have so much to tell before my 
 death. Now promise, promise, as you hope 
 for mercy hereafter for me or for yourself.'"' 
 
 Rosalind did as she was bidden ; not with- 
 out avowing her astonishment as to what 
 could possess her nurse, and occasion such 
 
 fitful fancies. 
 
 She had scarcely given the pledge when 
 
 Margaret Raymond tapped at the door, and 
 
 entered, imprinting a cross and a kiss on the 
 
 brow of the Protestant lady.
 
 102 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 After a few brief salutations, Rosalind in- 
 formed her that they had both in their infancy 
 been fostered by the nurse, whom she pre- 
 sented to her ; but poor Rosalind could almost 
 have wept at the cutting observation Miss 
 Raymond made. 
 
 " And it was with you then I caught the 
 small-pox, which made my mother remove me 
 from your care, when I was only three months 
 old ? I have reason to know it, for I still 
 retain some slight, very slight traces of the 
 disease." 
 
 " I am sure poor nurse will be grieved to 
 hear that," observed Rosalind, hardly knowing 
 what to say. 
 
 " And you are really the woman who went, 
 my mother said, nobody knew where^ with 
 some strange child V 
 
 " Peace !" exclaimed Nurse Murrough, with- 
 out any of the show of courtesy which on 
 ordinary occasions distinguished this remark- 
 able woman. '* This is the child that I took 
 from the high nettles and prickly furze that
 
 THE OUTLAW. 103 
 
 now flourish where Castle Raymond stood. 
 Have you, Miss — Miss Raymond, anything 
 to say against her P^** 
 
 " What a strange, wild woman !" exclaim- 
 ed Margaret, passing her arm with somewhat 
 of a patronising air through that of poor 
 Rosalind, who stood by her side trembling 
 and blushing between shame and pride. — 
 " How very odd that we should meet here ! 
 but we must go to matins — there sounds the 
 second bell." 
 
 " I cannot go to matins," replied Rosalind ; 
 " I am a Protestant." 
 
 " A Protestant !" repeated Margaret : then 
 added sternly — " what do ye here ?''"' 
 
 " In truth I hardly know," replied the poor 
 maiden ; " but this I know, that even Lady 
 Sydney never required me to attend her ser- 
 vices." 
 
 " Lady Sydney, of Sydney Pleasance ! why 
 what is she to you i^" 
 
 *' My uncle's wife," replied Rosalind, with 
 dignity.
 
 104 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " I asked," observed Margaret, as if consci- 
 ous that the abruptness of the question de- 
 manded some apology, '* because my brother's 
 chosen friend is Captain Basil Sydney." 
 
 " He is with his friend then,'' said Rosalind 
 with great naivete^ "for I know they arrived yes- 
 terday at Sydney Pleasance. You had better 
 not let my declining to attend any matins but 
 my own prevent your going : the bell has 
 ceased to sound." 
 
 Margaret surveyed her young companion 
 with a scrutinizing look — it was the look of a 
 moment, and yet it was dark, deep, and pene- 
 trating. 
 
 ** And are you really serious in saying you 
 will not go to matins ? and are you wise in de- 
 fying our holy religion within one of its chosen 
 sanctuaries .?" 
 
 " I am quite serious as to my non-attendance, 
 and I too much venerate my own belief to 
 defy or insult the belief of any other human 
 being. I asked the padre, and he said I need 
 not. Nay, Miss Raymond — *"
 
 THE OUTLAW. 105 
 
 " We call each other sisters here/' inter- 
 rupted the young lady ; " I call you sister 
 Rosalind, and you must call me sister Mar- 
 garet. "* 
 
 " Very well ; but I was only going to ob- 
 serve that I do not think the lady mother will 
 object to my retirement ; at least, I hope not : 
 for no earthly power shall ever make me sub- 
 scribe to that which, according to my belief, 
 would be — " Idolatry, she was about to say ; 
 but the feeling which prompts a delicate mind 
 to forego its own impulses, lest they should 
 wound the feelings of another, prevented her 
 from concluding the sentence, and the deep 
 blush which mantled to her cheek told that 
 she had nearly committed a fault which her 
 innocent nature would have called a crime. 
 
 " I understand,'' replied Margaret ; " you 
 mean to say you would suffer martyrdom 
 sooner than comply with a simple observance, 
 in which there can certainly be no harm. What 
 a pretty martyr you would make, sister Rosa- 
 lind, with those soft eyes and rosy blushes ! 
 
 F 5
 
 106 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Well, give thee good day, fair lady ! I did 
 but invite ye; and let me advise that you give 
 not forth your reasoning powers on error here : 
 there are cells and stores of cells that look not 
 Gilt on the green sward or the tall trees. Are 
 you too a Protestant ?" 
 
 " No, she is not," replied Rosalind, seeing 
 that Alice was in no degree inclined to reply 
 for herself; " she is a firm, and I can answer 
 for it, a zealous Romanist. Believe me, young 
 lady, that my heart knows no distinctions of 
 creeds in its affections ; I have reasons good and 
 holy for loving your church, but that hinders 
 not that I honour more my own." 
 
 " At your pleasure, sister, if I may so call 
 you. Now adieu." 
 
 She hurried from the little room, and was 
 followed by Alice, who was but too happy to 
 mingle with the domestics of St. Mary's priory 
 in their morning''s devotions. Poor Rosalind 
 seated herself at the little window, and took from 
 out her pocket a very small Bible that had 
 been her uncle's gift ; it was bound in red vel-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 107 
 
 vet, edged and clasped with embossed gold, of 
 exceeding value as regarded its outward deco- 
 rations, but not valuable on that account only 
 to the single-minded girl. She opened the 
 volume at an appropriate text of Scripture, — 
 the text, in which so many have found com- 
 fort, when despair only seemed present with 
 them. Her mind had, from a very early pe- 
 riod, even in her gayest and most thoughtless 
 moods, received a subduing bias from the study 
 of the sacred writings ; it had not been often 
 that she stood in need of consolation, but she 
 had never sought without finding it, in those 
 beautiful, and pure, and perfect sentences, 
 which command and secure confidence. 
 
 " Come unto me all ye that labour, and are 
 heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 
 
 She read it again and again, and it strength- 
 ened her faith and increased her hope, so that 
 when she closed the book she was no longer op- 
 pressed by that heart-heaviness — that sorrow 
 over which reason hath no influence — which 
 had nearly bowed her gentle spirit to earth.
 
 108 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 It was no wonder that she felt sad, exiled 
 from her uncle's house for no fault of hers, and 
 thrown unprotected into the centre of a religion 
 which had lately manifested such a persecuting 
 spirit. What could even her uncle do, if by 
 her mild but steady refusal to join in a wor- 
 ship she so perfectly condemned she should 
 not only rouse the anger of mother church 
 against herself, but against him. She felt like a 
 hapless bird entangled in the fowler's net, con- 
 scious of its imprisonment, but unable to devise 
 means of escape, or to discover what its fate may 
 be. Poor Rosalind ! She had not sat long in 
 meditation when one of the lay sisters com- 
 manded her to the presence of the superior; 
 and after traversing innumerable galleries and 
 passages she found herself alone in a large 
 and noble chamber, the private room of the 
 abbess. 
 
 There was nothing here to call back the me- 
 mory of her aunt's oratory ; all was solemn and 
 fitting, and yet Rosalind could not think it 
 gloomy. There was a crucifix, a JNIadonna, nu-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 109 
 
 merous relics, books of devotion, missals, pic- 
 tures of holy men and women, a silver vase, or 
 rather bowl, upon a stand of the same valuable 
 metal, containing holy water ; and in it was im- 
 mersed a sprig of faded myrtle, said to have 
 been cut from a tree growing on Mount Olivet; 
 then there were shrines, and figures, and curio- 
 sities arranged with skill ; and above all, in a 
 massive cage, were two small birds, rare at the 
 period we treat of, but now common in Eng- 
 land, birds of the paroquet species, — we know 
 not what they were called in those days, but at 
 present they are termed " love-birds,'*'' — those 
 creatures sitting closely to each other, and 
 moving about as if they were two separate 
 bodies but actuated by the same spirit, soon 
 interested Rosalind, and forgetting convent, 
 abbess, and all, she eagerly amused herself by 
 feeding them from out their gilded trough. 
 As she was thus engaged, the lady of St. 
 Mary's priory entered, and stood beside her ere 
 the maiden was aware of her approach. 
 
 *' Your uncle is learned in foreign birds,*"
 
 no THE OUTLAW. 
 
 was her kind observation to the timid girl; 
 " has he any of this kind ?'"" 
 
 " I believe not, madam," replied Rosalind. 
 " I never saw any of the parrot family so 
 small." 
 
 The abbess caressed her birds, who knew 
 and depended on her kindness, for they crept 
 up her arm with that perfect confidence which 
 kindness alone inspires. Rosalind, who had 
 not before seen her, had leisure to observe that 
 she was a -fair, pale, slender woman, whose 
 cheeks still retained some of the freshness of 
 youth, and whose eyes beamed with a mild, 
 tranquil lustre, beneath a long fringe of light, 
 very light brown lashes ; her hand was of that 
 delicate form and colour, the unfailing index of 
 gentle blood ; and her carriage, probably from 
 her exalted rank at St. Mary's, was of more 
 stateliness than well accorded with her blonde 
 appearance ; she was calm and graceful in her 
 movements, and, taken altogether, was consi- 
 dered by Rosalind as more fit to preside in a 
 drawing-room than a cloister.
 
 THE OUTLAW. Ill 
 
 Rosalind had hitherto but one idea of Catho- 
 licity in woman-kind, and that was gloom, 
 dismal settled gloom, a gloom more horrid 
 than she could bear to think upon ; yet here 
 was the abbess of St. Mary's priory talking to 
 her in a soft voice, caressing her birds, and 
 looking like a kind and amiable gentlewoman ! 
 She could hardly believe her senses. 
 
 " I sent for you, young sister,'' said the lady, 
 seating herself in a chair of sundry curious 
 carvings, the back of which was surmounted by 
 a ball and cross — *' I sent for you, to inquire 
 why you were not with your fellow pupils this 
 morning at matins ; they are celebrated in my 
 private chapel, not in the public one. Why 
 came you not .?" 
 
 '' Madam, I thought Father Frank had in- 
 formed you that I am a Protestant..?" 
 
 " There are other maidens here of the same 
 faith, yet they never hesitate to perform with 
 us their duties. God knows how earnestly I 
 desire that all may be gathered into the same 
 happy fold : yet would I use no compulsion —
 
 112 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 only thus much — I cannot countenance insub- 
 ordination. I cannot force you to pray as we 
 do, but 1 may surely expect that one whom I 
 desire to love as my own child would }'ield to 
 my request so much as to kneel when we 
 kneel, and join the choir that hymns God's 
 praise.*" 
 
 This affectionate appeal was almost too much 
 for the firmness of Rosalind ; she could endure 
 or contend against the storm better than the 
 sunshine ; she was prepared for reproof, but 
 not for gentle admonishing. The abbess, kind, 
 as she surely was, and a pattern of the virtues 
 she enforced, was also well skilled in human 
 nature; she had not only read its full and 
 varied volume, but she had the advantage of 
 time and solitude to digest and improve her 
 observations. 
 
 The painter associates with his fellow men ; 
 he walks abroad upon the earth, and drinks in 
 the glories and the beauties of the beautiful 
 world from a charmed and holy chalice ; but it 
 is in the secrecy and solitude of his closet that
 
 THE OUTLAW. 113 
 
 he perfects his conceptions. So it is with those 
 who would read the map of the human mind ; 
 they may skim the fair title at a glance, but 
 they must deeply meditate to unravel its many 
 mysteries, its many workings, and its intricate 
 details. Some are more especially difficult to 
 expound ; the elements of good and evil are so 
 blended that it requires time and opportunity 
 to draw forth the preponderating quality ; but 
 the trouble is not ill bestowed, for large is it, 
 and rare and valuable are the pages, of the 
 book of life — and each is unlike the other. Of 
 a truth it is a mighty mystery, which we may 
 read now, and therefrom derive much pleasure 
 and much pain, but which we shall fully un- 
 derstand When ? Hereafter. 
 
 The prioress saw that kindness was the key 
 to Rosalind's heart, and she was more inclined 
 by constitution, if not by habit, to traverse 
 the gentler than the rugged way. Though 
 nature had certainly intended the Lady Mary 
 Powis for a different destiny, she was much 
 beloved by the nuns, many of whom, com-
 
 114 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 ing from foreign convents, considered her far 
 more lenient than any abbess they had met 
 with before ; while the pupils, from whose edu- 
 cation they derived considerable emolument, 
 loved her with a devotedness which only youth 
 bestows. 
 
 The lady waited long for the maiden's an- 
 swer, and then repeated with continued gentle- 
 ness the arguments she had at first but shghtly 
 urged. Rosalind gained at length the power of 
 reply, and told the superior, with a firm voice 
 and a collected manner, that still she was un- 
 convinced as to the propriety of feigni7ig one 
 thing, and feeling another ; she assured her that 
 she w'ould on all points, save the one, be meek 
 and obedient ; and turning the tables with more 
 skill than the abbess thought she possessed, 
 she boldly asked how she would feel if obliged 
 to conform to the rites and ceremonies of the 
 Protestant faith ? 
 
 In a moment the lady prioress assumed the 
 tone and dignity of her station ; she said, that 
 Rosalind must be aware she had condescended
 
 THE OUTLAW. 115 
 
 to reason where she had a right to command, 
 and that it was her duty to forbid her fellow 
 pupils to hold any commune with her; but that 
 her society must be limited to the old Spanish 
 nuns, who worked tapestry, and taught the 
 gittern and harp. 
 
 Rosalind burst into tears ; she had seen two 
 of these venerable ladies the night before, and 
 they looked severe and ugly; still there was 
 that air of kindness and consideration about 
 the superior, that the poor prisoner would 
 have pleaded not to be excluded from all so- 
 ciety, had not at the moment four or five nuns 
 burst open a door leading to a long passage 
 communicating with what was termed the pub- 
 lic chapel : they crowded round tlie abbess like 
 a flock of frighted sheep ; others speedily fol- 
 lowed ; and their mingled voices, uttering cries 
 and prayers, together with a confused noise, 
 which appeared to come from the outside, 
 gave the prioress sufficient cause for alarm. 
 Some prayed, many wept, and all appeared 
 bewildered. Suddenly the convent bell tolled
 
 IIG THE OUTLAW. 
 
 loudly; and the father confessor to the priory — 
 a tall, thin, pallid man — entered, looking, from 
 the fact of his having just quitted either his 
 siesta or refectory, extremely disturbed and 
 sleepy. The blue- eyed abbess cast upon him 
 a look of severe displeasure, and enquired re- 
 peatedly, but ineffectually, what occasioned the 
 commotion. The din without increased — the 
 nuns called upon their patron saints — the friar 
 withdrew the sprig of holy myrtle from the 
 still more holy water, and flung the precious 
 drops that rested on its leaves over the terrified 
 females ; then muttering a benediction, he fol- 
 lowed the prioress, who walked firmly into the 
 chapel — many of the nuns clung around her, 
 and all entreated her not to proceed ; but the 
 lady lacked neither courage nor decision when 
 it was needed, and she passed on fearlessly to 
 ascertain the cause of the tumult both within 
 and without the walls. 
 
 She was not suffered to remain long in sus- 
 pense ; the cause of that commotion was easily 
 explained. 
 
 Before the altar, which was adorned with
 
 THE OUTLAW. 117 
 
 all the various ornaments of Catholicity, his 
 hand resting on the holy place, stood a tall 
 and most noble-looking man, considerably past 
 the meridian of life ; his high forehead was 
 bald and bare, and a quantity of thick grizzled 
 hair shaded his temples, and waved around his 
 neck; his dress was plain and travel-soiled, torn 
 in many places, not decayed ; he was evidently 
 under the influence of strong excitement, but 
 fear would seem to him as a thing unknown. 
 
 The wide door, opposite the altar, leading to 
 the public road that skirted the priory, had 
 been at the instant burst open, and outside 
 and within were groups of peasants, and a few 
 soldiers, who appeared doubtful whether they 
 should advance or retreat ; yet his bold eye 
 dared the crowd, and he stood like a proud 
 forest- stag at bay. 
 
 The nuns had all held back at their gallery- 
 door, and Rosalind only followed the abbess 
 into the centre of the chapel ; she clung to the 
 lady's robe, and was too much interested in the 
 scene to withdraw. 
 
 It had been the custom of the house to leave
 
 118 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 this chapel open for the benefit of the pious 
 poor of the neiglibouring country, and a veiled 
 gallery was appropriated to such nuns as chose 
 to attend what was called public prayers. 
 To this gallery the ladies flocked ; for retire- 
 ment gives a wonderful edge to curiosity, and 
 no matter how terrified they might be, they 
 wished to see the termination of this most 
 strange and unlooked-for tumult. 
 
 " Lad}'," said the stranger, " I claim sanc- 
 tuary within these walls, and at this altar. Wilt 
 suffer it to be violated ?" 
 
 He spoke in a deep stern voice, and with 
 a powerful aspiration, as he had run fast and 
 far. The abbess started ; perhaps she had 
 heard the tones of that voice before ; and it was 
 singular to observe that, notwithstanding the 
 fierce tolling of the bell, the noisy, querulous 
 voices without, the whisperings and suppressed 
 shrieks of the nuns in their shrouded galleries 
 — still the appeal of the hunted stranger came 
 clearly to the ear of every individual present. 
 
 " You see, he has taken refuge here,*" said
 
 THE OUTLAW. 119 
 
 the abbess, drawing her veil over her face, 
 which had hitherto remained uncovered, and 
 addressing the sergeant in command, " there- 
 fore withdraw to the outside ; no one claiming 
 sanctuary at the altar of our blessed Lady of 
 Grace can fail to obtain it." 
 
 " But he is a heretic, an incendiary, an 
 Outlaw," replied the hound, who had often 
 licked the blood of the true-hearted ; " he was 
 tried and condemned at Dorchester by Chief 
 Justice Jeffreys, and escaped by the devil's 
 means ; for no human help could have saved 
 him. Since then a price has been set upon his 
 head, and Colonel Kirke would give twice the 
 sum to have the hanging in his own hands. 
 Forward, my boys — there he stands !" 
 
 The ruffian was about to proceed ; and it was 
 observed by many an anxious eye that the 
 Outlaw neither quailed nor trembled, but 
 grasped his pistol more firmly with his right 
 hand, while his left still rested on the altar. 
 
 " At your peril !" exclaimed the abbess— and 
 Rosalind saw her bright eye flash beneath her
 
 HO THE OUTLAW. 
 
 sombre veil—" at your peril ! What, violate 
 the sanctuary of our Lady of Grace ! — spill 
 blood, or take prisoner within these walls ! 
 By holy Mary and this blessed cross I swear, 
 that if ye do not withdraw, I myself will cite 
 ye before his Majesty and his Holiness's nun- 
 cio, now at London, and see ye feed the ravens 
 of this rebellious land. Out, I say !" She 
 seized a crosier that rested in a niche close to 
 where she stood, and advanced, armed with 
 the holy symbol of her order, towards the 
 crowd, that retreated before her. 
 
 " I call you all to witness, good people," 
 exclaimed the sergeant, stepping back, " that 
 we traced this outlaw from Setley Wood, 
 across the ford of Lymington, through the 
 marshes of Heathy Ditton, then into the heart 
 of the forest, and lastly to this Beaulieu ; and 
 here, because he chooses to claim sanctuary, 
 that mad woman obstructs us in the discharge 
 of our duty."' 
 
 Hereupon a huge outcry was raised by the 
 nuns and the Catholic retainers and inhabit-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 121 
 
 ants of the town, who had crowded to the con- 
 vent, fearing some disaster from the tolling of 
 the bell; and the pet lamb of Colonel Kirke 
 stood a chance of being roughly handled : the 
 doors were closed-to outside by some good 
 Romanist, and the prioress, assisted by Rosa- 
 lind, placed the night-bar across the entry. 
 
 " The Lady Mary Powis," said the stranger, 
 sinking from exhaustion and over-wrought 
 excitement upon the steps of the altar that 
 had afforded him so brave a sanctuary in his 
 great peril, '^ the Lady Mary Powis hath not 
 forgotten herself.'''' 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 L^2 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 My blood-hound Cruelty, as swift as wind, 
 Hunts to the death, and never comes behind : 
 Who but she 's strapt and rausled to withall 
 Would eat her fellowes, and the pray and all ; 
 And yet she cares not much for any food, 
 Unlesse it be the purest harmlesse blood. 
 
 Wither. 
 
 It is now time to note that the demesne of 
 Sydney Pleasance was pleasantly and happily 
 situated in one of the most beautiful parts, 
 where all is indeed beauty, of the New Forest. 
 Its meadows were fertilized by the cheerful 
 waters of the Lymington river, and its park 
 skirted the tranquil village of Brokenhurst ; 
 the house itself slumbered in a green bottom, 
 adorned with groves, lawns, and little sparkling 
 rivulets, that went singing and murmuring on
 
 THE OUTLAW. 123 
 
 their way, rejoicing, as it were, in the freedom 
 of forest life, and affording refreshment to the 
 small coney, or an tiered stag, who loved their 
 clear waters. 
 
 Many were the vistas formed in these plea- 
 sant woods by the skill of that benevolent 
 Nature, which delights in the enjoyment of 
 all her creations. Such indeed as are com- 
 posed of trees, all of a similar age and colour, 
 were unknown in this sylvan neighbourhood : 
 but the wild arches and covered ways formed 
 in untrained but most luxurious elegance, the 
 bushes, the underwood, the twining plants, the 
 mingling of lawn and morass, the undulating 
 form of the hills and scattered pastures, the 
 foliage, retiring from the eye ; while the oaks, 
 that dared the advance of centuries to dim 
 their magnificence, retain in this splendid forest 
 a character of peculiar loveliness and grandeur. 
 They are neither bare, nor overloaded with 
 foliage ; they seldom rise into lofty stems, but 
 spread wide their branches to shelter the my- 
 riads that live beneath their shade. 
 
 g2
 
 124 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 We earnestly hope that all foreigners who 
 visit England may behold and tread along the 
 great avenue from Brokenhurst ; who among 
 them will then dare to call our scenery insipid. 
 We can never look upon forest ground without 
 noting how beautifully Nature combines the 
 several portions of her handywork ; there is 
 there no want of harmony, however opposite 
 may be the forms and habits of her subjects. , 
 
 The river of Lymington, in the immediate 
 neighbourhood of Sydney Pleasance, was little 
 more than a brawling stream, and yet it made 
 many a devious curve ; and numerous bridges, 
 formed of a single tree or plank, had Sir 
 Everard Sydney caused to be thrown across 
 its cheerful waters, to facilitate the pursuit of 
 his favourite amusement. Here and there he 
 could catch glimpses of the embattled tower 
 of Boldre church ; and at such points Ralph 
 Bradwell, in silent compliance with his master's 
 taste, had erected rude stone seats, that his 
 patron might, while resting, look and muse 
 upon things he so devotedly admired. In-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 125 
 
 deed it was not to be wondered at that Sir 
 Everard loved his beautiful retirement. He 
 had wood, water, hill, dale, heath ; and, above 
 all, the ocean, at no great distance, to pay him 
 tribute, and gladden and sweeten life. He was 
 wont to say that, had he been lord of the New 
 Forest, he could not have been happier than 
 he was ; and this was true, though he could 
 have been happy almost anywhere, that is any- 
 where in the country, for he eschewed a city as 
 he would a pestilence. 
 
 We must now convey the readers of our 
 narrative from the convent of the priory at 
 Beaulieu, across the country to Sydney Plea- 
 sance, where, on the evening of the same day 
 that the Outlaw claimed sanctuary at St. Mary's, 
 the household were assembled in the room which 
 we should now-a-days designate the servants' 
 hall. Sir Everard had directed them on that 
 night to call together their friends to celebrate 
 the return of his son, although his stay, in 
 these turbulent times, could not be for many 
 days. The good old man was one who wisely
 
 126 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 enjoyed, without abusing, the present, and re- 
 solved that all about him should, if possible, 
 be as cheerful as himself; the servants were 
 nothing loth to participate in this feeling, and 
 much revelry and many sports had been the 
 order, or rather disorder, of the rustic assembly. 
 There were but two who apparently did not fully 
 share in the evening's merriment : Ralph Brad- 
 well sat on the oaken sill of the large window, 
 looking out upon the night, and almost con- 
 cealed by the projection of the substantial wall ; 
 and Jemmings, the self-important soldier, was 
 moody and impatient of the good humour which 
 seemed established on every brow. The sub- 
 stantial supper provided for their refreshment 
 smoked upon the ample board ; a baron of 
 beef, that jovial relic of old English hospi- 
 tality, was flanked by mutton and venison ; 
 while sundry geese, turkeys, and meat-pies were 
 arranged as entremets, and sent forth a curl- 
 ing and savoury steam. The old fiddler, who 
 occupied a distinguished position, had \ery 
 nearly entered into a quarrel with Major Ray-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 1^7 
 
 mond's servant, for pretending to disbelieve 
 tliat the harts loved music. 
 
