The Tide of Life: a novel

Chapter I

Nothing extenuate nor aught set down in malice. Shakespeare. Most unwillingly does the human heart resign its blessed privilege of hoping. It is surprising to those whose judgment of an event is uninfluenced by feeling, how tenaciously love will cling to the faintest shadow of promise; how it hopes, as it were, against hope. In our own days, we have seen that all the causes of de spair afforded by long years of silence5 peril, and exile, even " in thrilling regions VOL. III. B of thick-ribb'd ice," are powerless to ex tinguish that light in the soul ; and, in accordance with this natural tenacity to cherish hope, the family of the lost agent, after recovering from the first shock given them by the discovery of the blood-stained band, and cut hat, began, by degrees, to doubt the certainty of their fear, for the body continued undiscovered in spite of the strictest search.

On the morning of the third day, when Edward and Hen rietta met in the hitherto deserted parlour, (for Mrs. Harrison, ill from anxiety and alarm, was confined to her chamber) he urgpd this circumstance as a plea for the possibility of his father having escaped from his intended assassins with life, and being detained in some temporary place of refuge till he should have recovered from the injuries they had inflicted. Perhaps he did not himself fully entertain the hope he expressed, but he was moved to name it, by the expression of utter, despairing wretchedness which Henrietta's countenance wore, and by the listless de jection of her manner. She listened to him in silence, and, as if his words, though they reached her ear, conveyed no meaning to her understanding. He was surprised ; but thinking that grief and anxiety for her guardian caused this strangeness of manner, he continued his attempts at cheer ing her, when she suddenly interrupted him ; starting as from a reverie, and speak ing abruptly and hurriedly, " But, Oliver Wrenshaw, Edward 1 He is threatened with absolute penury — is he not V " My Henrietta, yes.

But surely this is not a moment, whilst fearing, even for the life of my father — " '• You said, a minute ago, you had no fear !" she exclaimed " Nay," he said, " if we think the matter over, I believe you will allow—" B " Yes, yes," again an impatient inter ruption, " I do hope — I do think — nay, it is my firm belief he will return, Edward." And as she spoke, she raised her eyes, and fixed them on him, with a searching, earnest gaze. He changed colour, and looked away from her. She continued hurriedly, '' What I wished to say about Master Wrenshaw was, that (the day you spoke to me about him, Edward,) I quite forgot my ruby necklace. It is of great price, and I never wear it — I care not for jewels. Take it, and sell it for him." Edward was absolutely startled ; not at the generosity of the offer, (for he well knew the liberality of soul she possessed,) but at the ungracious manner — so unlike that with which Henrietta usually enhanced the favours she conferred — in which it was made.

She spoke as if she relieved her mind of a load weighing on it, by the proposition, and when he would have taken her hand, to thank her, she drew it back with a gesture almost expressive of repugnance. Edward had an instinctive dread of ask ing her the cause of this emotion ; he feigned, therefore, not to have observed it. "Dear Henrietta," he said, gratefully, " you are too good — too generous ! It were shame in me to avail myself of such a proffer. If my father should return, he will, I trust, be wrought upon by your pr6mised entreaties to bestow the loan of a small sum on Oliver ; if not, I have other means — " She interrupted him more passionately than before. " No, no ! Edward — no other means but this ! In mercy to me, in mercy to your self, take the jewels !" And she clasped her hands imploringly.

" Impossible !" he exclaimed, " you do not think of what you offer — your mother's last legacy to her child, the heir-loom of your race ! You dare not bestow it on me, if you would ! But why speak on such a subject now 1 At the moment when all our thoughts are due to my poor father — " She sighed profoundly. " Ah ! my dear guardian ! But you are sure he has not perished?" " I have, undoubtedly, good hope of his return," he said. "God grant it! — You will take the jewels, Edward 1" He looked irritated and distressed. " Henrietta," he replied, " I marvel at this strange persistency ! I neither can nor will accept your gift, though I thank you for it in all love ; and so I am right sure would Wrenshaw." "Nay !— It is for you only." " And yet his need weighs on your mind to the exclusion of nearer and juster cares," he said reproachfully. '' Oh, Edward, no ! it is that I may save you from — ."