 " What boots it," exclaimed the merry sol- 
 dier, " whether they like it or not ? we do, as we 
 shall prove again, Master Longbow, by setting 
 your scraper in motion, as soon as we have heard 
 one of Jemmings' songs. Come, Jemmings, 
 the verses you made yourself upon your forest 
 beauty, pretty Cicely Maynard.*" 
 
 " A curse upon Cicely Maynard ! What do 
 I know or care about her ?'*'' replied Jemmings 
 coarsely. 
 
 " Whew !" whistled his comrade. " Has 
 she jilted her Jemmy, taken up with a Hodge 
 or a Lubin Lout ? Never heed it, my lad ; 
 when we get back to Hounslow there are scores 
 of as pretty girls, and, I warrant me, as faithful.'' 
 
 " Hush,'' said the venerable housekeeper, 
 who presided at the board, and who, with a 
 woman's ready and observant quickness, had 
 perceived that poor Jemmings was suffering 
 from some great and heavy trouble, against 
 which he had vainly struggled all the evening :
 
 128 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 *' hush ! Jenimings is not the first man who 
 has been deceived by woman. Suppose Ralph 
 was to sing us a stave ; he is a right merry fel- 
 low sometimes. Ralph, sing the Three Blue 
 Pigeons. Ralph ! — why, where is Ralph .?" 
 
 " He was here not ten minutes ago," answer- 
 ed a footman ; '' for I noticed how glummish he 
 looked sitting yonder on his haunches, like a 
 great baboon that comes from the Injies. But 
 he 's taken on so after the old hound, that can't 
 be found no where all day, though I told him 
 what was natural to think for any one who had 
 reason. ' Ralph,"* said I, ' I "11 bet you a silver 
 groat the beast is after Mistress Rosalind ; he 'd 
 scent her out anywhere : he 's gone to the 
 convent, too, for his education.' And Ralph 
 looked at me like a nigger, for he 's woundy 
 fond of both Mistress Rosalind and the hound. '*' 
 
 " Poor Mistress Rosalind !'"' murmured the 
 housekeeper, wiping her eyes with the corner 
 of her apron. 
 
 " Poor Mistress Rosalind !" echoed the house- 
 maids and lady's maids, and all, even to the
 
 THE OUTLAW. 129 
 
 little shepherd boy whose finger she had dressed, 
 when he had hurt it climbing a May-tree to 
 bring her the first flowers of the year, cried, 
 " Poor Mistress Rosalind !" And then there 
 was a pause, for all loved her, and all were 
 grieved at her departure. 
 
 " Enough and too much of sorrow for all 
 the wenches under heaven," exclaimed Jem- 
 mings, drawing his heavy chair closer to the 
 table. " Come, my friends, who says that 
 .lemmings is cast down ? No, no. 1 11 not 
 
 deny " But here his voice failed him, and 
 
 he drew the back of his rough hand across his 
 eyes ; then seizing a black-jack of foaming ale, 
 he filled a brimming measure, and standing up, 
 with an air of great bravado, he continued — 
 ** May every false-hearted wench suffer ten 
 times the pain she inflicts here, and pain per- 
 petual hereafter !" He raised the measure to 
 his lips ; a cheerly laugh went round the was- 
 sail board, but it found no answer in the bosom 
 of the true-hearted soldier. The jovial cup 
 remained there for an instant ; the white-crested 
 
 g5
 
 130 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 foam trembled on the brim ; he grew deadly 
 pale, and, ashamed of his weakness, flung the 
 vessel in a transport of passion to the other end 
 of the hall, and covering his face with his 
 hands, rushed from the cheerful company, mut- 
 tering — " Not so bad — not so bad. I cannot 
 drink to her destruction !"" 
 
 Poor Jemmings ! rough soldier though he 
 was, he merited a truer mate. 
 
 Many whispers went round, and it was easily 
 gathered that the faithless Cicely had quickly 
 forgotten her troth and her lover : but we will 
 wait, and hear the story as Jemmings told it him- 
 self to his kind master a short time afterwards. 
 
 " Our song, our song ! We must not lose 
 our song," exclaimed the company ; " the even- 
 ing waxeth late, and we cannot dance again 
 until we sing. Come, Miller of Lady Cross, 
 the song of * Jolly good Ale and Old.' We 
 can all chorus that." 
 
 It was a right pleasant sight, and a scene 
 that Teniers would have delighted to paint : 
 the honest Miller of Lady Cross, with his rubi-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 131 
 
 cund joyous countenance, his small gleaming 
 eyes glistening with goodnature and " jolly 
 good ale ;" his portly and rotund person, bluff 
 and comely, supported in a high and respect- 
 able chair, the centre of attraction to some 
 twenty buxom maidens, with an equal propor- 
 tion of serving and farming-men, grouped ac- 
 cording to their station, some sitting, some 
 standing — the crackling faggots flaring in the 
 huge chimney, and casting their light in broad 
 red masses on the scullions and shepherd boys 
 who, not being of sufficient rank to grace the 
 table, discussed their well-filled trenchers be- 
 neath the shelter of the ample chimney, and 
 shared their feast with the faithful dogs, who 
 wagged their tails and licked their lips with 
 evident satisfaction. Then the old fiddler, dis- 
 playing an alacrity which astonished no one so 
 much as himself, at the very name of the song 
 stood upon the chair, performing an extempo- 
 raneous accompaniment on his Cremona, which, 
 if it did not contribute to the harmony, cer- 
 tainly added to the noise. The uproar increased 
 when he arrived at tlfe third verse —
 
 132 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " And Tib, my wife, that as her life 
 
 Lovelh well good ale to seek, 
 Full oft drinks she, till ye may see 
 
 The tears run down her cheek. 
 Then doth she troll to me the bowl. 
 
 Even as a malt-worm should. 
 And saith ' Sweetheart, 1 took my part 
 
 Of this jolly old ale and good.' " 
 
 " Now for the chorus:" 
 
 " Back and side go bare, go bare ; 
 Both foot and hand go cold ; 
 But belly, God send thee good ale enough, 
 Whether it be new or old,'* 
 
 The last verse " pleaseth us mightily,'' as 
 Samuel Pepys would have said of more courtly 
 matters; and we ought to demand a revival 
 of the ancient comedy of " Gammer Gurton's 
 Needle,"" if it were only for the sake of the 
 merry old song: 
 
 " Now let them drink, till they nod and wink. 
 Even as good fellows should do ; 
 They shall not miss to have the bliss 
 Good ale dolh bring men to. 
 " And all poor souls that have scoured bowls, 
 Or have them lustily troU'd, 
 God save the lives of them and their wives, 
 Whether they be young or old."
 
 THE OUTLAW. 133 
 
 One would have imagined, from the tumult 
 which chorussed this verse, that it was a favour- 
 ite of the scullions and shepherds as well as of 
 ourselves, for they clanked their trenchers as if 
 they were cymbals ; while two of the foresters 
 drew forth their hunting-horns, and sounded a 
 '' tantivy '^ so gallantly, that the hounds bayed 
 and the curs barked, until the revel reached 
 even to the oratory of Lady Sydney, who, of 
 a surety, would have reproved the retainers 
 had it not been that she so dearly estimated 
 the cause of their rejoicings. 
 
 Again was the dance resumed ; and before 
 the breaking-up of the party, the Miller of 
 Lady Cross was called on to repeat his song. 
 He was about to comply with the request, 
 when the bell of the entrance gate, which, 
 during the turbulent time of which we treat, 
 it was considered advisable to secure at an 
 early hour, rang a loud and continued peal, 
 and several of the serving-men proceeded forth- 
 with to open it. 
 
 On any other occasion one would have been
 
 134 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 deemed sufficient to perform the office ; but, 
 truth to tell, the appointed warden could ill 
 stand ; so Job went to carry a lantern straight, 
 because Martin carried his crooked, and Za- 
 chary bore the key, while Jonathan declared 
 his determination to turn it. Some conjec- 
 tured is was Ralph Bradwell who demanded 
 admittance, but those who knew his habits 
 were well convinced that such was not the 
 mode by which he would seek to gain en- 
 trance. 
 
 When the gate was fairly opened, the ser- 
 geant who had used such strenuous efforts to 
 capture the Outlaw at St. Mary's, accompanied 
 by four of his myrmidons, requested instant 
 parley with either Captain Sydney or Major 
 Raymond, who they knew were at Sydney 
 Pleasance. The lateness of the hour, they 
 asserted, mattered not, as the business was of 
 serious import to the state. 
 
 It was well known that the soldiers of Colo- 
 nel Kirke were, like butchers' knives, chosen 
 because of their especial fitness for his pur-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 135 
 
 pose; even such as wished well. to James, and 
 honoured his kingly cause, shrank from the 
 bloodthirsty ministers who followed in his 
 track. Indeed, particularly during the latter 
 part of his reign, this unfortunate man ap- 
 peared to have been bewildered by his evil 
 counsellors, and became, in many instances, 
 the victim of his ill-judging friends. There 
 is something very touching in his fate. He 
 was, by many degrees, a truer-hearted man 
 than his brother Charles, and yet his destiny 
 was to the last degree lamentable. Charles 
 revelled in undisguised and shameless sin, 
 even unto the last moments of his life ; and 
 with a hand trembling, and a heart fainting 
 under the superstitious influence of Catho- 
 licism, had yet the meanness and the hypo- 
 crisy outwardly to subscribe to another faith. 
 James had at least more moral courage : he 
 paid for his faith with his crown. 
 
 The stubbornness of Charles the First was, 
 by the Protestants of those days, called firm- 
 ness ; they could see no firmness in the be-
 
 136 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 reaved James, because his faith accorded not 
 with theirs. Betrayed by his friends — aban- 
 doned by his children — well might the crown- 
 less King exclaim, " Oh, if my enemies only 
 had cursed me, I should have borne it !"" 
 
 All things, however, fairly considered, it 
 is marvellous how, after the strong broth of 
 the Protectorate, the English could be con- 
 tent, even for a time, with the sour porridge 
 of the house of Stuart ! We entreat pardon 
 for this digression, and proceed with our 
 narrative. 
 
 The retainers of Sydney Pleasance dropped 
 off one by one from the scene of wassail as 
 the soldiers entered, and the serving-maidens 
 crept to their beds, notwithstanding the at- 
 tractions of a military coat ; indeed Sergeant 
 Snap'em, so was he designated, was well 
 known in the New Forest — many an unfor- 
 tunate man had he hunted to his destruction ; 
 and the foresters, free-born, light-hearted fel- 
 lows, caring little for politics, and nothing for 
 its armed supporters, had been shrewdly sus-
 
 THE OUTLA.W. 137 
 
 pected of picking out more than one of Colonel 
 Kirk'*s " lambs,'' as he called them, dooming 
 them, as a punishment for profaning their 
 forest sanctuary, to an everlasting dwelling 
 beneath its turf. The sergeant, it is to be 
 supposed, believed these tales ; for with all his 
 desire to catch and make captive, he never 
 ventured beyond the borders without a suit- 
 able and strong guard, sufficient to protect 
 him from a fate, of the likelihood of which 
 he had received several indirect hints, of a 
 nature not to be mistaken. 
 
 The foresters who had joined in the revel 
 remained in the hall, braced their hunting- 
 horns more tightly over their shoulders, and 
 glanced their thumbs lightly over the blades 
 of their hunting-knives, to ascertain if they were 
 in sharp and fitting order. The sergeant and 
 one soldier were quickly shown to Sir Eve- 
 rard's study and dressing-room, which we have 
 elsewhere described ; there a family conclave, 
 consisting of Sir Everard, his son, and Major 
 Raymond, awaited their approach ; for though
 
 138 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 they had all retired to their chambers, they had 
 not yet sought repose. The lights had, how- 
 ever, been extinguished in that and the other 
 apartments ; and it is necessary to bear in mind 
 that the candles which had been brought into 
 this room by the three gentlemen were placed 
 upon a small table in a recess, so that, shaded 
 as they were, they in no degree lessened the 
 effect of the moonlight, which shone brightly 
 from an unclouded sky, and rendered every 
 object on the lawn as distinct as if it had been 
 day within. Thus, in Sir Everard's little peace- 
 ful room, the sanctum of his science, were met 
 together men of war and blood. Without, two 
 nightingales answered to each other from oppo- 
 site trees ; while a watchful squirrel — that Puck 
 of the forest world — ever and anon opened its 
 large brown eyes, and poked forth its animated 
 head from its den in the hollow tree, to see 
 whether it was really night, or early morning. 
 
 Such are the contrasts -- so striking, so pain- 
 ful, and yet so frequently unnoticed, which 
 occur on each day of our existence.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 139 
 
 Sergeant Snap'em was accompanied, or rather 
 followed into the room by a species of affidavit- 
 man, distinguished among his friends and foes 
 by the expressive and well-earned epithet of 
 Bill Tell-truth ; this fellow always swore to 
 what his leader asserted, and, as the sergeant 
 said, " was ever ready at a pinch." He 
 was a pale, lean, lanky-looking person, and 
 slunk close to the window, while the sergeant 
 stood opposite the gentlemen, and detailed the 
 events that had occurred at Beaulieu — events 
 which excited in his auditors both interest and 
 astonishment. 
 
 " What's to be done ?" enquired Captain 
 Basil Sydney of his friend Major Raymond ; 
 " What can be done ? The man, though a 
 notorious outlaw, has taken safe sanctuary at a 
 Catholic altar : it is true he is the well-known 
 friend and emissary of William of Orange, the 
 associate of Sir Patrick Hume ; and never can 
 be forgotten the animosity he showed to the 
 ruling powers on the trial of Lord William 
 Russel : he harangued the people to revolt in
 
 140 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 various parts throughout the city, but though 
 he was seen everywhere, and a thousand pounds 
 in silver offered for his head, he disappeared 
 from amidst the multitude of his pursuers like 
 a thing of magic I*" 
 
 *' All true,"" replied Major Raymond, who 
 observed at the same time that the observation 
 of Basil had caused Sir Everard to smile ; and 
 he paused for a moment to consider from 
 what feeling, under such circumstances, a 
 smile could proceed. 
 
 " What you assert is most true, Basil ; but 
 the sanctity of such a place must be held 
 inviolate." 
 
 " I make bold, your honours" — chimed in the 
 sergeant ; " I think it very shocking that I 
 should be interrupted in the discharge of my 
 lawful calling by any mother, earthly or hea- 
 venly. The holy Catholic church haven't so 
 great an enemy, saving Beelzebub, as that 
 man ; yet, there he stood. I could have taken 
 him as clean through the forehead, (couldn't 
 1, Bill ?) as anything you ever saw, — shot him
 
 THE OUTLAW. 141 
 
 as easy as ever I shot a Puritan, yet I was 
 obliged to leave him there ; 'twas too bad, too 
 bad ! I served with Colonel Kirke, from Don- 
 caster, all through the West, and yet I was 
 never baulked so before — never, since my name 
 was Jack — " 
 
 " Snap'em," added Sir Everard, quietly, be- 
 fore the sergeant had time to say what his name 
 really was : the soldier turned a look of un- 
 mingled ruffianism on the venerable gentleman, 
 and striking the butt-end of his firelock on the 
 ground, while he grasped the bore between his 
 hands, " Well, and suppose it was Snap'em,"''' 
 he growled forth in a voice resembling the 
 snarl of a watch-dog, " there are worse names ; 
 and I never am ashamed of snapping the ene- 
 mies of my king and my religion. Have you 
 anything to say against that, old gentle- 
 man ?" 
 
 " Sergeant," interrupted Major Raymond, 
 sternly ; " there must be no hectoring here; a 
 good soldier does his duty, silently and re- 
 spectfully.**'
 
 14^ THE OUTLAW. 
 
 '• I can get a character from Colonel Kirke, 
 any day," he replied doggedly, " can't I, Bill? 
 and I shouldn't have troubled your honours 
 about the matter, only such varmint being about 
 the neighbourhood, as one may say, I thought 
 it my duty to inform any military that might 
 be hereabout; and now I have done so ; haven't 
 I, Bill ?" 
 
 " You did perfectly right ; and yet I know 
 not how to act, Sydney. I think the sergeant 
 had better state the facts at head-quarters, and 
 let them decide." 
 
 '' Undoubtedly," replied Basil ; " he had 
 better proceed there instantly." 
 
 Snap'em's countenance darkened. 
 
 " Please ye, gentlemen," he said, after a 
 pause, " I have dogged this fellow through the 
 forest for better than a week ; and though I 
 could never bring him down, I pretty nearly 
 starved him out. I Ve watched round trees he 
 has mounted, only kept from mounting after 
 him by the fear of those buU-dogs that he's 
 ever clicking at ; and from the top of one of the 
 highest, he would clamber on to another, and
 
 THE OUTLAW. 143 
 
 SO on, in the dark night ; and then, perhaps, 
 we'd get trace of him in some of the burrows, 
 and try to smoke him out ; but he always stands 
 fire well, as well as a salamander. I could be 
 sworn he has tasted nothing since yesterday 
 week, except acorns or berries — unless he has 
 eaten his own flesh, which we sometimes drive 
 'em to do."" 
 
 Sir Everard Sydney groaned audibly, and 
 covered his face with his hands at the horrid 
 picture. 
 
 "And," proceeded the sergeant, "if I leave 
 him now, notwithstanding all my care, he may 
 get away, and some one else may catch him 
 and get the reward ; for I suppose they won't 
 keep him in the nunnery, and he's not able to 
 go far, for he has neither money nor strength — 
 has he. Bill r 
 
 " How do you know that he has no money ?" 
 enquired Captain Sydney. 
 
 " Why we found a sort — that is. Bill there 
 found a sort — of pocket-book of his, with some 
 few Dutch pieces and some papers in it." 
 
 " Dutch pieces and papers !" repeated Ma-
 
 144 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 jor Raymond : " how many Dutch pieces, and 
 where are the papers ?*" 
 
 " They weren't Dutch pieces exactly, your 
 honour,"" said Bill, looking much annoyed ; 
 " they were only Holland sixpences, and a few 
 doits, and such like." 
 
 " But the papers ?'' 
 
 " I know nothing about them ; they couldn't, 
 be no great things," replied the sergeant, " from 
 the looks of them ; what did you do with them, 
 Bill r 
 
 " I did nothing with them that I know of," 
 replied the fellow, sullenly ; ' you knows you 
 took the bag yourself." 
 
 A look of stern reproof was his only answer : 
 " 1 wilj find the papers if they are to be found, 
 your honour ; Bill, here, though very observ- 
 ant, which is the reason he goes with me every 
 where, has no sort of memory ; but in regard of 
 the Outlaw, your honour ; what I principally 
 thought, couldn't you manage to get him away ? 
 bribe him out of his sanctuary, as he calls it ? 
 he*d come as clean as a cucumber if either of 
 your honours would give your words for his
 
 THE OUTLAW. 145 
 
 safety , and then we could grab him ; couldn't 
 we, Bill ?^' 
 
 " Quite easy,"" chimed in Bill. 
 
 " Such mode of acting would ill tally with 
 our honour ; and you, as a soldier, ought to 
 know better." 
 
 " Humph ! Colonel Kirke '' 
 
 " Don't quote Colonel Kirke, or any other 
 colonel to me, sir. I know my duty without re- 
 ference to any officer,'' said the hot Irishman ; 
 " I command you instantly to head-quarters ; 
 and, as on your way to London you can pass 
 through Beaulieu, see that a due guard is 
 set round St. Mary's priory, to prevent the 
 Outlaw's escape, until his Majesty's pleasure 
 is known. That, at least, will not violate the 
 sanctuary." 
 
 " I have done it already, please your honour ; 
 not a window or a door that is not guarded ; 
 and even if he was able to travel, I defy him to 
 put the muzzle of a bullrush outside the walls 
 without its being seen ; that is, unless, as I 
 said before, the devil helps him.*' 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Sir Everard Sydney half rose from his 
 chair ; and then, unconscious of the movement, 
 which was only observed by his son, sank 
 back into his former position. 
 
 '* If he were not so marked a man," said 
 Cuthbert Raymond, " it would not be of so 
 much consequence." 
 
 " 'Tis true," replied Basil ; " and much as I 
 admire both his bravery and his boldness, I 
 should be sorry to meet him, for " 
 
 Before Basil could finish his sentence, the 
 Echo of Sergeant Snap'em, as the fellow was 
 frequently called, who had stationed himself 
 near the window, moved silently from his 
 stand, and pointing towards the lawn, on which 
 rested the pale and holy moonlight, the offi- 
 cers as well as the sergeant saw distinctly the 
 shadows of two men creeping along the range 
 of trees that skirted the sward. 
 
 " By the living light !" whispered the ser- 
 geant, '• one of those is he ! And now I see 
 the other is that mummering idiot, — Ralph 
 Bradwell, they call him — stay; gentlemen,
 
 THE OUTLAW. 147 
 
 stay." He raised the firelock to his shoulder ; 
 and as the window where the anxious party stood 
 was in the shade, those without could not see 
 the movements of those within; he silently 
 undid the fastenings, and crouching down like 
 a tiger preparing for the fatal spring, waited 
 until the unsuspecting man came under cover 
 of his gun. 
 
 This was all the work of a moment, and of 
 so swift a moment, that neither of the officers 
 were sufficiently collected to issue any de- 
 cided order to the ruffian, who thirsted for 
 blood and wealth: — his finger was on the lock, 
 and the Outlaw's destruction inevitable — until 
 old Sir Everard, who, when the approach of 
 the Outlaw was first announced, seemed the 
 most bewildered of the assembly, sprang for- 
 ward, and striking the gun from the sergeant*'s 
 hand, uttered in a loud tone the single word, 
 " Denward !" The piece went off, notwith- 
 standing ; and though two men fled across the 
 lawn, one of them was observed lagging on 
 his way, and after proceeding a few steps, to 
 
 h2
 
 148 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 sink upon the sward. It was the awkward 
 and bent form of the faithful Ralph, easily 
 distinguished, even at a distance, from the 
 tall and stately figure of the persecuted 
 Outlaw.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 149 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 What hapless hap had I for to be born 
 In these unhappy times, and dying days 
 Of this now doting world, when good decays, 
 Love 's quite extinct, and Virtue 's held a scorn, 
 When such are only priz'd by wretched ways 
 Who with a golden fleece them can adorn ! 
 When Avarice and Lust are counted praise. 
 And bravest minds live, orphan-like, forlorn ! 
 
 Drummond. 
 
 " Father !" exclaimed Basil Sydney, in a 
 tone of the deepest agony, while the soldiers 
 and the impetuous Major Raymond rushed 
 upon the track of the fugitives ; " Father ! let 
 what will betide, you are utterly and hopelessly 
 ruined ! You have long been suspected of 
 favouring the Orange Plot, and to that has 
 been attributed my slow promotion. Now there 
 is an end on't ! On Cuthbert I could rely —
 
 150 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 could stake my souVs salvation on his silence, 
 on his kindness — but these myrmidons ! O, 
 father ! father ! would that I had died long 
 since !" 
 
 " The will of God be done, Basil !" replied 
 the old gentleman, " but I could not see him 
 stricken ; I bless the Almighty that they could 
 not know the signal-word ; for he is fleet of 
 foot, and surely will be saved." 
 
 "But poor Ralph — I almost hope he is 
 dead — for if he lives, they will obtain all 
 from his simplicity." 
 
 " Now the Lord forgive you, Basil, for such 
 a thought ; I fear me he is ill wounded, yet 
 will they extract nothing from him — the crea- 
 ture is, indeed, faithful in spirit and in truth." 
 
 " Father, I cannot remain here ; I must stir 
 in this business, to wash away the odium from 
 our house. To-morrow we will talk farther." 
 
 Basil passed from the room, and followed the 
 same path which Major Raymond had taken; 
 doubtless with the sincere hope that their pur- 
 suit might be fruitless. He had not, however,
 
 THE OUTLAW. 151 
 
 proceeded far, when a low moaning noise at- 
 tracted his attention, and on examining a 
 thicket, he perceived his old friend Ralph, 
 whose hands were tightly bound together with 
 the sergeant's sash, sitting moaning on the 
 ground. 
 
 " Ralph, Ralph !" said Basil, intent on trying 
 his fidelity — " whom were you with ?"' 
 
 '* How should Ralph know, young master ? 
 the poor simple pigeon meets many a bird on 
 its way, and flies a bit in its company, without 
 asking where it comes from or whither it goes.""* 
 
 " Has your companion reached his hiding 
 place in safety ?" 
 
 " How should Ralph know ? the wild cat 
 tells not its dwelling to the squirrel." 
 
 " This will do," thought the young captain, 
 and went on, hallooing occasionally on his 
 way ; and, indeed, that portion of the forest 
 which they traversed, leading to Brokenhurst 
 village, was pretty well alive ; as the foresters, 
 ever on the alert, had issued from thence ; and 
 though they took no part in the chase, which the
 
 1.52 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 soldiers so actively engaged in, they must not 
 be imagined uninterested spectators of the scene. 
 On every knoll of ground commanding a 
 prospect of the race^ for so it might literally be 
 called, groups of twos and threes assembled, 
 and that so speedily and suddenly, that one 
 might have fancied the forest king had sum- 
 moned his spirits from hill and dale ; but the 
 bonny lady moon, ever at her bo-peep ways, 
 played a sad trick with the sergeant — in revenge 
 for his seeking to appropriate her holy light to 
 an evil purpose — at the very instant when he 
 was gaining on the hunted man, the Outlaw 
 was seen to climb the artificial mound of earth 
 which surrounds the singular and beautiful old 
 church of Brokenhurst; he crawled over it 
 with fainting steps, and already the shout of 
 exultation rose to the sergeant's lip ; but before 
 he could give it utterance, the beams became 
 obscure, a dark filmy cloud floated over the 
 moon, and, when the party arrived at the 
 mound, they were utterly unable to ascertain at 
 which point he had ascended.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 153 
 
 While they stood debating this important 
 matter, the vapour sailed majestically up the 
 blue sky, obscuring, in their turn, some of the 
 countless stars that sparkled in the everlast- 
 ing heavens. One would have thought the 
 moon laughed at her mischief, for she shone 
 more brightly than ever when her shining was 
 vain ! Every mound was looked at, the steel 
 bayonet was rudely thrust into many a peace- 
 ful grave; the fine yew-tree, which at that 
 time was in its full beauty, was searched, even 
 to its extremest branches, which are said to be 
 sixty feet from the ground. The church-door 
 was burst rudely in, to discover if again he had 
 sought refuge at the altar. The pursuit was 
 continued, but in vain ; and with oaths, deep 
 and bitter, the soldiers, who had been joined by 
 Captain Sydney, returned weary and dispirited, 
 just as the morning broke upon Sydney Plea- 
 sance. 
 
 " I will not go to bed, Basil ; I will sit with 
 you ; we are both in trouble," said Major Ray- 
 mond. " I would not for a thousand gold 
 
 11 5
 
 154 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 pieces that this had chanced. I know not what 
 face to put upon it; that unfortunate idiot is 
 dumb — dumb; and yet I must send him before 
 a magistrate, or expose him to the mercies of 
 martial law." 
 
 " Ralph is continually wandering about, night 
 and day ; he knows no rest ; he is ever, too, with 
 beggars, and gipsies, and trampers ; he is not 
 an accountable creature, Cuthbert ; all my 
 father's servants can testify that." 
 
 " You would not testify it," replied Major 
 Raymond, emphatically : " and look ye here, 
 captain mine ; albeit, heaven knows ! our blessed 
 king has enough, and too much, to engross his 
 attention in the way of great troubles, he 
 would be more anxious, more disturbed, by an 
 event like this, than if called to meet William 
 of Nassau in the field to-morrow." 
 
 " I know it, my friend," said Basil, mourn- 
 fully ; " and situated as I am, I can hardly be 
 expected to give you counsel. Do whatever 
 you consider your duty, and though harsh, I 
 will not — must not — dispute its fitness."
 
 THE OUTLAW. 155 
 
 The two young men looked at each other 
 with a long and anxious gaze ; and Cuthbert 
 Raymond at length broke the painful silence 
 by the simple sentence of, 
 
 " Your father, Basil — " 
 
 '' I know — I fear — his conduct may be very 
 hardly construed; but you must bear in mind 
 his gentle and peace-loving disposition ; indeed, 
 Cuthbert, he can scarcely support the sight 
 of blood." 
 
 " And indeed, Basil, you are a bad story- 
 teller. What has the sight of blood to do with 
 a private pass- word .f* Nay, man, nay, never 
 blush to take your father's part ; but that is not 
 the reason ; believe me, I feel the difficulty, and 
 feel it with you. That he has an interest in this 
 man, is certain ; but what of that ? were it not 
 for the accursed sergeant — could you not bribe 
 him ?'' 
 
 " Curse him ! no !" exclaimed Basil, fiercely. 
 " No, Cuthbert. For my father, I think no 
 harm can be done by trusting to the issue. 
 The whole tenour of his life, his guileless and
 
 156 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 perfect simplicity, the asylum he afforded to 
 Father Frank in the turbulent times, when 
 persecution raged the other way ; his attach- 
 ment to the Stuarts — ^" 
 
 " To the Protestant Stuarts, you mean." 
 
 " No, I do not ; I mean to the royal race : 
 — the unflinching Catholic principles of my 
 mother, would, I am convinced, all operate in 
 his favour, even if it was believed he had a 
 personal regard for the unfortunate Outlaw ; 
 and remember also, Cuthbert, that Judge 
 Jeffrej^s has seen his best days ; his influence, 
 thank God, is not what it was." 
 
 " 1 say ' amen' to that ' thank God' m ith 
 all my heart," responded Cuthbert ; " but sup- 
 pose we let matters with respect to your father 
 take their course, what is to be done, with that 
 unfortunate fellow, Ralph ? They will put 
 him to the torture ! My dear Basil, I wish 
 that you were major, and I captain ; unfor- 
 tunately the ordering of the business devolves 
 upon me." 
 
 " Well then, Cuthbert — the wound he has
 
 THE OUTLAW. 157 
 
 received, if you will undertake the case, can 
 be made of sufficient importance to plead a rea- 
 son for his not being moved at present; and I 
 will answer for his appearing hereafter. I will 
 answer for it with my life !"" 
 
 " I think it can be done,"" said the generous 
 Cuthbert; and forthwith revolved in his own 
 mind the propriety of presenting a gratuity to 
 the sergeant, and offering an increased reward 
 for the apprehension of the Outlaw : this no- 
 tion he communicated to Basil. 
 
 " Suppose, captain, we were to induce your 
 father to add his name to yours and mine in 
 a forest proclamation for the capture of this 
 fellow ?" 
 
 " My father would not; he would as soon 
 eat the moon as appear to do that which his 
 heart scorns." 
 
 " Suppose we did it for him ?*" 
 
 " Then would he cause a counter edict to be 
 sent forth through all the forest towns and vil- 
 lages. You know not the perfect truthfulness 
 and simplicity of that man's nature."
 
 158 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Well, Basil, you can tell best. Suppose, 
 after disposing of the sergeant, we wend our 
 way to the good town of Beaulieu, by the hour 
 of noon ? Something tells me we shall ere long 
 resume our duties ; sooner, perhaps, than we 
 expect : and, independently of the necessity of 
 seeing the abbess, I must visit my sister. — 
 Alas ! when I look out upon a scene like this, 
 I could almost turn my sword into a plough- 
 share." 
 
 He threw open the window of the apartment, 
 and the full gush of morning air and morning 
 sunshine burst upon them. The squirrel, no 
 longer in doubt, sprang from branch to branch ; 
 and though the nightingale had ceased her 
 song, there was no silence in the grove : the 
 blackbird's shrill and joyous whistle echoed 
 above the forest trees ; the voice of the thrush 
 discoursed a softer melody ; the early lark 
 commenced its song and flight together, still 
 keeping its eye fixed upon the speck where its 
 gentle mate sat in patient brooding oVr their 
 young; the chaffinch crept from out its silver
 
 THE OUTLAW. 159 
 
 nest in the old apple-tree ; the bright goldfinch, 
 proud of his embroidered vest, shook off the 
 dewy spangles from his wing upon the topmost 
 bough of the wild pear ; the laugh of the merry 
 woodpecker danced with the passing zeph3^rs. 
 The forest was alive with beauty ! The daisy 
 unclasped her modest coronet, and smiled good- 
 morrow to the more bashful violet ; the wild 
 swans clamoured among the rustling reeds of 
 the sweet silent rivers ; " the red bird of the 
 sun"" unreefed his ruddy plumes, and hailed 
 the god of day with that wild cheery shout 
 which calls the lagging milk-maid from her 
 pallet. The crafty fox crept through the tan- 
 gled furze, or purple heather ; and the proud 
 stag, lifting his antlers to the morning, sniffed 
 at the breeze, and passed on to his lair. 
 
 The sun above the wooded hills sent his di- 
 verging rays athwart the beautiful but evil 
 vapours that, like the wicked of this our earth- 
 ly world, would fain obscure whatever is most 
 good : their darkness perisheth in that great 
 light ; and virtue, in the end, will triumph over
 
 160 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 sin ! 'Tis a grand allegory, written by the God 
 of nature with an immortal pen. Behold ! the 
 ruddy light catcheth the spires of the tallest 
 trees, and then steals downwards, bathing the 
 spreading and eternal forest in a huge sea of 
 glory. 
 
 " I thank thee, God, for such a sight !'* said 
 Cuthbert, turning with aching eyes from the 
 window, and pressing his fingers on his eye- 
 balls, as if they had surfeited of beauty. " I 
 have seen many sunrises, but never one like 
 this. Come, cheer up, Basil ! it is enough for a 
 poor devil like me, who has no home, no house 
 — no — come, come, look not like a youth with 
 a broken pate : by St. Patrick ! "' 
 
 " You always swear by St. Patrick when 
 you are in a good humour." 
 
 " Good humour ! — how could I be in any 
 other sort of humour after looking on such a 
 sunrise ?*" 
 
 " Do you know sunsets and sunrises — or 
 rather sunrises and sunsets, always make me 
 sad. One is the birth, the other the death 
 of hope."
 
 THE OUTLAW. 161 
 
 " Pshaw ! that's the worst of you English- 
 men ; like Jaques, you suck melancholy as a 
 weasel sucks eggs ; you draw gloom from every 
 thing, and you call that ' extracting a moral.' 
 A murrain upon such morality ! say I ; give me 
 the sun-beam that extracts the sweets, the bee 
 that gathers the honey. What have I to do 
 with the thorns of white and red roses.'' His 
 the blossoms I want — the bloom, the nectared 
 flowers." 
 
 " Cuthbert, you cannot have the one with- 
 out the other." 
 
 " There you go again ! — To be sure I can't. 
 But never tell me that they do not give a 
 zest to each other ; those who are sensitive to 
 the one, are alive to all. But a truce to our 
 sermonizing ; here comes Father Frank, look- 
 ing somewhat out of spirits. Save thee, good 
 father ! See, Basil, his reverence has got a 
 newspaper !" 
 
 " Ay, and a sad one ; it is but two days 
 old, and brings news — news — and his most 
 
 Christian Majesty is greatly enraged thereat 
 
 and no wonder."
 
 162 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 '* According to your opinion," said Basil. 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! Master Basil, you are of the 
 opposite faith ; but listen, here have I got a 
 letter from a trusty brother in the camp, which 
 I will read, premising that he is a staunch sup- 
 porter of our faith as of our king. 
 
 " ' His Majesty (saith my friend) expressed 
 his surprise and indignation in the strongest 
 terms, at hearing the sudden and joyous out- 
 cry that was raised in the camp by the sol- 
 diers on the acquittal of the mitred here- 
 tics !' (" I beg your pardon, Basil," said the 
 priest, conscious that the passage deserved an 
 apology. Basil bowed coldly, and even bitter- 
 ly, and desired the priest to continue.) ' He 
 assured the soldiers, when speaking to Lord 
 Feversham, that it should be the worse for 
 them. He was in a most holy rage, and foam- 
 ed with just indignation. He has struck out 
 two of the judges, Powel and Holloway, who 
 appeared to favour these men ; he has issued 
 orders to prosecute all those clergymen who 
 have not read his declaration : he has sent a
 
 THE OUTLAW. 163 
 
 mandate to the new fellows, whom he wisely 
 ordained to Magdalen College, to elect for 
 president the highly esteemed and most vener- 
 able Gifford, whom you very well know is titu- 
 lar bishop of Madura ; at which there is much 
 joy, but to none more than to myself — for his 
 reverence is a good and holy man, and much to 
 be esteemed. I wish you had been here and 
 tasted the delicious nuts and fatted capons he 
 sent me from a ship wherein he had a most 
 successful venture ; but it was sorrowful that 
 they arrived upon one of the new fast- days, 
 followed by Friday ! so that they were a trifle 
 gone; which, however, our cook remedied by 
 her most excellent and skilful sauce, of which 
 I send you the receipt. His Majesty has also 
 signified his intention of nominating the same 
 learned and holy divine to the see of Oxford."* " 
 " Now, by God's grace ! this is too much," 
 interrupted Basil Sydney, springing to his 
 feet. — " Has that misguided monarch no true 
 friend to warn him of the peril of his ways ? 
 Why is the fact concealed from him that the
 
 164 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 majority of a Protestant nation will not, can- 
 not be expected to bear such utter infatua- 
 tion ? There are thousands of his people at 
 this moment who believe him, from his bigotry, 
 capable of committing any crime ! Oh, what 
 price would be too high for a king to pay for a 
 trusty friend !" 
 
 " Heigh-day !" exclaimed Cuthbert, who, 
 stretched upon a long and richly-cushioned 
 settle, watched his comrade's irritation, as if he 
 were half inclined to jest and more than half 
 inclined to be very angry ; "by Jupiter ! you 
 had better say so to his Majesty yourself, and 
 then he will have one friend, at least, who will 
 tell the truth, and lose his head as a well-me- 
 rited recompense." 
 
 Basil made no reply, but strode out of the 
 apartment, leaving Cuthbert and the priest in 
 deep and unconcealed distress at the freedom of 
 his speech. 
 
 " Now the holy Virgin preserve that gallant 
 boy, and turn his mind to the right mode, for of 
 a surety his thoughts are not what they might
 
 THE OUTLAW. 165 
 
 be f I pray for him late and early ; and his 
 most excellent lady mother hath vowed many 
 a vow for his improvement. It is quite edify- 
 ing the penances she performs for his sake, and 
 the offerings she gives that his head may be 
 raised above the dark waters that encompass 
 him round about. I must go and make known 
 unto her the pleasant news touching Gifford, 
 and the extraordinary triumph of those prelates, 
 which is a mystery I cannot fathom." 
 
 And away went the priest, brimful of news, 
 and caring more for that his budget was full, 
 than for the contents it carried. 
 
 Basil wandered through the grounds, anxi- 
 ous to meet, yet desiring to avoid, his father ; — 
 pondering many things in his mind, and won- 
 dering how long the people would support the 
 whims and tyrannies of the infatuated James. 
 He found himself standing beneath his mother's 
 window ; and on looking up to her secret and 
 favoured oratory, the profile of a countenance, 
 which he had certainly seen before, met his 
 eye ; there it was, the outline perfect, the high
 
 166 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Jewish features, so cut and so distinct — almost 
 touching the glass — it was impossible to note 
 and not remember them. The brow was co- 
 vered to the deep black eye-brows by a red 
 folded cap, somewhat pointed ; and the vest 
 was tied round the throat with a golden cord. 
 Surely he had seen that face before! — and a 
 very unpleasant thought accompanied the recol- 
 lection : — certainly he had seen it before ; those 
 very lips had enlightened him, and a parcel of 
 other youths, (who at the time, possessed more 
 wit than money,) as to their after-destinies, — 
 he could not be mistaken ! The face turned 
 round, and as instantly vanished from the 
 window. He was not mistaken Another mys- 
 tery ! In the heart of the New Forest — in 
 Sydney Pleasance — in his mother's secret 
 chamber — he had seen the astrologer of Cheap- 
 side ! As if his feet were shod with lightning, 
 he flew along the passages, up the stairs, and 
 in an incalculably short space of time stood 
 within the very room where he had seen the 
 astrologer — it was empty! As he left the
 
 THE OUTLAW. 167 
 
 chamber, more puzzled than ever, he encoun- 
 tered his mother's serving-maiden upon the 
 stairs. 
 
 " Her lady," she said, " had not been in 
 that room to-day.'* 
 
 " Nor any one else P"*"* 
 
 " No, certainly not." 
 
 " Had Father Frank ?" 
 
 " No, Father Frank was with her lady, in 
 the greenhouse !" 
 
 Poor Basil ! he was indeed perplexed !
 
 168 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Where fantasy, near handmaid to the mind. 
 Sits and beholds, and doth discern them all ; 
 
 Compounds in one, things diff'rent in their kin ; 
 Compares the black and white, the great and small. 
 
 This busy pow'r is working day and night ; 
 
 For when the outward senses rest do take, 
 A thousand dreams fantastical and light. 
 
 With flutt'ring wings do keep her still awake/ 
 
 Sir John Davies. 
 
 As the day advanced, the young men pro- 
 ceeded to prepare for their journey to Beaulieu. 
 The sergeant received directions to remain in 
 the neighbourhood, where the Outlaw had so 
 unaccountably disappeared ; and Major Ray- 
 mond assured him that, as he would be answer- 
 able for Ralph's forthcoming, there was no 
 need for setting a watch over his sick-bed. 
 
 Lady Sydney, though she warmly disclaimed
 
 THE OUTLAW. 169 
 
 the fact, was in heart and soul a political in- 
 triguante, and had James known her value in 
 this respect, he would have had her about the 
 court, where her fine abilities would have 
 found fitting occupation : doubtless, the real 
 source of her un happiness arose from the im- 
 possibility of stirring up Sir Everard to any- 
 thing like activity ; he would never oppose, and 
 rarely contradicted, her, though in the bitter- 
 ness of her heart she would often assert matters 
 that could not fail to irritate one of his political 
 and religiovis faith. She ought, as far as energy 
 was concerned, to have been born a statesman : as 
 it was, her spirit sought other occupation, and 
 she yielded to superstition, and a belief in su- 
 pernatural agency, the powers of a mind which, 
 at almost any other historical period, would 
 have made her the wonder and the ornament 
 of her age and sex. 
 
 Much as she idolized her son, she could not 
 conceal from herself the fact that he was any- 
 thing but a warm supporter of the Catholic 
 faith ; even Major Raymond, in her estima- 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 no THE OUTLAW. 
 
 tion, was all too cold in such a cause: she 
 trembled, too, at her son''s intended visit to 
 Beaulieu ; and would, with woman's skilfulness, 
 have invented some pretext to avoid such a 
 contretems, had it not been for the necessity, 
 which she was quick to discover, of showing 
 zeal in behalf of her husband ; for well she 
 knew that Sir Everard felt none, and would 
 not feign to feel any to bring matters to a 
 safe and satisfactory issue. She was sorely 
 perplexed as to the position in which he stood, 
 and, after a long consultation with Father 
 Frank, decided on at once stirring in the mat- 
 ter, so as to apprehend this Outlaw, if indeed 
 he lurked anywhere in the neighbourhood of 
 her abode ; she also insisted on the padre's 
 mounting, not his ambling jennet, but a high- 
 bred horse that would carry him swiftly to 
 St. Mary's, and give the abbess instructions 
 to prevent any meeting between Rosalind and 
 her cousin, — the chance of his visiting the place 
 not having previously occurred to her. 
 
 She offered Major Raymond her carriage to
 
 THE OUTLAW. 171 
 
 convey his sister to Sydney Pleasance, and was 
 so urgent in her invitation, that he readily pro- 
 mised to present her to her ladyship, if he 
 found by the next advices from London that 
 his presence was not absolutely necessary in 
 the camp. " If, however," he continued, " the 
 Prince of Orange took any decided step against 
 the anointed King, there was but one course 
 for every officer to pursue." 
 
 Lady Sydney neither felt, nor pretended to 
 feel, an atom of affection for her husband ; yet 
 the possibility of his falling into disgrace be- 
 cause of the part he had so decidedly taken in 
 the affair of the past night, affected her much. 
 It roused her pride to avert the danger — and 
 pride was the torrent of her mind. 
 
 She had never before suspected that Sir 
 Everard had any connection with the Outlaw ; 
 and even now was unable ,to divine why one of 
 her husband's peaceable pursuits should trouble 
 himself about the matter. A fanatic she knew 
 well that this man was, and many asserted that 
 he was absolutely mad. He roamed from place 
 
 i2
 
 172 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 to place without any visible means of support ; 
 and persons from beyond seas had asserted him 
 to have been seen in Germany and Holland, 
 when it was known, or at least confidently be- 
 lieved, that he was at hide-and-seek in the woods 
 of England or among the mountains of Wales. 
 
 The village girls and women, both on the 
 borders, and in the New Forest, with which he 
 seemed familiar as if born amongst its shades, 
 called him in poetic phrase, " Will of the Wood- 
 lands," — an appellative suitable to his careless 
 appearance, but not emblematic of his mind, of 
 which they had no means of judging, as he held 
 commune but with a few, and those were the 
 bravest and most suspected of the Forest hunt- 
 ers. Under the impression that he was fre- 
 quently in need of food, it was their custom to 
 hide it in every nook and crevice where they 
 thought it must be found. 
 
 Despite Lady Sydney's religious opinions, 
 there was something so bold, so daring in the 
 adventures and hair-breadth escapes of this 
 singular and mysterious being, that she enter-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 173 
 
 tained, perhaps without knowing it herself, a 
 secret respect for his gallant and intrepid cha- 
 racter ; and she would hardly have aroused her 
 domestics and retainers to the exertions she 
 conceived necessary for his capture, but that 
 the part Sir Everard had so unfortunately 
 taken in the presence of the soldiers rendered 
 it necessary. It was her husband's habit com- 
 pletely to permit her orders and directions to be 
 supreme; so that she interfered not with Iiis 
 darling pursuits, he cared little who came or 
 who went ; and the idea of his contradicting 
 her behest on this subject scarcely entered into 
 her calculation, although she thought it might 
 be as well to caution the servants " not to men- 
 tion to Sir Everard that they were bent upon 
 giving aid to the sergeant and his men."" 
 
 " I ask yer honour's pardon," said Jemmings, 
 touching his cap, as only a soldier can, when he 
 speaks to his commander, " but I suppose I am 
 to attend your honour to St. Mary's ; the serv- 
 ants are saying that they 're to be on the alert, 
 and if your honour pleases, I want my dis- 
 charge."
 
 174 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " I do not understand you," replied Captain 
 Sydney; "you spoke just now of going with 
 me, and now you say you want your dis- 
 charge." 
 
 " Not incompatible," said Jemmings, who 
 prided himself on the use of long words ; " I 
 want my discharge from his Majesty's service : 
 but I can demonstrate to your honour that I am 
 not wishful to leave yours." 
 
 " Discharge ! such conduct is not soldierly ; 
 the King has need of friends ; surely that is not 
 the reason you would leave him .^" 
 
 " No, not exactly, Master Basil ; but my 
 concomitated belief is, that a king will always 
 have friends in England as long as he deserves 
 'em, holding as he does a respectable situation, 
 and being " 
 
 " By Jove, sir, you are either mad or 
 drunk, to talk in such a manner : saddle my 
 horse, if you have not already done so, and 
 bring it forth ; and let me hear no more of such 
 trash." 
 
 " I ask your honour's pardon, but I really
 
 THE OUTLAW. 175 
 
 cannot be a soldier any longer. I intended to 
 have won my way to glory, — to have returned 
 after killing the Prince of Orange (for he will 
 truly come) with his own Blue Bill, — to have 
 returned, I say, and sipped the sweets of retire- 
 ment out of the buttercups and July-flowers of 
 the forest; but I'll go no more, for I am a 
 heart-broken, disappointed young man. Ah, 
 Master Basil, Master Basil ! you were never in 
 love, or you would never look so cruel and so 
 cold upon me." 
 
 Basil smiled. 
 
 " It is easy to smile when the heart is light ; 
 and Cicely used to say, Master Basil, I smiled 
 sweetly. But there's something more in a man 
 than in a turnip ; there's a heart. Master Basil, 
 a red — a bleeding heart in my bosom. I '11 be 
 no more a soldier ; 'tis the trade of a successful 
 lover, and I 'm a forsaken one ; so I '11 just turn 
 shepherd, and sing sonnetteers." 
 
 Basil could refrain no longer, though he had 
 matters of great moment to engross his atten- 
 tion. The idea of his old faithful Jemmings,
 
 17G THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Old Iron/' as he M'as termed by his brother 
 soldiers, turning shepherd, caused him a hearty 
 burst of laughter. 
 
 The great overgrown monster who stood 
 before him, in huge jack-boots, and wide- 
 topped gloves, metamorphosed into a shepherd, 
 with a flock of lambs, a crook, a wreath of 
 poppies and a straw hat ! it was too much for 
 his gravity; which was tried still more, while 
 Jemmings continued mingling up, in a strange 
 way, hints against the immorality of Sergeant 
 Snap'em, a pathetic lamentation for Cicely, and 
 a repetition of iiis resolve to tarry no longer 
 with the troops of James. It was in vain that 
 Basil told him the impossibility of a stout able 
 fellow like him receiving permission to quit- 
 his regiment. 
 
 " Then,'*' replied " Old Iron,'' " I '11 desert- 
 it 's in my destiny that I 'm not to be a soldier." 
 
 " And how know you that, my fine fellow ?" 
 