She was interrupted, by the door opening ; the old cook, looking pale and frightened stood at it, trembling as she spoke. " So please you, Master Edward, my Lord Campden prays you to come to him with all speed." He started and changed colour " How ! Hath there been any dis covery — " He paused greatly disturbed. " Oh sir, sir !" cried the woman wring ing her hands, " he owns it all. The cruel, cruel villain !" " Who 1 — what do you mean?" de manded Edward, impatiently, trembling so violently at the same time that he was compelled to clutch at the back of the agent's chair for support. "Perry, sir, — John, Master Edward ! — He owns he killed poor master, and that Dickon and that horrid witch, old Joan. helped him. The man who is come for you, told me so." The colour returned to Edward's cheek as rapidly as it had flown, and he breathed freely.

" It is impossible !" he muttered ; then hearing Henrietta's low cry of dismay, he turned to soothe aud re-assure her, but started when he met her eyes, which were not suffused with tears of natural grief, but actually gleaming on him with an expression of doubt, fear, and horror, that made him tremble for her sanity. Greatly alarmed he approached her, but she rose and waved him away with tho same gesture, by which she had already once repulsed him. " No !" she said, almost inarticulately, " your father calls you hence." With a shudder he vainly strove to re press, and which her quick eye failed not to mark, he turned and obeyed her, following the cook from the room, in silence, whilst Henrietta sank on a stool, and sob bed bitterly, exclaiming in a low voice, "Algernon, Algernon! never should I have suffered thi3 shame and agony for thee."

But her weakness lasted only for a moment, blushing at the forbidden di rection her thoughts had taken, she started up, pushed back her dishevelled curls, wiped her eyes, and hastened to the chamber of the suffering wife, to banish, in the exercise of holy charities, her unbidden and, alas ! now, sinful regret. Edward, meanwhile, proceeded at his best speed to Campden Manor. A serving man, as he took the reins which the young man threw to him on alighting, said — " My lord bade me tell you, Master Har rison, that Perry is here, and that he waits your coming, to examine him on a certain confession he hath made to mine host of the Stag, touching your worshipful father Will it please you walk this wayl" And he conducted the agent's son to the B chamber where Lord Campden was wont to execute his judicial functions.

Edward found his father's patron supported by three other magistrates ; and was received by them with much courtesy, and looks of great commiseration. " My suspicions of your father's serving man, Perry, were not as groundless as you deemed them, my young friend;" said Lord Campden, " it grieves me to tell you that he hath avowed his guilt, and made full confession of a most awful murder." " My lord," replied Edward, with emotion, " I trust that neither yourself, nor these worshipful gentlemen, will deem me unfilial or unmindful of that which is due to my honoured father's memory — if indeed he be dead ! — when I beg you not to give implicit credence to our poor servant, whose brain is of the weakest, and who hath once before accused himself of a crime, of which he was innocent pretending impossible subjection to a personal manifestation of the Evil one."

" And wherefore impossible, I would pray you, young gentleman V asked the neigh bouring justice. " It is an allowed fact. that such manifestations are permitted; and equally certain that the unhappy victims will, at times, acknowledge their intercourse with Satan, even when they know that death will be the doom such confession must draw down on them. Is the prisoner an acknowledged madman, or hath he full use of his wits in the ordinary business ef life V " He hath wit enough for a serving-man. my good lord." " Then never talk to me of madness ! Good sooth, my Lord Campden, it were a strange world, if all who steal or murder. might go scathless, if they urged wandering wits as an excuse for* their crimes. I marvel at a discreet young gentleman like yourself, Master Harrison, entertaining so fond an opinion.

Do you gentlemen of the Temple quiet your consciences, by the thought that your pecadilloes at the gaming table or the tavern proceed from temporary insanity . Commend me to such a doctrine for filling the world with unhanged rogues !" Edward did not answer this speech ; the teaching of the free thinking Oliver had somewhat freed him from the prejudi ces common to the age ; but he had no ar guments wherewith to support his opinions, and other reasons sorely shackled him in his attempted defence of the man accused of his father's murder. It could not but ap pear unnatural, suspicious, and graceless, that he should be the accused's defender ; therefore, he silently abandoned the cause of the miserable Perry, and tacitly yielded tip — as, alas! was too fatally his weak custom — his own judgment to that of others.