 " How do I know it, your honour ? Why, 
 your honour remembers the woman in a red hood 
 I told you of; and she was queen of the beg-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 177 
 
 gars, I thought — but she's better than that — a 
 wonderful soothsayer ! And hearing she could 
 tell everything, I went to her last night, where 
 her tent is pitched down yonder, and resolved 
 to make trial of her knowledge. First, I asked 
 her who I was, and she told me ! and 1 asked 
 who you was, and she told me ! And she 
 initiated me likewise, that you would go a 
 journey to-day to St. Mary's priory ; and she 
 told me you would fall in love with an Irish 
 lady ; and she told me your cousin was there 
 too, but she said a black cloud shed poison 
 on her when she was born — and she looked 
 at the stars, and said I wasn't born to be a 
 general I And, what was the most excruciating 
 thing of all, she said that hussy Cicely was 
 born under a wild star, and would certainly 
 die mad. And she took me out and made me 
 look over at Sydney Pleasance, and showed 
 me where a dark cloud hung over the house — 
 a horrible dark cloud it was !" 
 
 " Enough of such trumpery ! "" exclaimed 
 Basil contemptuously. " Warn the women to 
 
 i5
 
 178 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 look after their poultry, and the shepherd 
 to his lambs, when such gipsies infest the 
 country.'' 
 
 *' She 's no gipsy, Master Basil ; if so be 
 she be a she, still it 's no gipsy : it 's past 
 gipsy learning, which comes out of ignorance; 
 but that creeter's wisdom is beyond such low- 
 ness. Does your honour ride Brown Bess ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Basil musingly. If any one 
 had told him he believed there was a shadow 
 of truth in such predictions, he would have 
 been very angry ; he would have, perhaps, 
 gone so far as to enquire whether he was sup- 
 posed to be a fool ? And yet, such is the 
 desire we all feel to pry into the mysteries of 
 futurity, that Basil called Jemmings back. 
 
 " Jemmings !" 
 
 " Yes, Master Basil.'' 
 
 "Jemmings, you must have seen the ab- 
 surdity of that woman's nonsense; because, 
 though the cloud hung for a little over Sydney 
 Pleasance, it passed away." 
 
 " Did it, your honour .?"
 
 THE OUTLAW. 179 
 
 " Did it ! Why, of course it did ; all clouds 
 pass away." 
 
 ** I really don't know, your honour. I was 
 thinking of Cicely." 
 
 " And that is the interest you take in our 
 house ; upon my soul, I am much obliged to 
 you !" replied the captain spitefully, and vexed 
 to confess the truth at feeling so much inte- 
 rested in the matter. 
 
 " I ask your pardon, Master Basil ; I did 
 not suppose you cared so much about it, or 
 I would have looked ; but if you were only 
 in love yourself, you'd soon know how hard 
 it is to think of anything." 
 
 " Who told you I cared a bullet about it ? 
 Go, and saddle Brown Bess." 
 
 " Pray Jove I may see him soon in love !" 
 muttered Jemmings to himself; " then maybe 
 he 'd have some commiseration and justifica- 
 tion for a poor desolate creeter like me." 
 
 To state the progress of things as they really 
 were, it must be told that Basil pondered over 
 the nonsense he had heard until summoned by
 
 180 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Major Raymond to mount and away ; and his 
 thoughts were in no degree relieved from their 
 conjecture by Jemmings riding up to the side 
 of his high-bred mare, and (pointing with a 
 heavy riding-whip, that would pretty nearly 
 bear down even one of our gay lifeguardsmen 
 of the present day,) said in an under tone, 
 designed to be confidential, 
 
 " Yonder was wliere she was; but they're 
 all off — the devil knows where !" 
 
 " Here !" uttered a loud gruff voice, which 
 made them start ; and at the instant a thick, 
 muscular-looking woman, who they supposed 
 must have been concealed on the other side 
 of an oak-tree, one of the most venerable 
 denizens of the forest, stood in their road. 
 
 Major Raymond set spurs to his horse, in- 
 tending to pass, but she shouted, and waved 
 high above her head a branch of elder, which 
 she used as a walking-stick. 
 
 " Stand back ! stand back ! Many a steed 
 will ride over you when your time comes — 
 you will lie low — low enough, without a
 
 THE OUTLAW. 181 
 
 friend to close your eyes, and with only the 
 wild eagle to scream your knell — 
 
 " 'Tis the soldier's fate, 
 And soon or late, 
 He '11 die without sound of holy bell." 
 
 She flourished her stick so high, before the 
 head of his steed, that had not Major Ray- 
 mond been a good horseman, he would have 
 been overthrown. 
 
 " And you too, fair gentleman, shall 1 spell 
 your fortune.? I cannot, though, by day, for 
 the sun is an unbeliever, and will not let the 
 stars shine out my spells." 
 
 " I think, my good woman," said Basik 
 Sydney, " I have seen you before to-day ; and 
 to-day before. Canst spell me that .?'' 
 
 "Ah, ah! Master Basil — sweet basil was 
 a gentle, in quiet dress, and flourished beneath 
 the shade of an Orange lily, and that lily 
 
 * O'erspread the land 
 With a blood-red hand ! 
 And wasn't it silly 
 To suffer a lily 
 To shadow the whole of this blessed land.' ''
 
 182 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Begone !" exclaimed Major Raymond, in 
 fierce anger ; " this is one of your fire-brands 
 that play with the torches of destruction, and 
 affect a species of madness to cover their in- 
 tent. Throw back your hood. On my soul, 
 I think it 's no woman." 
 
 " The wonderful gift it has in poetry !" said 
 poor Jemmings. " I tried hard to make a 
 poem, and began it ' Dear Cicely Maynard,' 
 but could find nothing at all to rhyme with 
 it except ' hay -yard ;' and as that was incon- 
 tinently inapplicable, I stopped there." 
 
 This might be termed a soliloquy, for no- 
 body heard it except Jemmings himself and 
 Bony Black, his steed, who was as like him 
 in all things as horse can be to man ; except 
 inasmuch as it is not recorded that Bony 
 Black was ever in love. 
 
 The wild woman continued to intercept their 
 way, which Major Raymond was in no degree 
 inclined to tolerate, although both provoked 
 and astonished that Basil bore tlie interrup- 
 tion so quietly.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 183 
 
 She commenced again a sort of rude rhymes, 
 — and some of her sentences spoke powerfully 
 and fearfully to the heart of the heir of Sydney. 
 
 " Let those who roam, 
 Look well at home, 
 Where the blood-red hand 
 Lights the ready brand ; 
 For the sleuth-hound's cry 
 Is already nigh 
 The heedless wanderer's dwelling." 
 
 The words were spoken in a sort of under 
 tone, and the lips of the speaker were turned 
 towards Basil Sydney ; but the warning fell 
 only as a kind of mumbling murmur upon the' 
 ears of Major Raymond. The woman per- 
 ceiving that she had produced some effect 
 where it was intended, resumed in a louder 
 and more boisterous strain the continuation of 
 her prophetic rhymes. 
 
 At length the patience of Major Raymond 
 was becoming exhausted, and he made another 
 effort to induce his horse to gallop onwards. 
 Again did the rude gipsy plant herself in his
 
 184 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 way — and in a sort of triumphant tone ex- 
 claim — 
 
 " Ah ! young gentlemen, you think your- 
 selves mighty clever, and great soldiers ! And 
 here ye go hunting one poor devil, that you '11 
 never catch, instead of upholding King Jamie. 
 Away to your camp at Hounslow, and take 
 to him this," holding up a tattered shawl, " as 
 a slobbering bib ; for ere long he 11 have much 
 to swallow he won't like/' 
 
 " Now, by God's grace !" exclaimed Ray- 
 mond, " this is too much. If you do not get 
 out of our way, 1 11 make you remember this 
 meeting. It is by such that the peace of the 
 country and the safety of our blessed Monarch 
 are put in peril. Away ! I say ; nor stay us in 
 the path of duty by your foul gibbering." 
 
 But the woman still continued to annoy them 
 by her antics, until at last Major Raymond 
 sprang from his horse and grappled at her 
 cloak ; she was apparently unprepared for 
 such an attack. The only method of escape 
 left her was to leave it in the hands of the
 
 THE OUTLAW. 185 
 
 major, and away she flew like an Atalanta 
 along the forest path, and then plunged into 
 a dense thicket of brushwood, which the major 
 endeavoured in vain to penetrate. 
 
 '^ I ""ll swear she 's no woman !" exclaimed 
 Cuthbert to Basil, who had very quietly, at 
 least to all outward appearance, sat his hors6 
 the entire time. " Did you ever see such a 
 pair of legs ?" 
 
 " What have you done with the cloak, 
 Cuthbert .?" 
 
 " Yonder it lies, and may remain for me."' 
 
 " Humph ! " said Basil, slowly dismount- 
 ing, while Major Raymond sprang into his 
 saddle. 
 
 " Why, Sydney, what the devil are you 
 dismounting for ? You sat quietly enough 
 just now." 
 
 " To be sure I did ; one was enough at 
 the race : but there may be something in that 
 cloak." 
 
 " Gad, you 're right, Basil ; very odd that 
 never occurred to me."
 
 186 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Not at all odd, major ; you never think."" 
 
 " Maybe not. Well, shall I pay you for 
 thinking for me ? I would pay any one for 
 fretting for me, most cheerfully." 
 
 " It is a great saving to do both oneself,**' 
 replied Basil drily, as he took up the cloak. 
 '•What have we here — a purse! Ay, and a 
 heavy one." 
 
 A soldier on duty scents gold as a crow 
 doth carrion, and no sooner did the word 
 " gold " reach the ear of the shepherd soldier, 
 than down he sprang, and coming up to his 
 .master, enquired briskly if he should hold the 
 cloak. 
 
 " No, thank you, Jemmings," replied the 
 captain, quietly proceeding in the examina- 
 tion. " And here is a beard, — a mask, and 
 a phial of some dark dye. It is clear that this 
 waylayer is not what he seems — or she rather — 
 for I '11 be sworn the petticoat is as much a 
 mask as this painted pasteboard. Cuthbert, 
 let us look warily around us ; something more 
 than common is about to happen,"
 
 THE OUTLAW. 187 
 
 Jemmings thought that as his master pro- 
 ceeded in his search, he found a paper — a letter 
 it looked like — which he either slipped into his 
 sleeve, or thrust into his bosom. 
 
 " We may, I think, major, leave these mat- 
 ters as we found them, trusting to chance, or the 
 humours of this strange being, as to whether 
 the rightful owner reclaim them or not." 
 
 <« Very good," replied the major. 
 
 " But the purse, good master," ventured 
 Jemmings to suggest ; " the purse — his ho- 
 nour'^s servant and I have claim to the spoil 
 which your honours magnanimously reject — 
 have we not ?" 
 
 " Not in this instance, certainly," said Major 
 Raymond ; " we are soldiers, not robbers." 
 
 The party proceeded on their way ; but after 
 proceeding a little distance Sydney called out 
 to his servant, 
 
 " Hallo, Jemmings ! what are you turning 
 back for ?" 
 
 " Bony Black, please your honour, is so 
 restless."
 
 188 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Then give him the spur, and keep close ; 
 this is no place to prank in/* 
 
 " No, your honour,"" replied Jemmings, who, 
 for once, thought he might (as, to speak the 
 truth, he had often done before,) enquire into 
 the value of the spoil which his officers dis- 
 dained : a sudden turn in the road, however, 
 brought them in view of the spot where Basil 
 had left the cloak ; and though Jemmings and 
 his fellow-servant both strained their eyes most 
 anxiously, to catch even a glimpse of the scarlet 
 treasure, — it was gone ! 
 
 The officers, as they cantered on, drew 
 their horses closely together ; but though their 
 servants' ears, as is generally the case on such 
 occasions, were both sharp and on the alert, 
 they could discover nothing as to the pur- 
 port of their conversation. We shall there- 
 fore suffer them to proceed on tlieir way, and 
 take note of the proceedings at Sydney Plea- 
 sance. 
 
 It is very possible that Sir Everard would 
 have known nothing of his wife's anxiety to
 
 THE OUTLAW. 189 
 
 discover the refuge of that being, for whom, 
 perhaps, next to his son, he felt more interest 
 than for any other human creature, had it 
 not been explained to him by one of the 
 younger servants, unskilled in the habits of 
 the establishment, who had entered his sanc- 
 tum to seek for arms, which he considered 
 necessary on such a service ; in getting at an 
 old dagger, he unfortunately trod on the Per- 
 sian cat, who revenged herself after the most 
 natural cat fashion, a mode the youth in no 
 ways approved ; and Sir Everard reprimanded 
 him sharply for having touched the favourite, or 
 at all trespassed into his chamber. The rebuke 
 produced an explanation, which ended in Sir 
 Everard's leaving his favourite " Sylva" open 
 on the table, and stalking off to his wife's oratory, 
 where he had not been a visiter for many years, 
 and in which he was now an intruder, alike 
 unbidden and unwelcome. 
 
 Into that still and solemn chamber entered 
 the peace-loving lord of the mansion ; but it 
 was evident that no common motive brought
 
 190 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 him there — that no ordinary feelings called the 
 flush into his cheek, and made him assume a 
 tone and manner so unusual with him, as to 
 appear at the moment absolutely unnatural. 
 
 It is a most painful duty either to witness 
 or to record domestic quarrels ; they are at all 
 times harsh and unnatural ; unsightly and un- 
 seemly ; a virulent libel on the wisdom of the 
 Almighty, who, in permitting two to come to- 
 gether, recorded his mandate that " they two 
 should be one." It is appalling to note the 
 tyrannical particles of a man's temper, wrought 
 upon by the aggravating or ill-conditioned ob- 
 stinacy of her who, in the sight of God, swore 
 obedience to her husband. Man is a tyrant in 
 all countries, and has been so in all ages. In 
 some this evil disposition sleeps, because of 
 a natural inaptness to exertion ; while others 
 govern it with gentleness and discretion, for 
 which they merit gratitude and praise, when 
 consideration is given to the great power which 
 laws divine and human have confided to their 
 hands : but obedience is a woman's duty ; and
 
 THE OUTLAW. 191 
 
 when a duty is to be performed, it is not fitting 
 to enquire whether it be sweet or sour, rough 
 or smooth, — enough that it is a duty ; and a 
 proper confidence in the behests of the Al- 
 mighty, combined with a due mistrust of our 
 own judgments, will make us cheerful, — if not 
 cheerful, contented, — under all the decrees of 
 Him who hath ordered all things wisely. We 
 have ever eschewed contention at home and 
 abroad, and we have found our benefit there- 
 in ; for we have neither called forth the evil 
 passions of others, nor aroused our own : 
 there is an ancient saying of much beauty, 
 " A clean and peaceful home is a dwelling for 
 a queen." 
 
 Lady Sydney had so long exercised uncon- 
 trolled power, that the fact of Sir Everard 
 disputing her desires was something at once so 
 new and so animating, that she hardly knew 
 what to understand by the tone and temper he 
 betrayed. 
 
 It was like the encounter of two mighty 
 winds, for he was the more strong because
 
 192 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 of long repose ; and she, from bitter practice, 
 knew how to turn and shift so as to strive best 
 for mastery. She had ever before acted on this 
 plan with success ; but now the course of events 
 was changed. Sir Everard asserted his right 
 to command in his own house, in a manner at 
 once mild and firm ; but it was a manner so 
 unusual, as almost to make his lady consider 
 him demented. 
 
 IJe was, however, more warm than prudent in 
 forbidding the domestics to assist the soldiers 
 in their search ; but the servants, ever more at- 
 tached to the gentle than to the coercive power, 
 " were right glad," as they expressed it among 
 themselves, " to see their master pluck up a 
 spirit." Lady Sydney, mortified, and alarmed 
 at the probable consequences of his avowed 
 disinclination to favour the pursuit of a no- 
 torious outlaw, at length silently retired, and 
 shut herself up in her chamber, where she 
 resolved to remain until her son's return, 
 which she looked for late that night or early on 
 the morrow.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 193 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 I do owe 
 Somewhat to dust : my body's pamper'd care 
 Hungry corruption and the worm will share. 
 That mould 'ring relic which in earth must lie 
 Would prove a gift of horror to thine eye. 
 
 Dr. King. 
 
 The old church of Brokenhurst now presents 
 a beautiful object to a traveller in search of the 
 picturesque, and affords a rare treat to the an- 
 tiquary; it is said to have been of Saxon ori- 
 gin ; its font was evidently formed when it was 
 customary to submerge the entire body. Be- 
 neath the spot on which this font stood was the 
 family vault of the Sydneys, and the moulder- 
 ing remains of many of the name crumbled in 
 forgetfulness beneath the banners which their 
 prowess had won in the Holy Land. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 It was believed to have been some years 
 since it was opened : once only, since the death 
 of Sir Everard's father, when it was found 
 necessary to remove a couple of stones from 
 a portion of the chapel wall, in order to obtain 
 security from the damps which had previously 
 issued from the vault, and alarmed the fre- 
 quenters of the holy house. Such dreary re- 
 ceptacles are at all times most loathsome to the 
 living, who turn from the mementos of death 
 with a repugnance which they can scarcely 
 credit, when they call to mind the enduring 
 love they once cherished for the departed be- 
 ings who rest quietly within. There are but 
 few who care to enter a church-yard in the chill 
 and lonely hour of midnight — and the clouds 
 that pass — the rain that falls — the deepening 
 thunder — seem all more heavy and important, 
 when viewed in association with the tombs and 
 relics of mortality. It was considerably past 
 eleven at night, and a sharp and gusty wind 
 told that Summer had been reproved for her 
 somewhat hasty progress, by the growling
 
 THE OUTLAW. 195 
 
 Storms of discontented Winter. The ser- 
 geant, who, truth to say, seldom met with 
 kindly quarters, established himself, after a 
 day of anxious and diligent search, in a warm 
 arm-chair, in the chimney-corner of the hos- 
 pitable kitchen of Sydney Pleasance ; and his 
 comrade Bill had not been slow to follow his 
 example. 
 
 " The night is so dark," said he, as a sort of 
 excuse to himself and others for his seeming 
 listlessness, a fault of which he was seldom 
 guilty ; " the night is so dark, and the rain so 
 sweeping, that if the Outlaw were under oub 
 nose we could not see him ; and my thought is, 
 that neither of the gentlemen will return from 
 Beaulieu to-night." 
 
 This opinion was seconded by the servants, 
 who wished, at all events, that their young 
 master, soldier though he was, might not be 
 exposed to the pelting of the " pitiless storm " 
 that howled around the comfortable dwelling. 
 
 Soon after the Pleasance clock struck twelve. 
 Sir Everard Sydney extinguished the light in 
 
 k2
 
 196 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 his study, and wrapping himself carefully in 
 a long dark cloak, proceeded with a noiseless 
 step and a watchful eye, under cover of the 
 trees, towards the track that led to the church 
 of Brokenhurst. Every path, almost every 
 flower, within a circuit of at least ten miles, 
 was known to the zealous naturalist by night 
 or day ; and he used to boast he could find 
 any given tree within that circuit, with his 
 eyes blindfold, so perfect was his memory, and 
 so intimate his acquaintance with those he 
 called " his wise and silent friends." Ralph 
 had been his perpetual companion ; and now, 
 though conscious that his poor wounded ser- 
 vant was away for the first time from his side, 
 so strong was the force of habit, that he turned 
 round ever and anon to speak to him, and then 
 resumed his walk with a deep sigh of regret 
 that he was absent. In general Sir Everard's 
 walks were connected with his favourite pur- 
 suits ; and his moonlight expeditions had been 
 frequently shared with poor Rosalind, upon 
 whom he often thought ; but if he agreed
 
 THE OUTLAW. 197 
 
 with Lady Sydney upon any point, it was that 
 of preventing his son and the offspring of his 
 brother's illicit connexion from forming an at- 
 tachment for each other. Like all fathers, he 
 had high and great anticipations for the settle- 
 ment of his child ; and much as he loved Ro- 
 salind, he desired not to think of her as the 
 bride of the future Sir Basil. 
 
 But Sir Everard was not now bent on any or- 
 dinary object ; it was neither to investigate nests 
 of air or earth that he wandered so stealthily 
 through his own green woods : once, and once 
 only, he paused, and it was to raise from the 
 ground a young staring owl that had fallen from 
 its hole in the fork of an old ivy bush, and lay 
 hissing and sprawling on the wet grass, while 
 its loving but stupid mother flew screaming 
 over it, unable to assist it to regain its brood- 
 ing place. Sir Everard replaced it with ten- 
 derness and care amongst its companions : then 
 entering the church-yard, and after looking 
 carefully round, prying into the inmost recesses 
 of darkness, which on such a night seemed
 
 198 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 almost unnecessary, he entered the church, and, 
 striking a light, proceeded to unlock the vault 
 which contained the bones of his progenitors. 
 Oh ! but it was loathsome as he descended the 
 steps of the dim cavern ! The festering walls, 
 where the most noxious insects sported their 
 disgusting forms, or trailed their slimy length 
 from stone to stone ; the slippery pavement, that 
 betrayed the unwary foot; the coffins piled 
 upon each other, the plates, on some, glittering, 
 as if in mockery of those whose ages and vir- 
 tuous deeds they registered ! the damp cold 
 chill, creeping as it were into the vitals, and 
 grasping the warm heart that almost froze 
 beneath its icy fangs; — and yet, within that 
 putrid den, there was a living man — a man who 
 trusted to its horrors for protection, as one 
 relies upon the bounty of a friend for succour 
 in a time of need : it was the refuge of the 
 hunted Outlaw ! He had displaced a coffin, the 
 coffin apparently of some young person, and 
 had drawn a wooden bench, whereon it stood, 
 close to the aperture where the stones had been
 
 THE OUTLAW. 199 
 
 removed to admit the air : on this he vvas 
 seated, his head supported by his hand ; the 
 faint breeze admitted through that small open- 
 ing came coolly on his cheek ; upon his knee 
 there lay a closed book ; and he continued 
 seated for a moment or two after Sir Everard 
 descended. This apparent coolness was not of 
 long duration, the two aged men were speedily 
 locked in each other'*s embrace, and, after a 
 brief pause, during which neither broke the 
 deep silence of the charnel-house. Sir Everard 
 turned his face to the wall and wept.
 
 200 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 But justice, and some fatal curse annex'd, 
 Deprives them of their outward liberty. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 The Outlaw folded his arms while his friend 
 was weeping, and offered neither consolation 
 nor reproof at what some, who know not the 
 tenderness and have never experienced the 
 luxury of tears, would have described as an 
 unmanly burst of grief. Sir Everard recover- 
 ed his self-possession more quickly than might 
 have been expected from the softness of his 
 nature, and then withdrew from the pockets 
 of his cloak both food and wine. The Out- 
 law's eye sparkled as it rested on the food, 
 and the painful anxiety of hunger agitated 
 his high and expressive features. He seized
 
 THE OUTLAW. 20 i 
 
 the wine-flask and drank a deep draught; 
 then, resting the vessel upon a cofRn-lid, he 
 seemed ashamed of the eagerness he had be- 
 trayed, and the dignity he had sacrificed. 
 
 '' Forgive nie, old friend," he said at last ; 
 *' but those who wander as I have done, know 
 that there are times when starvation gets the 
 better of good breeding. I have not tasted 
 food or water for more than twenty-four 
 hours."" 
 
 " Now, Heaven help me !" exclaimed Sir 
 Everard ; " if I had ventured out before, I 
 should of a surety have been seen, and then 
 would have followed your utter destruction, 
 which I am not now so circumstanced as to 
 prevent. That honest creature, Ralph, is 
 badly wounded. Nay, start not, his life is 
 safe ; but, had not this sad chance happened, 
 you would have had food ere this." 
 
 " Food !" repeated the Outlaw, " ay, food 
 that is necessary to the creature — but think 
 ye not that I have had food ? Ay, sir, a 
 moral banquet have I had here I Sir, I have 
 
 K 5
 
 202 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 infused a spirit into this rottenness, gifted 
 these dry bones with motion, recalled the 
 speculation to these eyeless sockets, decked 
 the fleshless teeth with rubies, and lent sweet 
 music to the tongue. I have talked with 
 those who have been great and powerful in 
 ancient times — companions of kings — those 
 titled murderers, who have sown destruction 
 and reaped the whirlwind — who have plunged 
 knee-deep in blood, and heaped up skulls 
 until they formed ladders to a throne : and 
 we have been of one mind, sir, as to their 
 merits ! Trust me, such neighbours are no 
 bad associates for a gentleman in such re- 
 tirement !" 
 
 Sir Everard Sydney looked upon his friend 
 and trembled, fearing that the privations he 
 had undergone had done their worst, and that 
 the noble and aspiring mind of the Outlaw 
 was sinking beneath the sufferings of the body. 
 There was a fever on his cheek, a brightness 
 in his eye, a restlessness about his motions, 
 that strengthened this suspicion ; and the kind
 
 THE OUTLAW. 203 
 
 baronet, hoping that refreshment would recall 
 him from his wanderings, pressed him to sit 
 down and eat of what he had brought. 
 
 " 'Tis a strange room for banqueting," he 
 replied, looking round him ; " but no matter ! 
 sit you on that coffin, and here is my throne. 
 I should have been suffocated in this place 
 but for that loophole ; and, perhaps, have gone 
 mad, God help me ! my brain was so hot, 
 but for this book. There is nought which 
 solaces in trouble and comforts in affliction 
 like the Psalms of holy David — * the man 
 after God's own heart.'" ^ 
 
 Sir Everard noted that the volume he had 
 been perusing was Buchanan's beautiful Latin 
 version of the Psalms. 
 
 •"' When there was not light enough to con- 
 tinue reading, I amused myself by repeating 
 what I had read ; so," said he, clasping his 
 hands, " the Lord is still merciful to his ser- 
 vant. Sit you down then, my friend, and I 
 will endeavour to collect my thoughts, which 
 have, despite this sacred company, wandered
 
 504 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 from pain to pain — each change of thought 
 has been but one misery for another. Why 
 sit you not ? That seat, covered with dainty 
 cloth, will surely serve your purpose." 
 
 " I cannot sit on that,'''' said Sir Everard, 
 shuddering; "it is the coffin of my eldest- 
 born." 
 
 " Now, God forgive me !" exclaimed the 
 Outlaw with much emotion ; " here have I 
 been heedless of the scene to which I brought 
 you. Alas ! how selfish doth sorrow make 
 us ! It hardens the tenderest hearts, and we 
 forget the misfortunes of others while dwelling 
 upon our own." 
 
 Sir Everard passed his hand across his brow 
 while he returned the pressure of his friend, 
 and thanked him in his heart for sympa- 
 thizing in his feelings, which had been sadly 
 tried and excited from various and recent 
 events. 
 
 " News has reached the Forest this morn- 
 ing of the triumphant acquittal of the bishops," 
 said Sir Everard, who remained standing while
 
 THE OUTLAW. 205 
 
 the Outlaw partook of the refreshment he had 
 laid before him. 
 
 " And James Stuart P'"* enquired the Out- 
 law eagerly. 
 
 " The King is much enraged, and threatens, 
 I know not what, — to imprison and compel 
 obedience." 
 
 "The fool! the mad, infatuated fool! — 
 But let him go on — a few months — a few 
 weeks, if the Lord heareth the prayers of his 
 people, will decide." 
 
 " Yet, after all, if what you and your 
 party desire be accomplished to the fullest, 
 extent, it will be only the exchange of one 
 king for another. This, to me, is a matter 
 of no moment ; but to you, who think a com- 
 monwealth the only fitting and natural mode 
 of government " 
 
 " I know what you would say, and am pre- 
 pared to answer. It is better at least to have 
 one who will support our faith, than one who 
 sets the Beast in dominion over us. James 
 Stuart has violated his vows, and produced
 
 206 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 acts within this realm that make the very 
 hair of my head to stand on end. I speak not 
 of the public murders committed where I 
 myself was a condemned criminal, because the 
 yery eyes of Europe are tinged with blood at 
 beholding such enormities. I speak not for 
 that I have been hunted from house and home, 
 and that the Lord hath honoured a miserable 
 sinner like myself by enabling him to count 
 perils and privations with holy Paul ; but I 
 speak of the insults offered to the British pen- 
 non, that emblem so respected in the days of 
 the Protectorate, that every staff was lowered 
 when the flag of England waved proudly in the 
 breeze, — the insult of introducing their mass 
 and their mummery aboard the fleet. Is there 
 not, in direct opposition to the constitution, a 
 nuncio of the Pope now resident in London ? 
 Was I not myself, in the tattered disguise of a 
 beggar, witness to the King's endeavour to 
 force his brave troops to give their consent to 
 the repeal of the test and penal statutes ? Did 
 I not see the fine and orderly battalion arrayed
 
 THE OUTLAW. 207 
 
 before his Majesty, and hear them told, that 
 they must either enter into his Majesty's views 
 in these particulars, or lay down their arms? 
 Did I not note the flush of anticipated triumph 
 upon his cheek when this appeal was made? 
 Did I not watch his eye, drinking in the fine 
 proportions and lofty mien of these British sol- 
 diers, and looking upon them with the proud 
 look which declared ' they are mine !' And 
 did I not see them, almost to a man, ground 
 their weapons in utter but in eloquent silence, 
 while a shout from the surrounding multitude 
 thundered through the air, telling to the hea- 
 vens the triumph of honest principles over the 
 violated vows of a titled tyrant ! James paled, 
 though his brow darkened ; his lip quivered ; 
 his hand played with his sword-knot, as he 
 would draw it forth ; and then, with an altered 
 mien, he desired them ' to take up their arms, 
 and that in future he would not do them the 
 honour to apply for their approbation.' What 
 would I have done in such a case? I would not 
 have deigned to command the bodies without
 
 208 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 the hearts of such soldiers ; I would have 
 seized the flag-stafF of England, and planting 
 it in the earth, stood beneath its shadow, and 
 called upon the multitude to send recruits to a 
 king, who, whatever might be his own feelings, 
 would never again force, or endeavour to force 
 them upon his people.""' 
 
 '^ Methinks you would have done foolishly,'"' 
 said Sir Everard"'s quiet voice. " We are more 
 a thinking than an enthusiastic people."" 
 
 " To have done greatly, is often, in the esti- 
 mation of the world, to have done foolishly," 
 replied the Outlaw ; the enthusiasm with which 
 he ran away with his subject being tempered, 
 for a time, by Sir Everard's coolness. " Yet a 
 great action will be remembered when a wise 
 one is forgotten."" 
 
 " True, my friend ; but which are we most 
 bound to live for, the present or the fu- 
 ture ?"' 
 
 " Nature," he replied, " ever sacrifices the 
 present to the future. We were the future 
 once, and our wants were cared for ; therefore
 
 THE OUTLAW. 209 
 
 should we think most of that which is to come. 
 To act only with regard to the present, is self- 
 ish ; to act with a view to benefit futurity, is 
 taking an arrow of good from the Lord's 
 quiver." 
 
 " True," said the naturalist, " that is most 
 true, and yet, to me, somewhat difficult to 
 think upon. It is, however, a principle in 
 nature ; for the bird lays its egg, and the 
 oak sows its acorn, and both are for here- 
 after." 
 
 " Wilt let me read that account of the 
 Lord's great triumph in the acquittal of those 
 men, whom I much honour, though I would 
 they were of a purer faith ; for error hath 
 crept in amongst them, as well as amongst the 
 papists ; and amongst them all will it take root, 
 if the indulgences of the flesh are maintained 
 with worldly pomp, which is not the religion 
 of Christ.'' 
 
 Sir Everard gave him the paper, and could 
 not avoid saying somewhat in an under tone, 
 " that no wonder kings were unpopular, they
 
 ^10 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 had so many men of many minds to sa- 
 tisfy." 
 
 The Outlaw fixed his deep expressive eye 
 upon Sir Everard, with a meaning which he 
 could not mistake ; and then, while slowly 
 unfolding the journal, he repeated a text of 
 Scripture. 
 
 " So, then because thou art lukewarm, and 
 neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of 
 my mouth." 
 
 Sir Everard only smiled at the sarcasm, for 
 he, benevolent creature, knew that adversity 
 makes men bitter, and he pondered within his 
 own kind and simple mind how it was, that 
 those well read, and eloquent in Scripture 
 matters, were yet often harsh-judging of their 
 neighbours, and forgetful of that beautiful 
 text, one of the purest amongst the pure 
 which dropped from our Saviour's lips, 
 
 " Judge not, that ye be not judged."" 
 
 Yet did not Sir Everard, therefore, the less 
 esteem his friend, inasmuch as it was the habit 
 of his nature to charge to the account of
 
 THE OUTLAW. SI 1 
 
 human frailty whatever faults he was compelled 
 to espy in others ; and upon such discovery he 
 murmured a secret prayer, that God would 
 overlook them or lessen their magnitude : in- 
 deed, the worthy man was in all his feelings, 
 and in all his doings, an example of practical 
 piety, blending much learning and reflection 
 with sp much of almost child-like simplicity, 
 that one would have imagined him a being set 
 apart, no less by constitution than habit, from 
 the turmoils of the world and those who dwell 
 therein. 
 
 It was a singular but a chilling sight, within 
 that dark storehouse of decaying mortality, to 
 behold two beings so opposite and so occupied. 
 The Outlaw had placed the lamp on his knee, 
 and holding the paper before it, read with avidi- 
 ty the passages that treated of the subject upon 
 which they had spoken ; the light glared upon 
 his face, which kept but a flitting register of 
 the thoughts that passed rapidly through his 
 eager and anxious mind ; while beyond the 
 small circle of its rays, the mists of the vault
 
 212 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 formed a sort of filmy atmosphere, that gave 
 to Sir Everard, as he paced up and down the 
 long and narrow cavern, an unearthly aspect 
 and character ; he seemed, indeed, like a dis- 
 embodied spirit descended to look upon that 
 clay which was once his home-dwelling, as 
 " with silent steps and slow" he moved among 
 the relics of his ancestors. He wished that 
 Basil had been with him, for he loved to talk 
 of the virtues of the dead, and to draw conclu- 
 sions from the wisdom of God, and his grace 
 in providing for an immortal spirit an abiding 
 place beyond the sky, where the mortal shall 
 put on immortality. His reverie was at length 
 interrupted by the Outlaw springing to his feet, 
 and exclaiming, 
 
 " Now would I give a thousand crowns to'be 
 able to face the sun at noon, and from the 
 tower of St. Paul's proclaim with a voice of 
 thunder that which hath been entrusted to my 
 judgment and care. Oh, that you were not the 
 tamed " 
 
 " The tamed what ?" enquired Sir Everard,
 
 THE OUTLAW. 213 
 
 somewhat sternly, taking advantage of the 
 pause which his companion had made. " Do 
 not think me tame because my nature differs 
 from yours. 1 have a heart as firm, and a spirit 
 as true as any, when need is."' 
 
 The Outlaw threw oif his vest, and unclosing 
 his shirt, drew from round his body a strip of 
 parchment. 
 
 " Behold !*" said he, *' here is Nassau's decla- 
 ration to stir up the friends of religious liberty. 
 See — here he sets forth the national grievances 
 — the dispensing and suspending power — the 
 raising of a Jesuit to be privy counsellor — the 
 annulling of the charters of all corporations — 
 the violent presumptions against the legitimacy 
 of the young Prince — all — all is here set forth ; 
 and his promise— his solemn engagement to 
 have these grievances redressed, and to see a 
 legal and free parliament assembled, to provide 
 for the safety and liberties of the nation. This 
 sacred pledge was given into my keeping, to 
 have a sufficient number printed by a secret 
 friend in London, and distributed the moment
 
 214 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Nassau lands. Yet here am I fettered — hunted 
 by these bloodhounds, driven in despite of all 
 the vows I had made, and all the principles I 
 cherish, to that which my soul abhorred — 
 driven to take sanctuary within the stronghold 
 of Babylon, even at the very altar of the house 
 of Popish Antichrist ! And all this sacrifice 
 have I made because of the sacred deposit en- 
 trusted to me — the rich burthen I carry, now 
 as useless as this piece of crumbling timber, 
 which my fingers press into dust. Alas ! alas !'' 
 
 " Alas ! indeed,"' said Sir Everard, " for in 
 this I cannot aid you. I am myself more than 
 suspected, and if this were found !" 
 
 " I know what would follow, nor do I call 
 upon you thus to peril life. If poor Ralph 
 
 had not been wounded !"" The Outlaw 
 
 covered his face, and then, flinging the parch- 
 ment from him, exclaimed, " I shall go mad, 
 unless God in his mercy preserves my reason for 
 some good end. After escaping to this vault 
 last night, faint and worn in body and in spirit, 
 you know not by what dreadful struggles I
 
 THE OUTLAW. 215 
 
 retained my senses. Grim and unholy spectres 
 flitted round me; strange mocking whispers 
 buzzed into mine ears ; and from yonder nook 
 the green and putrid light of festering morta- 
 lity made frightful holiday amongst the cof- 
 fins ! No, no, no ! if I meet death without the 
 doors — here I cannot stay." 
 
 " But your purpose !" 
 
 " Ay, that it is— ay, that it is. What else 
 under heaven do I li ve for ? Surely not to be 
 hunted like a felon's dog, proclaimed and 
 priced, and blasted ! No smiling home to 
 welcome me from my sad journey ings ! No 
 wife — no child — no social hearth ! But then 
 my purpose ; my glorious purpose ! the cause 
 that Milton sung, and Hampden died for I 
 My country'^s freedom ! Achieving that, death 
 is the patriot's crown, and not his punishment. 
 Here I cannot stay !" 
 
 Sir Everard, who still dreaded some catas- 
 trophe from the effects of his heated imagina- 
 tion, counselled wisely, gently, and affection- 
 ately, and, moreover, told him he made no doubt
 
 216 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 that Basil might b^ disposed towards a change. 
 Disgusted with the present state of affairs he 
 knew him to be; and, he said, he had also 
 learned that many of the young men at head- 
 quarters, sons of the opulent and powerful, 
 entertained similar opinions, and only waited 
 for a fitting opportunity to come forth and 
 show the world their sentiments."" 
 
 " A fitting opportunity !" repeated the Out- 
 law, contemptuously : " that is always the cant 
 phrase of your moderate men ; they wait a Jit- 
 ting opportunity in all things : and yet they let 
 the best opportunities go by, until too late to 
 seize them ! Many of the most considerable 
 persons, both in Church and State, have, long 
 ago, made private applications through Dykvelt 
 to the Prince. Your own cousin, Henry Syd- 
 ney, has been to Holland to concert measures ; 
 and the Bishop of London, the Earls of Danby, 
 Nottingham, Devonshire, Dorset, the Duke of 
 Norfolk, the Lords Lovelace, Delamere, Paulet, 
 Eland, and a thousand others whom I could 
 name, though of opposite parties, are united in
 
 THE OUTLAW. 217 
 
 this ! Yet a few paltry boys, unfledged sol- 
 diers — boys, I say, talk about a fitting oppor- 
 tunity ! Good sooth ! they are pretty judges in 
 such a case r 
 
 " But prudence, my good friend." 
 
 " Prudence never made a patriot. Prudence 
 is the light beneath the bushel — the crafts- 
 man''s virtue, when he refuses credit — the in- 
 stinct of the mole — the badger's cleverness ; — 
 out upon it ! And out, I say, upon myself for 
 being here ! Nassau will land, most probably 
 at Torbay ; but the people there are so terri- 
 fied by the remembrance even of the executions 
 that followed poor Monmouth's rebellion, that 
 ten to one if the boors will aid ; though, were 
 they of my mind, the injuries they have re- 
 ceived would be a spur to their intent. Churchill 
 will be the first to act against his master.'' 
 
 " The mean, pitiful fellow !" exclaimed Sir 
 Everard, warmly. " I remember him a waiting- 
 page in the King's room. He owes all to his 
 bounty." 
 
 " I cannot think well of him, myself; and yet 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 J218 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 he will be accounted great, one of those days ; 
 or he will be — what passes current with the 
 world for greatness — he will be successful."' 
 
 " Poor James !" said the kind Sir Everard ; 
 " his foes are those of his own household !" 
 
 " And if he cannot make friends of those the 
 world calls kindred, how can he expect them of 
 the people ? Though of my own experience I 
 can say that the ties of relationship are as of 
 sand — a true friend is more to me than kith or 
 kin." 
 
 " I love to perpetuate friendships,'* said Sir 
 Everard, affectionately. '' My poor dying bro- 
 ther committed two to my care ; his child to be 
 as mine own, and you to be " 
 
 " A sorry friend, as friendships are esteemed." 
 
 " Not so. I look upon you as one of the old 
 denizens of the forest of liberty. I promised 
 him that I would regard you as a brother ; have 
 I failed in my engagement ? Answer me this 
 question above the cofRn-lid that moulders over 
 his bones." 
 
 The Outlaw grasped the hand of Sir Eve-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 219 
 
 rard with that strong and stormy emotion 
 which characterised all his actions, and replied, 
 " You have kept it in spirit and in truth ; 
 above his bones I thank you, and bless bis me- 
 mory !" Then, after the pause of a few moments, 
 he enquired in a calmer tone how the child 
 was which had been bequeathed unto his care. 
 
 " She is well ; but for certain reasons is for a 
 time under the care of the abbess of St. Mary's." 
 
 " What ! entrust his child to the keeping 
 of popedom ! The Lady Mary Powis is good 
 and gentle : her creed has saved her from 
 much misery in one way ; had she not been, 
 what she is, she would have been my bride ! 
 It was a fair dream of my boyhood, and she 
 was a lovely creature then — so fresh, so fair, 
 so innocent, so confiding, — converting her 
 gloomy faith into a beautiful poem, of which 
 she was the heroine, and in her dreams lead- 
 ing me to her belief. God help us all ! it 
 was my sorest temptation, for well we loved 
 each other. I should have hardly known her 
 but for the tones of her sweet voice." 
 
 l2
 
 S20 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 The Outlaw paused for a time ; his features 
 softened, and his eyes appeared to recall the 
 gentle visions of bygone years. He sighed 
 heavily, and Sir Everard imagined that a tear 
 lingered upon the half-closed lids; but it was 
 speedily repressed, and his countenance re- 
 gained its usually stern and almost wild expres- 
 sion, as he reverted to the manifesto, and the 
 hope he entertained of conveying a copy of 
 it to a certain friend whom he believed was 
 at that very time in the New Forest. With 
 as much coolness as if seated at a bureau, 
 he drew forth writing materials ; and placing 
 the book he had been reading on his knee, 
 forthwith commenced inditing a letter to his 
 friend, and copied with exceeding care the 
 proclamation of him who was afterwards Wil- 
 liam the Third of England. He then directed 
 Sir Everard to take the letter to a certain 
 tree, not very far distant from Brokenhurst, 
 on the road to Ober Green, having enfolded it 
 in a leaf of the wild dock, fastened by the 
 feather of a hawk's wing, as emblematic of
 
 THE OUTLAW. 2^1 
 
 both war and speed. " It might be," he added, 
 '' that Sir Everard would find some letters in 
 the cavity of the tree ; and if any were en- 
 veloped in a similar manner, and had a feather 
 of the green plover thrust into the opening, 
 such missive would be for him." Many of 
 like circumstances with himself, he said, lin- 
 gered in a neighbourhood which possessed so 
 many retreats; and where the foresters, to a 
 man, found the will and the means to give 
 them shelter and facilitate their concealment. 
 If Sir Everard noted any packet of that de- 
 scription, it would be necessary to let him. 
 have it the next night. He doubted not that 
 the search after him would be soon directed 
 to another quarter of the forest ; as, when- 
 ever any of their friends were in great peril, 
 those at liberty had the custom of spreading 
 such reports as diverted the attention of the 
 soldiery, and by those means enabled the closely- 
 hunted to escape. 
 
 " Poor Ralph," he continued, '•' has often 
 performed such messages for me; and one of
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 my greatest anxieties is, that he should be in 
 so sad a strait as that which at present en- 
 compasses him. I have ever observed that the 
 half-witted have an animal dread of bodily 
 pain." 
 
 " He will be about in a day or two, I hope 
 and trust," replied Sir Everard ; " and then, 
 poor fellow, he will again be useful. I only 
 hope I may perform my mission as well as 
 he would do his." 
 
 " But, Sir Everard, you surely do not in- 
 tend to leave that child in the hands of 
 Babylon !" exclaimed the Outlaw, his mind, 
 ever anxious and restless, wandering from sub- 
 ject to subject with a rapidity beyond that of 
 the lightning : " the child may be wrought 
 over." 
 
 " Not likely, my good friend ; Rosalind is 
 eighteen and upwards, and devoted to our 
 faith." 
 
 " Rosalind !" repeated the Outlaw ; " is that 
 her name? Of a surety I saw her at the 
 Priory — the child of mine ancient friend ! — of
 
 THE OUTLAW. 22S 
 
 him whose life I once saved, and who has so 
 often saved mine. Oh ! the mystery, that God 
 should preserve the flower in the germ, yet 
 suffer it to be blasted ere it is ripe ! I heard 
 Lady Mary Powis speak, and call Rosalind, 
 to a fair girl ; but she did little recall to 
 me the gay, bold, lion-hearted companion of 
 my youth ; nor was she either like her wretch- 
 ed mother — not that I was in a state to 
 judge;* 
 
 " I go to perform my task," said Sir Eve- 
 rard, " and only lament that I should leave 
 you in such a gloomy dwelling. But cheer, 
 cheer ! the news I brought has brightened still 
 more your prospects and your hopes." 
 
 " Even as the dark thunder mingles with 
 the forked lightning on this dreadful night, 
 such are the lights and shades, the hopes and 
 fears, that a revolution must bring upon this 
 land ; and yet these storms and whirlwinds 
 purify the air, and the greater the tempest 
 the more delicious the serenity that succeeds. 
 Is it not so ?""'
 
 224 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 "God grant it!" said Sir Everard. "We 
 thought to have had long rest after the com- 
 motions of the Commonwealth and the Re- 
 storation ; yet here we are again upon a sea 
 of troubles." 
 
 ''Ay — and better, a thousand times better, 
 to be overwhelmed in such a sea than to exist 
 and be pointed at as the gilded merchants in 
 slavery — the traffickers, in tame and senseless 
 obedience — the dogs with gilt collars and gold 
 crosses — idiots, whom the Pope himself in- 
 sults ! Oh ! I would cut my own heart asunder 
 sooner than suffer slavery to take root in 
 Britain ! Give me a hut upon the Andes, 
 where I can kneel and worship God in my 
 own fashion." 
 
 " Harold !" interrupted Sir Everard, " let 
 me entreat you to quell these bursts of fiery 
 passion ; they will exhaust your powers. Here 
 you can worship God, surrounded by the 
 moulderings, the crumblings of this our perish- 
 ing world : still you can mount to heaven, 
 and commune there with those who taught
 
 THE OUTLAW. 225 
 
 ' Peace on earth, good will towards men.' 
 Promise, for my brother's sake, for the sake 
 of the friendship that has bound us together 
 for so many years, that you will temper this 
 wildness." Here Sir Everard placed a Bible 
 in his hands, and laid upon the ground a few 
 other books he had brought for his solace and 
 amusement. " These sweet silent friends teach 
 wisdom, and never betray. Heaven's bless- 
 ing and Heaven's consolation be upon you I" 
 
 The old man reascended the loathsome steps, 
 and only paused at the entrance to look down 
 and wave his hand to Harold the Outlaw ; but, 
 he did not see the friendly gesture, for he had 
 followed the advice so kindly and judiciously 
 given, and, with his usual impetuosity, had 
 fallen upon his knees on the damp earth in 
 prayer. 
 
 l5
 
 226 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Wondrous it is to see in diverse mindes. 
 
 How diversely Love doth his pageants play, 
 And shews his power in variable kinds. 
 
 The baser wit, whose idle thoughts alway 
 Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay, 
 
 It stirreth unto sensual desire, 
 And in rude sloth to waste its careless day; 
 
 But in brave sprites it kindles goodly fire 
 That to all high desert and honour doth aspire. 
 
 Spensee. 
 
 It is pleasant to turn from the aged, and 
 the worn, and the stormy, in the strange and 
 eventful encounters of life, and to relieve the 
 thoughts and the feelings of their care or sadness 
 by gazing upon that which is green, and fresh, 
 and tranquil. We may exult and triumph in 
 the gay and busy scenes that must engross 
 much of our attention as we climb the hill which
 
 THE OUTLAW. 227 
 
 leads to immortality. The court and camp will 
 fever and excite, the gold will glitter, and the 
 trump will ring its merry music, and our eyes 
 will glisten, and our hearts beat in joyous ca- 
 dence to this world's bravery and idle pomp ; 
 but before the play is half concluded, we 
 sicken of the spectacle, and we turn to — what ? 
 — to new spectacles, and added magnificence 
 to other pomps, and louder music. If we do, 
 our weariness increases by the false food we 
 feed upon : let us seek refreshment where it is 
 to be found — by the silver brook, under the 
 waving trees, and listen to the voice of wisdom,^ 
 which speaks in silent eloquence from every 
 leaf, and flower, and herb, that clothes the 
 earth with beauty ; let us fathom, if we can, 
 the mysteries of nature ; dive deep into the 
 mine, or scan the mountain, and praise and 
 wonder, and long for the coming of that period 
 when all shall be explained to our unfettered 
 souls ; let us explore the magic that dyes the 
 cowslip yellow, and then seek out the perfume 
 of the violet, and we shall be the better for the
 
 2^8 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 knowledge that we are limited at every step, 
 and lack the freedom of the small singing bird 
 who bathes his wing in aether. 
 
 " God made the country, man the town," 
 saith the poet ; and the poet spoke truly, and, 
 in good sooth, poets speak truths more fre- 
 quently than is believed of them ; they are the 
 salt of the intellectual world, seasoning most 
 aptly all the good things of life. Amongst the 
 fresh and beautiful objects on which we have 
 been moralizing, perhaps not exactly in Novel 
 strain, one of the most beautiful was Rosalind 
 Sydney, as she sat, under a magnificent alder, 
 in the garden appertaining to Beaulieu, on a 
 green and grassy mound, which some of the 
 sisters had raised with their own hands in a 
 silent nook, looking down upon a mossy dell, 
 that was intersected by the streamlets of Beau- 
 lieu river. The old hound had given proof 
 of his powers by tracing his mistress to the 
 convent; and the abbess, who was from her 
 situation obliged to prevent the contagion, 
 which, of all others, spreads the most quickly
 
 THE OUTLAW. 2j29 
 
 amongst the young — that of insubordination, 
 while forbidding the pupils to associate with 
 Rosalind, kindly permitted poor Brano to com- 
 panion his mistress : this was a great comfort to 
 the solitary girl, for Alice was so moody, that, 
 though she watched her young lady'^s steps, 
 and followed her wherever she went, still she 
 spoke but little, and when she did, from the 
 nature of her conversation, poor Rosalind 
 would as soon she had remained silent ; for 
 she spoke of undertaking a pilgrimage to 
 Lough Durragh, for the purpose, as she said, 
 of " making her soul;" a manufacture Rosa-, 
 lind could not very well understand, but which 
 all the nuns (to whom Alice, within a few hours, 
 had become an object of great interest and 
 amusement,) highly commended. 
 
 Rosalind remained more than an hour in 
 the same position, her hand resting on Brano's 
 head, and her eyes fixed upon the branches of 
 an old poplar that strained its gigantic height 
 to meet the clouds. Alice was kneeling a little 
 behind the tree, telling over her beads with de-
 
 230 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 vout earnestness, and yet scanning the appear- 
 ance of many of the nuns, who walked up and 
 down a long broad walk, edged with simple 
 but beautiful flowers, which they took much 
 delight in cultivating : the garden was par- 
 tially enclosed by the old walls of the abbey, 
 and the river formed the boundary of one en- 
 tire side; thus it was rendered both picturesque 
 and agreeable ; and the *' veiled ladies" read- 
 ing, working, or praying, while they enliven- 
 ed, were in admirable keeping with the scene. 
 Though it was beautiful as a picture, still it 
 was sad to see that young and innocent crea- 
 ture deserted by all, and left to her own medi- 
 tations, which, to j udge from her tearful eyes, 
 were not of the most joyous description. Seve- 
 ral of the inmates looked on her with kind 
 and friendly countenances, — that sweet unsus- 
 pecting friendliness, which springs spontaneous- 
 ly in a young heart, and is the child of confi- 
 dence and love. Such longed to sit with, and 
 talk to, the young Protestant, without caring 
 for her creed — except, indeed, now and then
 
 THE OUTLAW. 231 
 
 breathing a gentle prayer that one so fair and 
 gentle might yet be of the true faith. Others, 
 grown old, ascetics in their religion, scowled 
 upon her as they passed, and had she noted 
 the expression of their looks, it would have 
 made her very wretched ; as it was, but for 
 her tears, one would have fancied she was 
 counting the leaves of the poplar-tree, or per- 
 chance observing the simple butterflies that 
 danced amid its branches. Her reverie, how- 
 ever, was interrupted by a hand lightly press- 
 ed upon her shoulder, and the voice of Mar- 
 garet sounding words of friendly import in 
 her ear. 
 
 There are times when a kindly greeting will 
 sink deep — deep into the heart ; so was it now 
 with Rosalind. She had just made up her 
 mind to be very miserable — as miserable as 
 possible, and had arrived exactly at the belief 
 that she was never to be happy any more in 
 this happy world, when a kind word upset her 
 prison-building, and sent smiles instead of tears 
 dancing over her dimpled cheeks.
 
 2S2 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " But why did you speak to me, sister 
 Margaret ? Surely you know the lady's 
 command."' 
 
 *' I have begged hard to be exempt from the 
 order, and my petition has been granted. I 
 have a good reputation for sanctity, and I dare 
 say the superior is not without some hopes that 
 I may be the instrument of your conversion. 
 There, now, sister Rosalind, you need not be in 
 a hurry to deny, as you were just going to do. 
 the possibility of such an event ; let her think 
 so, and I promise you that I will never try to 
 convert you into anything but what }'ou are, 
 and that is " 
 
 She paused, and, before she spoke again, 
 Rosalind said, 
 
 " What am I then ?'' 
 
 " I can only read your looks ; the book is 
 very beautiful." 
 
 " For shame !" said Rosalind, blushing 
 deeply. " You must not flatter." 
 
 *' And you must not blush as if I were a 
 lover, instead of a lady."
 
 THE OUTLAW. 2S3 
 
 " A lover ! for shame, sister !" repeated 
 Rosalind. 
 
 " For shame, indeed ! is it because we dwell 
 in convents that we are to have no lovers ? Do 
 you know, I heard sister Frances — there — 
 there is sister Frances — that tall, flat, bony- 
 looking lady, (who seems the corner-stone of old- 
 maidenism) hint to sister Bridget — the fat, 
 jolly, little person, who seems like a monk in 
 petticoats, that the Outlaw, who caused so 
 much disturbance here yesterday, was a lover 
 of the lady''s herself, when she was young." 
 
 " Indeed ? Well, he was a noble, fine per- 
 son, quite as handsome as my uncle, and did 
 not look at all like an outlaw." 
 
 *^ The ladies are all horror-struck at such a 
 violation of the altar, and Father Edmund has 
 been purifying the chapel all day. But do you 
 know, none of us can make out how it was that 
 the Outlaw escaped ; for Beaulieu was beset 
 by soldiers, even the opposite side of the water 
 was encompassed : some say one thing, some 
 another, but most think he swam in some de-
 
 234 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 gree under water, and so got off. The abbess 
 has written to the Queen, and they say there 
 will be a great piece of work about it." 
 
 '' The lady acted very nobly, I thought," 
 said Rosalind. 
 
 " Some think she overstrained the mark ; if 
 he had been a Catholic, good ; but one of ano- 
 ther faith, it is said, had no just claim on the 
 sanctuary." 
 
 " I cannot understand such matters," replied 
 Rosalind ; " only as it was intended for the un- 
 fortunate, 1 see no reason why it should not 
 be so applied. I have read that Beaulieu 
 Abbey yielded sanctuary to the great Margaret 
 of Anjou, the Queen of Henry the Sixth, and 
 that the mysterious Perkin Warbeck also 
 found safety within its walls." 
 
 " You are skilled in history, I perceive," 
 said Margaret, inquiringly. 
 
 "But indifferently," answered Rosalind, again 
 blushing. 
 
 " I must learn of you," continued Margaret ; 
 " my education has been sadly neglected till
 
 THE OUTLAW. 2S5 
 
 very lately? and, indeed, I am nearly self-taught. 
 Are you fond of music ?" 
 
 " Passionately. I love the ballads of my 
 native land more than any other, and my nurse 
 taught me to sing them almost in my cradle.^'' 
 
 " We will sing them together, and teach each 
 other, in the times of relaxation ; and perhaps 
 you will read with me ; like most of the ladies 
 of my country, I am better skilled in French 
 than in English history." 
 
 " I had great advantages at my uncle's, and 
 ought better to have profited by them ; for all 
 the celebrated persons of the present century, at 
 one time or other, have visited Sydney Plea- 
 sance."" 
 
 " Indeed ! And do you like such company ?'" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I love to sit and listen, particu- 
 larly when Mr. Evelyn and my uncle discourse 
 on the beauties of Nature, and draw such 
 happy conclusions from the bounty and wisdom 
 of God : but there is one person whom I love 
 better than any, though she does not come to 
 Sydney Pleasance ; yet my uncle carried me to
 
 ^S6 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 her house, and there I spent such a happy 
 month !" 
 
 " Who, may I ask ?'^ 
 
 " The Lady Rachel Russell." 
 
 " Is she not a great fanatic ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, not that ! she is a pure high-souled 
 woman. I almost wish "" 
 
 " What? Nay, do not pause, but tell your 
 wish, and boldly. What, blushing again ! We 
 shall have the roses stealing all your bloom 
 away, from sheer envy. Come, sister Rosalind, 
 your wish — your wish." 
 
 " Well, then, I should like to be placed in a 
 situation where great firmness and great for- 
 bearance were necessary to extricate some one I 
 dearly loved out of trouble, and then I should 
 like to try to act — like Lady Rachel Russell. 
 You see I am very ambitious. She makes one 
 so proud of being born an Englishwoman, that 
 I could almost exchange countries to enjoy the 
 privilege." 
 
 " Well, our ambitions differ," said Margaret, 
 drawing up her figure to its full height. " I
 
 THE OUTLAW. 237 
 
 should like to have been born a queen ; to have 
 thousands to yield me homage ; to dwell in a 
 palace — to be the dispenser of life and death. 
 Oh, how many would I punish ; how many 
 compel to bite the earth they now so proudly 
 tread upon V^ 
 
 " No doubt, no doubt ! — I do not doubt ye," 
 chimed in the full deep voice of Alice Murrough, 
 who still remained, half kneeling, half sitting, 
 behind the tree, telling over her beads, but 
 keeping no less anxious count of everything 
 that passed. " No doubt, no doubt ! — I do not 
 doubt ye," she repeated ; and then murmured in 
 a lower tone, " the bad blood begets the cank- 
 ered sore — no doubt, no doubt !" 
 
 Margaret turned the flashing light of her 
 proud eye upon Alice, who heeded it no more 
 than if the young lady had not been by ; but 
 worked on at an ave, which had been inter- 
 rupted by her soliloquy. 
 
 ''Woman! what say ye?" inquired Mar- 
 garet, Rosalind thought almost fiercely. 
 
 " My prayers. Miss — do you ever say 
 yours ?"
 
 228 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " You are all sweetness, Rosalind," said 
 Margaret, after a pause, during which she bent 
 her brow as she gazed on the apparently un- 
 conscious nurse ; " but, verily, your attendants 
 are in no degree gentle ; that woman seems as 
 though she could devour me, and as for the 
 hound, he gathered his lips off his teeth when I 
 approached, and has not replaced them since." 
 
 " Indeed ! Alice does ever as she likes, but 
 Brano must be taught better manners." She 
 took Margaret's hand within her own, and put 
 it towards the dog; the sagacious creature 
 looked wistfully into his lady's face, and 
 crouched at her feet; yet, firm in his antipathy, 
 he refused to recognise Miss Raymond as a 
 friend. 
 
 " Let us walk," exclaimed Margaret, with 
 her accustomed impatience of manner; " I hate 
 sitting still ; there is nothing like exertion for 
 mind and body." 
 
 " I love walking too," replied her gentle 
 companion ; " but I love it best in the free 
 fields ; many are the happy hours I have spent
 
 THE OUTLAW. 239 
 
 with my dear uncle, early and late, wandering 
 over hill and mossy dell." 
 
 " You are quite a young lady of romance," 
 replied Margaret, somewhat sneeringly. " I 
 suppose you are too wise to think of dress or 
 ornaments of any kind." 
 
 " That I am not," said the sweet-tempered 
 girl, laughing; " I assure you it is no small 
 mortification to me to be obliged to don this 
 dress, and braid back my hair ; but I have a 
 great impatience to learn that beautiful art of 
 embroidery, which sister Agnes teaches with so 
 much skill. I should like to embroider Lady 
 Sydney a hassock." 
 
 " Do you then love her so well as to devote 
 to her so much time ?''"' 
 
 " I love my uncle dearly, and she is his 
 wife," said the frank Rosalind. 
 
 " I wish I could find an Orlando for you, 
 fair maid, to take the place of this said uncle ; 
 but I suppose you never read plays, so do not 
 ken my meaning." 
 
 " Indeed my uncle's dearest delight, when
 
 S40 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 he was angling (which is one of his favourite 
 sports — and it is so pretty to see the tenderness 
 with which he unhooks the small fish, and 
 sends them floating away in freedom) was to 
 have me sit by him, and read his favourite 
 passages from the very play you speak of. 
 The Forest of Ardennes is almost as familiar to 
 me as the New Forest ; and when uncle mo- 
 ralizes too long, I call him the melancholy 
 Jaques." 
 
 " How my heart pants to leave this forest ! 
 yet I would be content to remain here for a 
 long, long time, if I should be great hereafter/' 
 
 " Bo you mean great in another world ?"''' 
 inquired Rosalind. 
 
 jNIargaret's laugh rang among the echoes of 
 the trees. *' No ! what is that to me ? I wish 
 for greatness here — I ivill be great."" 
 
 " I hope to be good,"** responded Rosalind 
 gently, as she gathered a carnation. " I should 
 like to be as good as Lady Rachel Russell.*" 
 
 Poor Rosalind, luckily for her self-esteem, 
 did not see the look of contempt which Mar-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 241 
 
 garet bestowed upon her. Had volumes been 
 written to illustrate the character of each, it 
 could not have been more truly developed 
 than by the simple and single statement which 
 they themselves had made: one desired to be 
 great, and cared little how she achieved that 
 greatness ; the other to be good, and to im- 
 molate any feeling that would militate against 
 it. The two girls had frequently passed, as 
 they walked up and down the sheltered river 
 path, a mouldering turret, which, from its pe- 
 culiar and elevated situation, must once have 
 commanded a very extensive view over the 
 adjacent country. The steps which led to it 
 had crumbled away ; and whoever wished to 
 climb so high, must of necessity creep up 
 the wall, and secure a footing on projecting 
 stones and portions of creeping plants. This 
 might be considered a service of danger, as the 
 wall was close to Beaulieu river, and the turret 
 projected over its stream. 
 
 " What a picturesque ruin !" said Rosalind. 
 
 '* Shall we go to the top .?" inquired Mar- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 garet. *' It commands a glorious view ; we 
 can see the Abbey-gate, which is at the next 
 angle ; indeed the gate is not ten yards from 
 the river."" 
 
 Rosalind had never been censured for gazing 
 on a beautiful prospect ; nor was she aware 
 that looking beyond the walls was forbidden 
 by the abbess : had she known so much, she 
 would not have so acted, under any temptation 
 however great ; but Margaret, who loathed 
 restraint, had no such notions. Both accord- 
 ingly commenced the ascent, and after much 
 climbing and much laughing succeeded in their 
 object. Deep was Rosalind"*s delight at the 
 magnificence outspread before her. Brano 
 followed her to the foot of the steep ; but as 
 the poor fellow feared to proceed farther, he laid 
 himself down at the first stone, and turned his 
 head upwards, that so he might not lose sight 
 of his mistress. 
 
 " Now,'' said Margaret, " if the times of 
 chivalry were not passed, we might fancy our- 
 selves two distressed damsels, and hope that
 
 THE OUTLAW. ^43 
 
 some cavaliers would come to our rescue — 
 storm the castle — and carry us away to their 
 halls and palaces, where we should at once 
 be high ladies and preside over tilts and 
 tournaments ; and, mayhap, captivate some 
 mighty monarch, and have our praises sung 
 like the princesses of old — would not that be 
 glorious ?" 
 
 " I would rather," repHed the more humble- 
 minded, " be led to the altar by my dear uncle, 
 and there given to some worthy man." — Marga- 
 ret laughed. — " Well, by worthy, I mean some 
 brave defender of his country, who loved me, 
 and me only, and would take me to some quiet 
 demesne, where I might bestow my care and 
 charity upon his servants and retainers ; feed 
 the hungry, clothe the naked, and receive the 
 sweet voluntary tribute of blessings in return." 
 
 " Utopian !" laughed Margaret. " Well, you 
 are the wisest, for your dream may be realized ; 
 mine cannot. I hope none of the elder nuns 
 will see us here, for you must know, gentle 
 Rosalind, this is a place proscribed ; the dear 
 
 m2
 
 244 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 abbess would be sadly alarmed to see us here, 
 lest we should break our necks."' 
 
 " Let us go down then," said Rosalind ; 
 " why are we here if it be wrong ?" 
 
 Margaret heeded not her expostulation, for 
 her attention was directed to a troop of horse- 
 men that issued from the wood, and rode along 
 the path leading to the abbey : this group con- 
 sisted of only four persons, two gentlemen and 
 their attendants ; and very gay and gallant they 
 looked, well mounted, well caparisoned, and 
 soldierly. 
 
 " See, Rosalind," exclaimed Margaret, wav- 
 ing her kerchief at the same time in a very 
 un-nunlike fashion to the gentlemen, and with 
 the other hand seizing Rosalinda's arm : " Look ! 
 yonder is my brother ! how very strange ! There, 
 they raise their caps : what a handsome and 
 a brave youth accompanies him ! who is he ? 
 Is that Captain Basil Sydney, your cousin? 
 It must be him. Oh, how delighted I shall be 
 to see Cuthbert ! How well — how handsome 
 he looks ! — Does he not, Rosalind ?""
 
 THE OUTLAW. 245 
 
 But at once poor Rosalind's sense of the 
 impropriety of her situation came fully upon 
 her ; she knew why she had been sent to St. 
 Mary's, yet there she stood, exposed to the ob- 
 servation of the very person for whose security 
 she had been exiled. She could not brook the 
 ardent gaze of admiration with which both the 
 young men regarded her as they approached 
 the gate : they bowed, and waved their caps, 
 and kissed their hands ; and Margaret, to 
 Rosalind's increased distress, returned their 
 salutations. 
 
 "This is not what we should do; indeed, 
 indeed, I must go down," said Rosalind, at 
 length disengaging her arm from Margaret's 
 grasp. " I would not have come here at all 
 if I thought it had been forbidden — let us 
 go down." 
 
 She placed her slender foot on a project- 
 ing stone, and then upon another ; but was so 
 completely unnerved by what had occurred, 
 that she never once thought of the care that was 
 necessary to secure her descent. Margaret saw
 
 M6 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 her danger, and screamed ; the scream only 
 served to increase Rosalind's agitation. In- 
 stead of descending as she had ascended, she 
 hung over the river, and in her anxiety to 
 regain the convent garden missed her footing, 
 and would have been instantly precipitated 
 into the stream, which was eddying at the 
 foot of the turret, had she not caught at a 
 gigantic clump of wallflowers that grew out of 
 a cleft of the building. There she hung, clasp- 
 ing the fragrant flowers with both her hands ; 
 and her hair, which had burst from the en- 
 closure of her convent cap, floating like a 
 sunny veil on the breeze. Brano was not 
 inactive, but sprung into the stream, as if he 
 knew that her frail support could not last 
 long ; and the cavaliers, attracted by Marga- 
 ret's continued screams, galloped from the gate, 
 whose ponderous bell was loudly clanking under 
 the practised hand of Jemmings, anxious to 
 make a due impression of his master's conse- 
 quence. On arriving beneath the turret they 
 saw poor Rosalind's peril, but too late to
 
 THE OUTLAW. 247 
 
 prevent the catastrophe, for her perfumed hope 
 gave way, and she was precipitated into the 
 bubbling waters. Brano was not idle, nor did 
 his courage forsake him ; but his teeth were 
 grown old, and his energies almost exhausted. 
 He seized the drapery, which rose above the 
 stream ; but the eddy had caught Rosalind 
 within its whirl, and drew them both within 
 its vortex. Cuthbert Raymond waited not to 
 dismount, but plunged with his horse from off 
 the bank ; while Basil, more cool, and conse- 
 quently more useful, ran along the edge, and 
 watching the current, sprang in at the very 
 point where he knew Rosalind must come to 
 the surface. The result proved that he was 
 right ; for in a few moments he bore the drip- 
 ping beauty to the green bank of the con- 
 vent garden, where only he could land with 
 ease, for elsewhere it was steep and dan- 
 gerous. 
 
 Cuthbert too swam his horse round the 
 turret; and if the consternation amongst the 
 nuns was great when the Outlaw claimed sane-
 
 248 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 tuary within the convent walls, what was it 
 when two gallant soldiers were at positive and 
 absolute liberty in their gardens ! 
 
 Basil little heeded the commotion, but con- 
 tinued chafing the maiden's temples, and clasp- 
 ing her cold hands, while Margaret ran to 
 summon Father Edmund and his lancet. But 
 if the agitation amongst the nuns of St. Mary's 
 was manifest, what were the feelings, or who 
 can describe the distress, amounting to posi- 
 tive agony, of poor Alice, who had hardly 
 lost sight of her young lady since she entered 
 the convent until about ten minutes before 
 the accident occurred. When she saw her 
 lying on the green sward, pale and senseless, 
 she raised the howl, so dolefully expressive of 
 Irish sorrow, that all unaccustomed to the 
 sound thought she must have been possessed 
 by an evil spirit ; but Major Raymond's asto- 
 nishment was excited in no small degree when 
 Alice, perceiving him, uttered a shriek still 
 louder, and, rushing from her young lady, fell 
 upon her knees at his feet and embraced him.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 249 
 
 while uttering incoherent but expressive words 
 of attachment to the " dear ould stock"' — 
 " the tree that flourished'" — " the pride of the 
 forest"*' — and a host of other expressions of 
 fealty and devotedness to ''him and his." She 
 prayed earnestly for his prosperity and suc- 
 cess in all his undertakings ; and spoke so 
 eloquently of his country and family, that in- 
 voluntarily tears rushed to his eyes, and he 
 was about questioning her as to her connexion 
 with or knowledge of his family, when Mar- 
 garet came up to his side, and said, " And 
 me too, Alice — will you not bless me ?" 
 
 " Bless you !" repeated Alice, rising, and 
 looking at her with an undefinable expression : 
 " I have blessed the house of Raymond, but 
 I have nought to do with you." And so say- 
 ing, she returned to Rosalind, who by that 
 time was much recovered. 
 
 The extraordinary commotion this event 
 created, — how the nuns acted, what they did, 
 what they said, — how poor Brano licked the 
 hand of his fair mistress, — and how, accord- 
 
 M 5
 
 250 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 ing to the most approved practice both in 
 romantic and in real life, Basil Sydney and 
 Cuthbert Raymond were both smitten with 
 the beauty, the gentleness, and (for in those 
 days the quality was duly esteemed) the 
 bashfulness of the fair Rosalind — we leave 
 for a time to the imagination of our rea- 
 ders ; merely stating one of those singular 
 truths which lead to a belief in fatality, that 
 at the very time when Basil was rescuing 
 Rosalind from her watery peril, there was a 
 certain Father Frank in the superior's own 
 sitting-chamber, impressing upon her mind the 
 strong necessity for preventing the aforesaid 
 Basil from meeting the aforesaid Rosalind ; 
 and the abbess had perfectly agreed with him 
 in all he said, and had assured the good padre, 
 whose bones wofully ached from the effects of 
 his steed's activity, that they should not meet. 
 Alack, and alack-a-day ! at the instant she 
 made the promise, at that precise moment, 
 Rosalind had just withdrawn her head from 
 Basil's shoulder ; the soft blush of returning
 
 THE OUTLAW. 251 
 
 animation had suffused her cheeks ; her heart 
 was fast filling with gratitude, and his with 
 love. 
 
 Again we repeat, alack, and alack-a-day ! for 
 the promise of the poor lady abbess ! 
 
 Upon what a slight thread hangs the most 
 important events of life ; how often is the 
 smallest circumstance the key-stone of hap- 
 piness or misery !
 
 252 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Ah me I for, aught that ever I could read, 
 
 Could ever learn by tale or history. 
 
 The course of true love never did run smooth; 
 
 But either it was different in blood, 
 
 Or else misgrafted in respect of years ; 
 
 Or else it stood upon the choice of friends. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 '' It is very provoking," said Father Frank. 
 
 " It is beyond belief/' said the lady ab- 
 bess. 
 
 " So it is," responded Father Edmund. 
 
 " Who could have imagined such an event?" 
 continued the abbess. 
 
 " Nobody !" said Father Frank. 
 
 " Nobody !" said Father Edmund. 
 
 " What's to be done .?" inquired Father 
 Frank.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 253 
 
 " We must consider," said the lady. 
 
 " So we must," chimed in Father Edmund. 
 
 " I would rather take charge of a hundred 
 Spanish girls, than ten English ones," exclaim- 
 ed the superior, after a pause : " not but that 
 I best love those of my own country ; but the 
 donnas abroad are so well tutored, there is so 
 little trouble with them ; they do so exactly as 
 they are desired; never dream of thinking for 
 themselves, and care little whether, on leav- 
 ing their homes, they go to enter a husband's 
 house, or a convent." 
 
 A sort of under-smile passed along th« 
 features of Father Frank, as he exclaimed 
 " Hem !" It was an expressive " hem ;" so 
 expressive, that the lady abbess did not like 
 it, and frowned ; and Father Frank, like a 
 wise man, as he could not answer in the same 
 fashion, pretended not to observe it — a saga- 
 cious mode of overcoming a difficulty, which 
 we recommend to all similarly circumstanced. 
 
 " But," said Father Edmund, opening his 
 large beamless eyes, " I do not see what there
 
 254 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 is to be particularly annoyed about ; our vene- 
 rable and respected mother could not foresee 
 that those wild creatures would scale the walls, 
 and that one of them would tumble into the 
 river ; nor could she tell that Captain Basil 
 Sydney would draw her out.''' 
 
 The abbess looked perplexed. There was 
 much goodness about Father Edmund, but 
 there was also a most intolerable share of that 
 sort of provoking simplicity, which is ever 
 accounting in its own senseless way for that 
 which may not be accounted for. He was a 
 mild, placid man, totally devoid of mental 
 energy, yet well suited for his avocations at 
 St. Mary's, which were merely to hear con- 
 fessions and say mass ; he had no ambition, 
 and was an example in opposition to the idea 
 so generally entertained of the Catholic priest- 
 hood of those days. He had neither the love 
 of, nor the talent for, intrigue of any kind, and 
 was satisfied to place the most implicit and 
 uninquiring faith in all the doctrines of his 
 church. Miracles, rational or irrational, were
 
 THE OUTLAW. 255 
 
 the same to dear, kind, simple Father Edmund, 
 whom everybody loved. 
 
 Lady Mary Powis, the " Mother'' of St. 
 Mary's, had a much greater share of under- 
 standing, and would have been better pleased 
 had the confessor possessed a larger and more 
 energetic mind ; yet she had the good sense to 
 perceive that, had he been more intellectual, he 
 would have been more aspiring, and she was 
 one who could ill have brooked contradiction 
 where she sought obedience ; she therefore re- 
 ceived his observation with coldness, and re- 
 plied, 
 
 " Of course Lady Sydney will not blame me 
 in the matter." 
 
 " Exactly what I mean," observed Father 
 Edmund, ever ready, like all weak people, to 
 echo the sagacity he lacked. 
 
 " Father Frank," she continued, " what I 
 dread are the consequences." 
 
 " But the young lady is not hurt, nor has 
 she eloped — but is confined to her chamber, 
 most properly, to reflect — and the gentles are
 
 256 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 either gone, or going ; so what consequences 
 can arise ?" 
 
 " Father," inquired the abbess, calmly, — 
 " Father Edmund, do you remember when 
 you were young ?" 
 
 '' I was young once, I know, holy mother ; 
 but indeed I do not remember much about 
 it." 
 
 " Nor about anything else," muttered Fa- 
 ther Frank, aside. 
 
 , " I suppose, even before you were called to 
 your vocation, you might have known what it 
 was to regard one person more than another ; 
 and you must have seen innumerable instances 
 where an affection grows in our poor polluted 
 bosoms out of a much slighter incident than 
 that which occurred this morning. Pray the 
 Virgin that nothing may come of it, to cre- 
 ate anxiety to our noble friend the Lady 
 Sydney !" 
 
 " I certainly was very much attached to my 
 — mother," replied the gentle Father Edmund; 
 " but I will myself to-morrow admonish the
 
 THE OUTLAW. 257 
 
 young sister, and also mete out reproof to the 
 dark Irish maiden, who, to say the truth, is 
 forward and confident ; — but a penance or two 
 will set her right, — and she is learned in all 
 things." 
 
 " One thing, holy mother, I must say, on be- 
 half of Mistress Rosalind," said Father Frank : 
 " I do not, cannot believe, that what Mistress 
 Raymond said, when you questioned her as to 
 the mounting up of that turret, was true ; she 
 declared that sne told Sister Rosalind you had 
 commanded that none of the pupils or novices 
 should climb that wall, and that Rosalind would 
 go and she was induced to follow, to persuade 
 her down. Poor Rosalind was too much agitated 
 for me to question her ; but I could stake my 
 best rosary that she never in her life committed 
 an act of wilful disobedience — she is too right- 
 minded to do so." 
 
 " But heretics," said Father Edmund, — 
 " though they hold faith with each other, care 
 little about breaking it with us." 
 
 " Nay," said the abbess, " catholic or he-
 
 258 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 retic, I have ever found young, ay, and 
 old maidens too, prone to peep over battle- 
 ments and out of windows whenever they had 
 opportunity." 
 
 " I have known that child,'" persisted Fa- 
 ther Frank, *' ever since she was as high as my 
 knee, and I never knew her to be guilty of a 
 wrong act." 
 
 " She might not consider herself bound to 
 obey me," said the abbess ; " she has, with all 
 her gentleness, a bold original spirit; and I 
 very much doubt if, for all Lady Sydney''s 
 desire, she will ever take the veil, or even be 
 brought, except perhaps, by means which I do 
 not like to think upon, to a knowledge of the 
 true faith." 
 
 " Under favour," retorted Father Frank, " I 
 would say to you, holy lady, that though on 
 points of faith Mistress Rosalind, in her blind- 
 ness, might think herself right in withstanding 
 your commands, yet she has that discretion 
 which would prevent her ever dreaming of dis- 
 obedience upon minor points ; and I feel con-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 259 
 
 vinced that yon proud-eyed lady did not speak 
 the truth as it really was." 
 
 At this point of the discourse one of the lay 
 sisters came to bid the prioress to the recep- 
 tion-room, where, she said, the two officers wait- 
 ed to speak touching the disappearance of the 
 Outlaw, which, now that they had been plenti- 
 fully refreshed, they wished to treat of. 
 
 It was well that the priests looked not upon 
 the countenance of the abbess when the word 
 Outlaw was uttered ; for, had they done so, they 
 must have noted a flush upon her usually pallid 
 cheek, which would have confirmed the report, 
 that Lady Mary Powis in her youth had known 
 and loved one not of her own creed. 
 
 After a protracted discussion on the probable 
 result of the Outlaw's escape, which the abbess 
 declared she had hardly conceived possible, and 
 after many and conflicting opinions as to how 
 the matter might be considered by his Majesty, 
 the two young men took their departure from 
 the abbey, each testifying his intention of again 
 paying his respects at Beaulieu when the King's
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 opinion was known, and not forgetting to reite- 
 rate their requests, in the most earnest manner, 
 that every attention might be paid to Rosalind, 
 who seemed to occupy a much greater portion 
 of their thoughts than Margaret Raymond. 
 Father Frank declared his intention of remain- 
 ing where he was for the night. 
 
 The friends, with their attendants, had 
 reached Heathy Ditton, when the storm, which 
 Sir Everard was at the same moment encounter- 
 ing on his way to convey food to the Outlaw, 
 compelled them to seek shelter in a hostelrie, 
 very different from the excellent, and, to use a 
 right English word, the comfortable inns which 
 are now to be met with in the New Forest. 
 The cavaliers had preserved that species of 
 silence towards each other which results from 
 the consciousness that both are thinking of the 
 same object ; but when warmed and cheered by 
 a peat fire, which blazed gaily on the hearth of 
 the only spare room, — that is, the best one of 
 three, of which the house consisted, — and when 
 somewhat excited by a hot potation manufac-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 261 
 
 tured by the skilful hands of Jemmings, their 
 mistrust decreased, and the warm Irishman was 
 the first to commence a conversation ; open- 
 ing the attack, however, by sap, and not by 
 storm. 
 
 " Well, Sydney, what did you think of my 
 sister?" 
 
 "She's a fine animated creature; we will 
 drink this bumper to her health, if you please. 
 Triumph to the brave and beautiful Margaret 
 Raymond !" 
 
 " With all my heart, and thank you ! but, 
 seriously, don't you think there is too much fire, 
 too much of the devil about her?" 
 
 " I was just thinking how perfectly gentle 
 and heavenly she was ; so dove-like ! No won- 
 der my father should be so much attached to 
 her." 
 
 " Attached — to whom ?" 
 
 " Why, to Rosalind ; were you not speaking 
 of Miss — Miss Sydney .?" 
 
 " No, I was not speaking of Miss Sydney, 
 Basil ; but we will speak of her, if you please :
 
 262 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 it is well to exchange earth for heaven, some- 
 times.'" 
 
 " So it is. But Cuthbert, remember, / saved 
 her." 
 
 " You were always a lucky dog. What a 
 pretty name she has — Rosalind ! I am not book- 
 learned, but was there not some playwright 
 who made verses on that name ?" 
 
 " Yes, there was — one Will Shakspeare. 
 
 " From the East to Western Ind, 
 No jewel is like Rosalind ; 
 Her worth being mounted on the wind, 
 Through all the world bears Rosalind ; 
 All the pictures, fairest lin'd. 
 Are but black to Rosalind : 
 • Let no face be kept in mind, 
 
 But the face of Rosalind." 
 
 " Ho ! Call you that poetry, sweet Basil ? 
 it brings to my mind the story of the play. 
 My dear mother was so fond of it ; and used to 
 say, in the beginning of the late king's reign, 
 what a shame it was to perform the pieces of 
 Buckingham, and a host of court fools, merely 
 to please Mistress Nelly, and show her off."
 
 THE OUTLAW. J^63 
 
 " Most true. My father says it was the 
 reaction which caused so much vileness in 
 Charles's merry days." 
 
 " Come, Basil, let us drink to the health of 
 this fair girl,'' exclaimed Cuthbert somewhat 
 suddenly, standing : " by St. Patrick, I never 
 did, nor ever will, drink the health of any 
 woman I respect, while sitting on a chair. 
 Now, here- — her health." 
 
 The toast was drunk in due form ; and, what 
 perhaps is somewhat remarkable, the young 
 men entered upon no course of conversation 
 which even the ladies they spoke of could have 
 blushed to hear, unless, indeed, they blushed 
 at their own praise — a circumstance which 
 deserves note for its rarity, for the youths of 
 those days were, if possible, more addicted to 
 an overflowing grossness of language than they 
 are at present. 
 
 " It was very singular," quoth Basil, " that I 
 should meet my poor cousin, and be the means 
 of saving her; for, despite my lady mother's 
 caution, 1 know that, from fear of some astro-
 
 264 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 logical prophecy being accomplished, she has 
 ever kept us asunder. The fact is, Cuthbert, 
 and I mention it to you in time, there is a 
 blight over that poor girl. She is the natural 
 daughter of my father's only brothej ; he was 
 much attached, I have heard, to a wild, beauti- 
 ful, wandering woman, who followed him every- 
 where — to Ireland amongst other places, and 
 died, I believe, in bringing this creature into 
 the world : she remained with her nurse for 
 some years ; but when my uncle was dying, he 
 told the tale to my father, who promised to pro- 
 tect this child — and so here she is. My uncle 
 was a stout liberal, one of the worshippers of 
 Cromwell, and Milton, and Hampden, and all 
 that set ; but I have heard he never forgave 
 Cromwell for being chief magistrate : he was 
 outlawed by Charles; and my father, when 
 he does think of politics (which is about once 
 in every six months) is not as zealous, perhaps, 
 as if my poor uncle had been left alone in his 
 imaginary glory.*" 
 
 " Basil," said Cuthbert, in reply to this
 
 THE OUTLAW. 2G5 
 
 grand speech, "it is exceedingly kind of you 
 to put me on my guard ' in time,' as you 
 very generously state ; which is a hint, I take 
 it, that I should not fall in love with your 
 pretty cousin, as you mean to do that your- 
 self." 
 
 Basil Sydney covered his face with his 
 hands, and, after a pause, replied to his 
 friend's observation with his ordinary plain 
 and honest frankness. 
 
 " I believe, Cuthbert, you may be right, 
 though the Jlnesse (for I must employ a French 
 word for a French trick) was unintentional ; * 
 nevertheless, that may have been the fact, and 
 the fault must be atoned for. I have thought 
 more of Rosalind than I ever thought of any 
 other woman. I never saw any other whom 
 I would make my wife ; and yet, it must not 
 be : I will never marry one who would bring 
 disgrace upon the name of Sydney. Besides,'' 
 and his voice fell to a low murmur, " although 
 I am not greatly given to superstition, I can- 
 not forget the ancient prophecy that for cen- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 turies has hung over my family. My father 
 even repeats it with a shudder, and to my 
 mother it is as an oracle of fate — 
 
 ' When the pure blood mingles with the base, 
 Woe to the old and honoured race ! 
 Let the high-born Sydney plot and plan, 
 Sydney's blood will be Sydney's ban.' 
 
 " No ; my ill-fated cousin can never be to me 
 aught but a dear friend." 
 
 " You are right — and yet she is very lovely 
 and innocent ; so guileless, so purely beautiful, 
 so fresh, so untainted." 
 
 " Ciithbert — under the circumstances I have 
 mentioned, would you marry her ?" 
 
 " Ah, Basil, I am in no situation to marry ; 
 though frankly, and upon the cross," and he 
 kissed his sword-handle as he spoke, " if it 
 were not for that bit of a bar — that small 
 blot — I would not answer for myself. Did 
 you ever hear of an Irishman who could an- 
 swer for himself when a pretty woman was in 
 the'case .?" 
 
 " Major Raymond," said Basil, firmly but
 
 THE OUTLAW. 267 
 
 calmly, " though I dare not think of Rosa- 
 lind Sydney as my wife, yet she is still my 
 cousin, and, as such, I shall not only respect 
 her myself, but expect you to do the same. 
 She is a poor orphan, a friendless girl, per- 
 fectly friendless but for my father ; and, were 
 he gone, I should feel myself bound to act a 
 father's part by her. You understand what I 
 mean perfectly ?" 
 
 The fine features of Cuthbert Raymond were 
 at first agitated by a painful expression, which 
 soon gave wj^y to one of mirthful meaning. 
 
 " Don't look serious about it, my dear 
 fellow ; don't look serious : gay, and careless, 
 and bad enough I am, I dare say, yet not 
 so bad, not so unprincipled as you seem in- 
 clined to believe ; but, by holy Paul ! I can 
 hardly help laughing at your taking the 
 guardian upon yourself so suddenly and so 
 unadvisedly ; acting the father in prospective 
 to a young and beautiful girl." 
 
 " Cuthbert, I trust " interrupted Basil. 
 
 " You trust ! — Blessed Mary ! but / would'nt 
 
 n2
 
 ^68 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 trust you, my noble fellow ! And now hear 
 me, Basil; hear me seriously; and then we will 
 troul a ditty, and to-bed. If God spares me 
 to exchange a green head and brains for a 
 grey pate and a sober lining thereunto, I will 
 win back every acre of land, and refresh every 
 honour we have been despoiled of; but not 
 for me, Basil Sydney, will ever be the pure 
 devoted love of blessed woman ! The free and 
 the careless may be mine ; but before I achieve 
 what I purpose (and great is that purpose) 
 I shall be old and withered, a being nothing 
 that is lovely could love — till then, honour 
 shall be my bride ! So, Basil, pursue what 
 phantaisie you please, it will not be disturbed 
 by Cuthbert Raymond." 
 
 '' Psha ! you undervalue woman," replied 
 his comrade. " I tell you they can love what 
 we would loathe ; they sentimentalize their 
 affections in an extraordinary degree ; their 
 phantaisie serves to create a reality, which it 
 would be fighting with windmills to attempt 
 to destroy. It is not so much youth and
 
 THE OUTLAW. ^69 
 
 manliness they admire, as the attributes which 
 youth and manliness acquire by being steeped 
 in their imagination : they lean upon us for 
 protection, they look up to us for advice ; and 
 it is only when that protection is withdrawn, 
 and that advice denied, that the illusion 
 vanishes, and we appear before them, whether 
 young or old, in all our natural (I had almost 
 said) deformity. Trust me, Cuthbert, age is 
 no obstacle to woman's love. Besides, a wo- 
 man, if noble, helps a man to honour: she 
 warms his affections ; while her forbearance, her 
 gentleness, her truth, stimulate his exertions to- 
 out-do her in the race of moral virtue."" 
 
 " Bravely said for a flutterer in the virtuous 
 court of Charles the Second, and a crowing 
 cock of James's camp ! Why, one would 
 think you studied the female character from 
 
 the saintesses of , where they all look 
 
 blue and smiling, like — like — like curds and 
 whey ! What a devil of a simile ! Well, I 
 never try for a simile that pistols, and bullets, 
 and flags, and pennons, and saberdashes, bat-
 
 270 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 ties and ambuscades, do not come, instead of 
 the pretty ones which you have at your fingers"' 
 ends about dears and tears, and smiles • and 
 eyes, and loves and doves, and all the small 
 arms, the flying artillery of love-making. 
 Ah, Basil, Basil ! I see how it will all end. 
 You will be a sober, happy, comfortable mar- 
 ried man, with a soft, fat, fair, comely wife, 
 ten sweet pledges of affection at the very least, 
 perchance the eldest called William^ or Mary, 
 or whatever name will be most in the fashion 
 of the times ; and you will be what an Eng- 
 lishman calls — happy: which signifies, that you 
 will have plenty to eat, and wherewith to buy 
 my lady a new sac of the gayest fashion, and 
 yourself the very smartest perriwig w^orn since 
 the hey-day of old Pepys ; mayhap you may 
 smoke a pipe while dandling a pair of trea- 
 sures upon each knee ! While I — deliver us ! 
 may — ^" he paused, and the cheerful expres- 
 sion of his face faded as the shadow came 
 over his brow : " I shall be dust and ashes 
 before even that." He ran his fingers lightly
 
 THE OUTLAW. 271 
 
 through his hair — " Well, this will never be 
 grey : — and now, Basil, there is one thing, to 
 be serious again, that lies heavy at my heart — 
 my sister." Again he paused, filled his cup 
 with the sparkling spirit, and drank it at a 
 draught. " My poor sister ! I wish, Basil, I 
 had a fitting portion to bestow on Peg; and 
 then — why, if you could have loved her, I 
 should have been indeed happy : but I believe 
 that to be impossible ; were she as jewelled as 
 Cleopatra, I think she would not win you 
 now. The Virgin only knows what changes 
 this unhappy country is doomed again to 
 undergo ! another civil war, although I hardly 
 think Mary will be so unnatural as to con- 
 trive against her father ; but it may be, and 
 then all my plans for her will be upset. If 
 she does not marry, I have ever thought a 
 convent will be a respectable and fitting home 
 for this my last tie, my only living relative. 
 But should our blessed King again be sent 
 forth a crownless wanderer, and I should fall — 
 poor, poor Peg ! Wouldst be a brother to her,
 
 272 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Basil, and see her in a safe asylum beyond 
 those seas ?" 
 
 Basil assured him that he would, and added 
 with much delicacy, he would take care that she 
 should want for nothing the world could give. 
 
 A proud flush spread over Cuthbert's cheeks 
 and brow, but it soon faded ; and he thanked 
 his friend with all the warmth of his generous 
 nature. 
 
 " God help us ! this money is a sad elevator 
 and a bitter depressor of all our plans and pro- 
 jects ! For me,*" and he drew forth a tolerably 
 well-filled purse, " this is my only store. There 
 is no petty merchant, whose puddle blood sprang 
 but as yesterday from the veins of that city- 
 sewer called trade, who could not count gold 
 with most good knights' silver. N''imporie ! 
 I have ever my good sword — and it is the sword 
 of a Raymond! Come, Basil — fly, fly away 
 care ! — Our song !" 
 
 " Never mind the song: but I would tell 
 you that you do ill to malign our traders. An 
 English merchant is a **'
 
 THE OUTLAW. 273 
 
 " Humbug !" 
 
 " No, no : that is the way all you Irishmen 
 unite '■* 
 
 '* Pride and poverty !" again interrupted the 
 impetuous Raymond, knocking at the same 
 time the ashes of the peat fire with the point of 
 his sword over the hearth : " pride and pover- 
 ty ! — I know we unite them — and why ? Be- 
 cause we have nothing else to marry them to ; 
 so, you see, they intermarry — Mistress Pride 
 to Master Poverty, and Master Pride to Mis- 
 tress Poverty ; and so it will be to the end of 
 the chapter — the Irish chapter, at all events." 
 
 " But, Cuthbert, touching the English mer- 
 chant '" 
 
 " I don't want to touch him. I hate trade 
 with a true Irish hatred ; it 's so sticky and 
 dirty." 
 
 " My dear Cuthbert, an English merchant 
 all over the world "" 
 
 " Well, I know he is all over the world ; 
 everywhere, where money's to be made : — ay, 
 ay ! Come, the song !" 
 
 n5
 
 274 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Directly. But an English merchant *" 
 
 " Well, my dear fellow, make an angel of 
 him, if you please ; and when I am a cardinal 
 
 I '11 But no, Basil, no ! not even to oblige 
 
 you would I lend him St. Peter's keys : no, 
 no!" 
 
 "As you please: but let me tell you, a 
 British mer " 
 
 " Curse him !" shouted Cuthbert. " I beg 
 your pardon, Basil, but you are very provok- 
 ing. I wanted you to sing, not because my 
 heart was joyous, but because I desired not to 
 think. What good does thinking do a soldier.? 
 But you won't sing, you are so cursedly matter- 
 of-fact. Well, good night ! May your heart 
 never know heaviness !"" 
 
 Basil Sydney was well acquainted with the 
 fits of joy and sorrow to which his friend was 
 liable. Sorrow, indeed, is too light a term for 
 the deep misery into which he was sometimes 
 plunged, without any apparent cause ; and 
 Basil knew the only way was to wile, and not 
 oppose him. Occasionally his English perti-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 275 
 
 nacity got the better of his kind intentions, and 
 he would persist where it would have been wiser 
 to discontinue. Those who are called sensible 
 persons are ever angry when they hear of peo- 
 ple being loved for their faults, and we are 
 willing to admit it a very foolish plan ; but 
 yet Basil loved Cuthbert as much for his 
 reckless bravery, his wild generosity, and his 
 strange ways, as for the qualities that so 
 closely resembled his own ; he therefore, with- 
 out noting the gloomy termination of his 
 friend's speech, looked up smilingly in his face, 
 extended his hand, and struck into one of 
 Cuthbert's favourite songs. The tones of his 
 rich manly voice soothed the young man's 
 moodiness ; and, before he was aware of the 
 change, he was joining heartily in the 
 chorus. 
 
 The fountains drink caves sub terrene. 
 The rivulets drink the fountains dry ; 
 
 Brooks drink those rivulets again, 
 And them some river gliding by ; 
 
 Until some gulph o' the sea drinks them, 
 
 And th' ocean drinks up that again.
 
 276 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Of th' ocean then does drink the sky, 
 
 When, having brew'd it into rain, 
 The earth with drink it does supply, 
 
 And plants do drink up that again ; 
 When turn'd to liquor in the vine, 
 'Tis our turn next to drink the wine. 
 
 By this who does not plainly see. 
 
 How down our throats at once is hurl'd 
 
 (Whilst merrily we drinking be) 
 The quintessence of all the world ? 
 
 Whilst all drink then in land, air, sea, 
 
 Let us too drink as well as they. 
 
 " Well,'' exclaimed Cuthbert, " that was a 
 brave ditty : and now, 1 11 to this pile of horse- 
 cloths for the night." 
 
 " What they call a bed is in that closet," 
 said Basil ; " will you not go there ?'" 
 
 " No ; I hate what they call feather-beds ; 
 have it all to yourself,'* replied his comrade ;"" 
 and, so saying, Cuthbert Raymond threw him- 
 self on his uncurtained couch. 
 
 There was a window in the closet that over- 
 looked the small inn-yard ; a rude enclosure 
 stolen from the forest, and containing a few 
 rough log-sheds, where such as did not choose
 
 THE OUTLAW. 277 
 
 to pay for their beds might sleep scot-free. The 
 wind howled drearily amongst the trees, and 
 sighed over the heaths in mournful cadence ; 
 and the rain pattered so sturdily against the 
 window, that Basil could not sleep. He turned, 
 and sat up, and lay down, but found no repose; 
 heard the loud breathing of his friend, and en- 
 vied him the rest he coveted in vain : tried 
 again, closed his eyes, and thought that Rosa- 
 lind Sydney fastened on his heel the knightly 
 spur, and sent him forth with an injunction to 
 risk life and limb in the cause of William : 
 wondered whether Rosalind admired him or 
 Cuthbert most ; and resolved upon a different 
 style of hat, as more becoming than the one he 
 wore : and then, in this half dreamy, half sleepy 
 mood, his thoughts wandered to past and recent 
 events ; he dreaded the sword which hung over 
 his father's head, and his principal hope was, 
 that the ministers of the King would be too 
 much occupied with foreign and domestic trou- 
 bles to heed the occurrences of the past day in 
 so remote a place. He then again tried to
 
 278 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 compose himself to sleep, but the very effort 
 baffled his intention, and after about two 
 hours' useless endeavours to obtain rest, he 
 wrapped himself in his cloak, and sat at the 
 lattice window, waiting for the first streaks 
 of day. 
 
 The rain had ceased, but the tempest seemed 
 to have gained strength from its cessation, and 
 stormed and howled most fearfully amongst the 
 buildings, clattering the doors, and making the 
 very house-tops reel with its violence. Ever 
 and anon it would displace some tile or beam, 
 which, tumbling at that solitary hour, caused 
 clamour and confusion amongst the quadrupeds 
 and fowls in the out-buildings. Basil thought 
 he perceived a light sparkling through the aper- 
 tures of a barn that leaned against an outer 
 wall, and presently the wail of a young infant 
 smote upon his ear. The sounds that by day 
 are heard and forgotten, at night take powerful 
 hold of the imagination ; and his eye watched 
 with deep interest for another glimmer of the 
 candle, while he eagerly listened for a repetition
 
 THE OUTLAW. 279 
 
 of the cry. He thought he could distinguish the 
 low lullaby with which a mother soothes her 
 fractious infant to repose ; but suddenly that 
 gentle sound was exchanged for one of the wild 
 ditties which are the current poetry of the 
 peasants of England, and a female voice sung, 
 at the highest pitch of a powerful tone, a stanza 
 of the well-known ballad — 
 
 "The gentleman said, Come, marry with raee. 
 As fine a ladye my Bessee shall bee : 
 My life is distressed ': O hear me, quoth he ; 
 And grant me thy love, my pretty Bessee." 
 
 Basil listened attentively for its continuation, 
 but loud harsh words mingled with the night 
 blast, as if the woman had been reproved for 
 her musical propensity ; it seemed to Basil that 
 more than reproof was given, for he heard, or 
 fancied he heard, a scream, as if of pain, and 
 then — all was silent. 
 
 " Master Basil, Master Basil !" said a deep 
 voice at liis elbow. Sydney started ; and after 
 he had ascertained who it was, naturally ex- 
 claimed —
 
 278 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " Why, Jemmings ! what is the matter ? what 
 do you want ?" 
 
 ''Just to ask if you were asleep, Master Ba- 
 sil, and if you heard that voice ?" 
 
 " Well, Jemmings, I am not asleep, and I 
 did hear that voice,"" replied his master, good- 
 naturedly. " Are you ill, Jemmings ?" 
 
 " Not ill in body, but sick at heart, sir,"*' 
 said the poor fellow ; and his trembling voice 
 confirmed the truth of the statement. 
 
 " Sit down, Jemmings, and tell me what all 
 this is about."" 
 
 " Thank your honour ; I '11 strike tent here 
 a bit," he answered, stretching his long half- 
 naked limbs on the floor. " Is your honour 
 sure the major 's asleep ?"" 
 
 *' Quite sure ; and you may be certain too, 
 if you listen."" 
 
 " Ah," said Jemmings, after a pause, " that 
 is true, your honour ; Lord ! 'tis as loud as the 
 reveille trumpet of a frosty morning ! I had 
 foddered the horses, poor creeters ! after their 
 march, and was just leaving yon shed, when I
 
 THE OUTLAW. 281 
 
 heard one of the band of beggars I before 
 noticed to your honour, and who I knew were 
 lodging there for the night, say something 
 which opened my ears, and yet not with a 
 sufficient opening ; so I made feint to leave the 
 place, and when it was quite dark crept back, 
 and I heard them still talking about the Out- 
 law and Sir Everard ; and how that Sergeant 
 Snap'em had boasted that he'd make your ho- 
 nour''s father bite the dust for having sneered 
 at him ; and they talked still more of the dis- 
 content that is over the country on account 
 of the King's strange ways : but of a sudden 
 I heard a low soft laugh, which was not of a 
 certainty excitable by anything that had been 
 said, and I thought I knew the laugh, and I 
 laid down like an animal, and crept on — 
 on — until at length I brought my eye, as 
 if to the touch-hole of Blue Bill — a sort of 
 crack that was in the wall — and there I 
 saw five or six men — such odd ones! eating 
 and carousing; and I heard everything they 
 said, only couldn't understand all, because
 
 282 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 of the strange words — not book-words, which 
 they used, but a lingo of their own ; and 
 still I watched, for I thought none of those 
 could have laughed that soft low laugh ; and 
 presently I saw an object move, and heard the 
 rustling of straw, and I kejjt my eye fixed upon 
 the spot, and perceived something bright and 
 glittering, and at last, on that wretched bed, 
 up sat, — oh, sir, sir I no other than Cicely ! and 
 a baby at her bosom. The unfortunate creeter 
 was decked like a morris-dancer, with a jing- 
 ling bell round her neck, and her long bright 
 hair twisted and twirled about with beads ; and, 
 upon her sitting up, one of the men, whom 
 I remember having seen playing all sorts of 
 mountebankistical tricks at Southampton, went 
 to her, and wanted her to take some food, and 
 she would not, but pointed to the baby, and 
 laughed ; and I could not help thinking there 
 was something wild and scared in that laugh ; 
 and her eyes too wandered : and at last, when 
 the child fell asleep, she commenced twisting 
 her hair and curling it up, and holding out her
 
 THE OUTLAW. 283 
 
 arms (thin and white enough they looked), as if 
 she were admiring the glass beads and coloured 
 ribbons that were bound up and down and 
 done into tassels upon them ; and that was 
 enough for me, for 1 saw at once the creeter's 
 head was not right, which, as I said to myself, 
 was an excuse for her forgetting all her pro- 
 mises. We are only flesh and blood, the best 
 of us ; and it brought tears into my eyes to 
 see the love she bore her unfortunate child, 
 and how she looked at and kissed it. And I "*d 
 give a year's pay she wasn't with them vaga- 
 bonds ; nor can I make out how she got 
 amongst them at all. I heard she was wiled 
 off by one of Colonel Kirke's officers. She never 
 had but one fault. Master Basil, — she was over- 
 fond of dress, and loved a gay kirtle and a far- 
 thingale better than anything else." 
 
 " But,'' said Basil, interested for the first 
 time in the troubles of Jemmings, and yet 
 anxious to gain some information as to the 
 passing reports of the country — " what else 
 did you see, Jemmings i^"
 
 28if THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Jemmings sighed deeply while he replied, 
 " I saw only Cicely, your honour." 
 
 Basil and .lemmings repaired to the barn 
 exactly as the morning dawned, both intent 
 upon procuring information ; but, to their 
 great disappointment, the party had disappear- 
 ed, and left no more trace than the bird who 
 wings his pathless way through the blue sky.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 285 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Augustus. The plot thickens, Claudio. 
 Claudio. Methinks it is full time, 
 For one act of the play is finished. 
 
 Old Drama. 
 
 Some days had elapsed, and matters went on 
 as usual at Sydney Pleasance : the soldiers had 
 taken their departure for another division of 
 the county, information, which appeared indis- 
 putable, having been given that the person 
 they sought had been tracked to the borders of 
 Surrey. Cuthbert Raymond and Basil Syd- 
 ney purposed returning to the camp at Houns- 
 low the next day, that is, they intended setting 
 off on their journey the following morning ; 
 for travelling was then, even for soldiers on 
 horseback, a more eventful matter than it is
 
 2S6 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 at present. Their steeds were good, and their 
 anxiety great to regain head-quarters, although 
 the desire proceeded from a different source 
 in each. 
 
 Upon those whom it nearly concerned, the 
 acd][uaintance so suddenly formed between the 
 cousins was a matter of deep interest, and 
 Lady Sydney resolved to ascertain the nature 
 of Basil's feelings before he left her again, to 
 aid in her beloved cause. She disdained a 
 confidant, she employed ministers, but she had 
 no friends. 
 
 How she loved her son has been explained ; 
 but she loved him, if possible, more when she 
 remembered that on the morrow he would not 
 shelter beneath her roof. On the morrow he 
 would be on his way to aid her King — she 
 hoped, to aid him — but her mind misgave her; 
 he had avoided the subject, next to himself, 
 nearest to her heart ; and she feared had been 
 worked upon by some power stronger than Sir 
 Everard's. He had more than once been seen 
 wandering in the woods of Brokenhurst, when
 
 THE OUTLAW. 287 
 
 bands of friends had assembled to meet the 
 young heir of Sydney Pleasance. She endea- 
 voured to discover the secrets that were en- 
 veloped in the dark womb of time, and the 
 information she received, like all information 
 of the kind, was of a double import ; it said, 
 " that disaster threatened the house of Sydne}'^, 
 
 and yet assured her that Basil :" but we 
 
 will not anticipate, even though our informa- 
 tion should be derived from no better source 
 than an astrologer. 
 
 " I wish I were going with you, my son," 
 she said to him affectionately, " for every 
 movement of the royal army is to me an event 
 of the deepest moment. Oh, Basil ! how 
 earnestly will I pray that you may do your 
 duty, and yet be preserved. The rumour 
 is still ' they come,"* and yet it is hardly pos- 
 sible that Mary would league against her 
 father.'^ 
 
 " Be assured, my dearest mother, I will do 
 my duty, whatever that may be." 
 
 " There is a cloud over your brow," she
 
 288 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 said, somewhat angrily ; " you tamper with 
 your loyalty." 
 
 " No, mother, it is not so ; I do not tamper ; 
 but the feelings of the man mingle with those 
 of the soldier. It is not fair to sever them : 
 but we will talk no more of this. 1 am your 
 son, and a Sydney — is not that sufficient gua- 
 rantee for my honour .? There is one thing 
 I would speak of; I saw palpably, at the 
 window of: this very room, a man whom I 
 have seen before in London, when, in a boyish 
 freak, I went accompanied by other youths to 
 read the stars. I mean neither to question 
 nor extol his skill; but will you tell me if 
 he is known to you beyond his art ?^'^ 
 
 Had a bolt from heaven struck Lady 
 Sydney, she could not have been more con- 
 founded ; she felt ashamed, she knew not ex- 
 actly why ; for until that time belief in the 
 occult sciences was accounted more a matter 
 of faith than superstition : yet her pride was 
 wounded that Basil should suppose she wanted 
 any direction, save the excellence of her own
 
 THE OUTLAW. 289 
 
 judgment ; this she desired that all should 
 consider omnipotent ; and though on ordinary 
 occasions a lover of honesty, she would readily 
 have formed an excuse, or invented a false- 
 hood, had her son once removed his eye from 
 her countenance : but he knew his advantage, 
 and she resolved to tell the truth — "That, 
 hearing of the great fame of the renowned 
 Partridge, she had sent to him the necessary 
 computations, and had invited him to Sydney 
 Pleasance, where, she said, he had recently but 
 secretly been." 
 
 Basil asked why he had come secretly, as 
 Partridge was invited openly to the houses of 
 all the nobility, and was everywhere a wel- 
 come guest. 
 
 Lady Sydney replied that such was his 
 stipulation, and she could not otherwise ac- 
 count for it. She hinted also, that Sir Eve- 
 rard would not have relished the introduction 
 of such a visitor. 
 
 Strange to say, Basil appeared more per- 
 plexed at her explanation than when he saw 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 the mysterious profile at his mother's window, 
 or met the prophetic scarlet-mantled soothsayer 
 of the forest. 
 
 " And now, my son, that I have replied 
 to your question, I pray you, answer me as 
 frankly. May I believe that what you told 
 me is true, and that you will remember your 
 promise, and not again seek intercourse with 
 the young person under the care of the vene- 
 rable lady of St. Mary's priory ?" 
 
 " You mean my cousin ?" 
 
 " Perhaps you may so call her ; but I am 
 grieved that a child of mine should thus ac- 
 knowledge a connexion so disgraceful." 
 
 Basil Sydney had ever felt and ever mani- 
 fested a profound respect for his mother ; she 
 had been to him the beau-ideal, not only of all 
 that was kind and good, but of all that was 
 magnificent and admirable in woman ; yet at 
 the moment she made the observation, he felt 
 how little he should desire such a one to be 
 his wife. The idea of the beautiful Rosalind 
 being considered disg7'aceful grated so painfully
 
 THE OUTLAW. 291 
 
 on his feelings, that he could not help say- 
 ing, '• so highly did he think of the young 
 lady she alluded to, that he only wished to 
 Heaven she could be considered his legal 
 cousin ; and then, indeed, he should be but 
 too proud to present her to her ladyship as 
 her daughter." 
 
 Lady Sydney had lately experienced contra- 
 diction from her husband ; she was, never- 
 theless, ill prepared for such an observation 
 from her son. She had relied upon his prac- 
 tising the doctrine of passive obedience ; and 
 she reproached him in terms so bitter, so 
 severe, that, without giving the promise she 
 required, he abruptly left her chamber. A 
 breach with her son was a matter she had 
 never calculated upon ; and she relied too 
 strongly on her power when she resolved 
 that she would not see him, previous to his 
 departure, unless he made what she could 
 consider a fitting apology. 
 
 Basil went forth in no gentle temper to 
 seek his father, and found the baronet con- 
 
 o2
 
 ^92 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 siderably elated by two circumstances : — the 
 first was, that he had the satisfaction of being 
 accompanied, or rather followed, by Ralph, 
 who, almost recovered, looked more green and 
 picturesque than ever ; the second was, that he 
 had just been brought a great speckled diver, 
 or Loon, as it was commonly called, and he ex- 
 hibited it to his son with evident satisfaction, 
 descanting on its wonderful fitness for its mode 
 of life, and illustrating the wisdom and good- 
 ness of God by displaying one of his beautiful 
 works. 
 
 " I trust, my dear Basil," said the excellent 
 man, whose cheerfulness ever led him to hope 
 for the best, ''that you will in a little time 
 be able to return to us; despite the anti- 
 cipations that are bruited about, I dare say 
 matters will be settled tranquilly. I cannot 
 believe that James will persevere in a persecut- 
 ing spirit ; and the best of all proofs is, that he 
 has not taken any notice of the events which oc- 
 curred here, though you had reason to think he 
 would do so : our friend, too, I hope is safe :
 
 THE OUTLAW. 293 
 
 and so all things are ordered for the best — 
 from the formation of this Loon, whose correct 
 name I would have you remember, Basil, is 
 Colj/mbus Glacialis, to the arrangement and 
 motion of the 'great globe itself.' I trust I 
 shall have a pleasant summer of it ; and I have 
 just arranged with my poor follower here, 
 touching a pair of Loxia, that have come to 
 the downs yonder, being anxious to secure 
 them alive: they are rare birds, and little 
 is known of their habits. Ah, my poor boy ! 
 how I lament that your time is so totally con- 
 sumed without the freedom which I wake but 
 to enjoy, and but sleep to dream of. It is a glo- 
 rious privilege to live in a place like this to look 
 up to the clear sky of heaven, and watch those 
 clouds, tablets of the Almighty's will, whereon 
 he writes his behests — to commune with the 
 streams, and hear the words of wisdom in their 
 gurgling voices — to hail the landscape as a 
 friend, and cheer to the gladsome hills, that 
 answer by their echoes. Oh, Basil ! it would 
 break my heart should I by any circumstance be
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 forced to leave this glorious place — my birth- 
 right by inheritance ! And my heart pants for 
 the time, my son, when you, too, will value 
 it as I do." 
 
 The old man clasped his hands in ecstasy, 
 and murmured forth a prayer ; brief it might 
 be called by man, but of magnitude in the sight 
 of Him, who computes our feelings, not our 
 words. " It is very strange," he continued, 
 seating himself on the marble steps of a rustic 
 temple, upon whose top was placed a dove 
 holding a branch of olive in its bill, " but I feel 
 so very tranquil — so very happy, I could 
 sleep on these stones, where all is so placid 
 around me. Ralph, there must be one or two 
 of your pups in that cover of seedling oaks 
 which lies to the left, for truly I heard a rust- 
 ling — did you not, Basil .?"" 
 
 " I thought I did," replied his son ; " can it 
 be that any of the fawns have broken into the 
 enclosure ? or some of the forest swine, per- 
 chance ; they are great trespassers ! Indeed, 
 father, you countenance all manners of trespass,
 
 THE OUTLAW. 295 
 
 in a way that certainly I could not tolerate. 
 It surely must be the wild swine, revelling 
 among the young trees. See to the cause, 
 Ralph." 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" said Ralph, chuckling, but not- 
 withstanding keeping his eye fixed upon the 
 copse. " My master loves to see everything 
 enjoy itself." 
 
 " I wish, my dear boy, you were not going ; 
 for, despite my natural trust in Providence, 
 there is so much peril in your profession, that 
 my heart bleeds for you. What signifies to me 
 the fate of kingdoms if you become a martyr ? 
 I am not, I confess, patriot enough to wish your 
 blood tabe sacrificed, even to save the crown !" 
 
 " Treason !" shouted a voice from behind the 
 temple. " Treason, by the mass ! Mark ye 
 that. Bill," exclaimed Sergeant Snap'em, coming 
 forward, followed by three or four soldiers. 
 " Mark it, all of you, boys ; you heard what he 
 said, as well as I." 
 
 From the very copse where the rustling had 
 attracted Sir Everard's attention, issued an
 
 296 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 officer with a suitable guard, who, touching his 
 cap slightly to the astonished Basil, proceeded 
 to deprive the baronet of that liberty in which 
 he had just been glorying, as the very holiest 
 of earthly blessings. 
 
 Sir Everard seemed so petrified by the rapi- 
 dity of the transaction, that he remained per- 
 fectly still where he sat ; while his son, whose 
 brow and cheek had become pallid and rigid as 
 marble, clenched his teeth upon his under lip 
 till the blood burst out from beneath the pres- 
 sure. 
 
 " Stand up, old gentleman r exclaimed the 
 ruffianly sergeant, laying his hand upon the 
 collar of the baronet's cloak. ^ 
 
 Without a word, without a sound, Basil 
 stretched his arm to its full extent, and dealt 
 the insolent a blow that made him bite the 
 dust at Sir Everard's feet ; he then placed his 
 foot upon the prostrate body, and turning to 
 the officer, in the firm, clear, but deep tone of 
 concentrated rage, (for it is only slight anger 
 which makes the voice tremulous,) exclaimed.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 297 
 
 "By God's death, sir, if you, or one of 
 these men, lay finger upon the hem of my 
 father's garment, you shall make atonement 
 with your lives. If you, sir, bearing the King's 
 uniform, have aught to allege against this 
 gentleman, produce your warrant; if legal, it 
 shall not be disputed; though — and again, by 
 God's holy death, I swear — it shall be dearly 
 paid for." 
 
 " Basil ! Basil !" exclaimed Lady Sydney, 
 who, though she had resolved not to make peace 
 with her son till he had rendered a sufficient 
 apology, had followed him by another path to 
 the plantations, and watched even his shadow, 
 as it passed over the green and level walks, 
 with a fondness which only a mother feels — 
 " Basil ! Basil !" she exclaimed, throwing her- 
 self on his bosom, " destroy not yourself. 
 Sir," continued the proud yet humbled woman, 
 turning to the officer, who had doffed his cap 
 when she appeared, " he is enraged — mad- 
 dened at this insult to our house ! He knows 
 not what he says. My life upon his loyalty."
 
 298 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 '* Mother," said Basil, disengaging himself 
 from her grasp, " this is no place, no scene 
 for you ; withdraw, I beseech — I intreat you. 
 Your warrant, sir, — your warrant ?" 
 
 The officer presented it to him, and Basil 
 saw at once that it was in form ; but his brow 
 faded to a still more ghastly paleness, when he 
 read that his father was accused of that which 
 hundreds had died for — " favouring and secret- 
 ing outlaws, and obstructing his Majesty's offi- 
 cers in the discharge of their duty,'"' and that it 
 directed him to be forthwith committed to the 
 Tower, until a fitting opportunity to try him 
 for the same occurred. 
 
 Major Raymond had by this time joined the 
 party, with many of the domestics from the 
 house ; nor was there wanting a bevy of stout 
 foresters, who, at all times jealously, yet cau- 
 tiously, watched the movements of the soldiers 
 when they passed near their coverts. These 
 reckless fellows had burst Hke a torrent over 
 the enclosures ; with significant gestures to Cap-
 
 THE OUTLAW. 299 
 
 tain Sydney and to each other, they formed 
 themselves into a line along the straight mossy 
 walk, looked to the touch-holes of their guns, 
 and placed their hands on the hafts of their long 
 knives. The whole scene was singular and im- 
 posing. Lady Sydney stood by her son's side ; 
 and Sir Everard, more collected than at first, 
 had risen from his seat, and bowing to the 
 officer, (whose respectful manner showed that 
 he had a very disagreeable duty to perform,) 
 surrendered himself without a word. The 
 sergeant was raised by some of his comrades ; 
 he had been severely punished, for blood 
 stained the marble step he had lain upon : 
 but suffering had increased rather than abated 
 his ferocity, and he pointed out to the atten- 
 tion of the officer, Ralph Bradwell, who, like 
 a faithful dog, was following the footsteps of 
 his banished master, with as much eagerness 
 as if he had been on his way to a palace, not a 
 prison. In an instant the poor fellow was seiz- 
 ed, and a cord bound so tightly around his
 
 300 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 wrists, that he screamed aloud with an agony 
 that caused Sir Everard and all present to 
 remonstrate. 
 
 '' I fear," said he who commanded the party, 
 " that little mercy can be granted to one whose 
 disaffection is so well known. Affidavits have 
 been made that this creature has been, not only 
 in correspondence with many offenders, but is 
 positively acquainted with the hiding-place of 
 the Outlaw, upon whose head, from recent dis- 
 coveries, an increased price is set. Will you, 
 sir, then, use your influence to compel this 
 man to confess what he knows relative to one 
 so justly obnoxious to the Government ?'''' 
 
 " The creature would not understand me; 
 he is only half-witted, as all here can testify," 
 replied Sir Everard, " and has ever appeared 
 sensible of only two emotions — love and pain." 
 
 " We must try the latter then, presently," 
 replied the officer, calmly : and seeing a mani- 
 festation of tumult amongst the foresters and 
 retainers who, as they approached the house, 
 formed a considerable and irritated party, he
 
 THE OUTLAW. 301 
 
 appealed to the loyalty and good sense of Major 
 Raymond and Captain Sydney to keep peace 
 among them ; upon which Major Raymond 
 very wisely took upon himself to tell the assem- 
 bly that evil, not good, would result to Sir 
 Everard Sydney from any attempt made at 
 rescue or violence. 
 
 When Sir Everard mounted the steps of 
 Sydney Pleasance, he addressed a few words 
 to his faithful and humble friends, express- 
 ing a hope, which certainly he did not feel, 
 that he should soon be again among them. 
 
 '' If I am not suffered to return," continued 
 the venerable man ; he paused, laid his hand 
 upon his son''s arm, and, leading him forward, 
 added in a voice trembling with emotion 
 
 " I bequeath you to each other i" 
 
 There was not a dry eye amongst the num- 
 bers who congregated to witness his departure. 
 In the walks, avenues, and squares of Sydney 
 Pleasance, mothers held up their infants that 
 his look might rest upon and bless them ; old 
 men and women knelt on the cold earth, and
 
 S02 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 by the way-side, and implored the justice (not 
 the mercy) of God on his behalf; young men 
 crowded to the carriage windows, and begged 
 to be permitted to save him, or to die in his 
 defence, and it was with exceeding difficulty 
 they were restrained from acting according to 
 their own impulse; in which case, a far more 
 numerous body of troops would have found it 
 no easy task to convey Sir Everard a prisoner 
 to London. 
 
 Lady Sydney, overwhelmed but not over- 
 thrown, astonished her husband by declaring 
 her resolve of sharing his captivity. What- 
 ever were her private feelings, she was too 
 proud not to affect a total disbelief in the accu- 
 sations preferred against him ; nor was it till 
 assured by the commanding officer that he 
 could not be so accompanied, that she con- 
 sented to remain at Sydney Pleasance, which 
 might be almost said to have been converted 
 into a garrison froiti the number of soldiers left 
 there, until his Majesty's pleasure was farther 
 known.
 
 THE OUTLAW. 303 
 
 The kind old gentleman had hoped that 
 Ralph's safety, if not his liberty, was secured 
 by the strong interest that had been used on 
 his behalf. 
 
 He little knew that in the back stable-court, 
 much mirth had been afforded to the brutal 
 soldiery by the poor fellow's sufferings. Un- 
 able to extract a confession or a word from the 
 faithful creature, they tortured him in a way 
 with which they were but too familiar: they 
 dislocated his thumbs with their cruel screws, 
 drew blood in torrents from his sides with 
 their knotted whips^ and laughed and gibed 
 in bitter mockery at the contortions which 
 his sufferings excited ; and ever and anon 
 the only words that burst from his lips — his 
 poor, innocent lips, swollen and black, and 
 cracked with pain, were — " Master, master! 
 Poor Ralph ! poor Ralph ! " Upon which 
 they laughed and jeered more loudly than be- 
 fore ; and fearing that on Sir Everard's depar- 
 ture from the park the crowd would separate 
 that were there assembled, and perchance some
 
 304 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 of those stout foresters take summary vengeance 
 into their own hands, they threw him into the 
 very kennel where it had so often been his plea- 
 sure to feed and tend his favourite dogs, saying 
 that, if not fit food for them, they could hang 
 him in the morning. 
 
 But the dogs did not desert their friend; 
 they licked his wounds with a tenderness which 
 soothed and appeased his agony : and it pleased 
 God that, after a time, he fell into a sweet 
 sleep — even there ! 
 
 We will waken him and others in the next 
 volume. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, 
 
 Dorset Street, Fleet Street. 
 
 %