The accused was, meantime, brought in between a constable and the host of the Stag, and recognised Lord Campden and his young master with a sullen obei sance, He looked pale and haggard, even beyond his wont, and his eyes, ever restless and wandering, were full of a wild light. " Wretched man," said Lord Campden, " what is this tale you have communicated to the host of the Stag ? Are you ready to repeat it, and to affirm its truth on your oath V A low, muttered affirmative was given. " Swear the prisoner," said the second justice to the clerk. The oath was duly administered. " Now, John Perry," continued Lord Campden, "I command you, tell us all you know, touching the late William Har rison." " Please your worship," said the prisoner, evidently avoiding looking in the direction of his young master, " my mother, and my brother Dickon, are poor, and Dickon hath a wife scarce fit for the home of a labourer, seeing she was from early years a waiting-damsel to Mistress L'Estrange, who spoiled her — as great ladies will oft times spoil their maidens. — She is fair and dainty, unused to hard work and hard fare ; of late, too, she hath had an infant to rear and care for, and my mother hath at times lacked bread, because Dickon spends all on his dainty love — " Here young Harrison interrupted the prisoner.

" Your pardon, my lord," he said, " but I can distinctly affirm that this part of the evidence is false ; and, I fear me, uttered from a spirit of revenge and spite, seeing that the young woman of whom he speaks, broke troth wdth him, and married his bro ther." " What say you to that, prisoner?" asked the other magistrate. " My lord, I am on ray oath, and I swear that I speak only the truth, and that my good young master is deceived, and has long been so in my brother. To satisfy the wants of his vain wife, he was tempted, not long ago, to break into ray master's house when he knew all the family were absent at prayer-meeting, and did then rob him of one hundred and forty pounds the property of my Lady Campden." Lord Campden glanced at Edward, who listened, with amazement, to this singular confession.

" Were you privy to the robbery 1" asked the Viscount. " No, my lord ; I knew not of Richard's guilt till of late." The prisoner paused. " When did he communicate it to you V* " Some few days since ; when he first be gan tempting me to tell him when my master went to collect the rents at Charring worth." " But such a sum as one hundred and forty pounds was great wealth to a peasant. He could not surely have spent it?" " I don't know," said Perry, doggedly. " He told me that they were poor as ever; but he did not tell me what he had done with the gold." " And you yielded to his tempting, and betrayed to him the day on which your master would be absent on this fatal errand V " I said him nay, a many times, your worship ! but on Thursday -even, . my master not returning at his usual time, Mistress Harrison bade me go meet him on the way.

Outside our gate I found Dickon, loitering alone ; he joined me not then, for I went through the church-yard, and he round it — but in the high-road we met again, and walked together till we reached the gate — (about a bow's shot from the church) — that leadeth into the Conygree. As we went, he urged me sore to tell him when I thought Master Harrison would next gather his rents. Just at the moment I saw my master go into the Conygree, and answered, ' He hath gathered them to-day ; and yonder he is, going home through the Conygree ; go, an' thou wilt, and take his money, whilst I tarry in the field.' " " But why," asked the neighbouring justice, " should your master — having about him so great a charge — have walked so late in what is, (if I remember it rightly,) a sort of wilderness on my Lord Campden's domain V " 'Tis the shortest way to Master Harri son's house, as my lord will tell your worship."

Lord Campden nodded assent, and the justice commanded the prisoner to proceed with his evidence. " I returned after a time," he continued, " and went into the Conygree. It was dark, but I knew the way; moreover, there were sounds that guided me, I walked on, and found my mother, ray brother, and my master, Master Harrison, was on the ground with Dickon kneeling on his breast." A thrill of horror ran through the listeners. " Was your master dead V asked Lord Campden. " No ! he called out, ' Ah ! rogues will you kill me?' and I bade my brother not murder my master." He paused. " Go on !— what said he V " He said, * Peace, peace ! you are a fool,' and straightway strangled him." Again he paused, and glanced towards young Harrison, wdio leaned, white as ashes, against the table ; Lord Campden's eyes followed his.

" The fellow hath some touch of pity," he thought ; then added, aloud — " Master- Clerk, Mr. Harrison is ill ; give him your aid to leave the chamber." And the half-swooning son was removed, and spared the horrible detail of his father's murder. John continued to relate how Richard had taken the murdered man's money, and thrown it into his mother's lap ; how they had carried the body into the garden, (our readers may remember the spot on which stood the old sun-dial) and agreed to throw it into the sink which was by Wallington's mill behind the garden ; and how they had sent him (John) up to the court next the house, to listen lest any should disturb them at their un hallowed task. " And did you return from thence, to them V asked Lord Campden. " No, my lord — I went out of the court by the gate that leads to the town, where I met John Pearce and returned home with him."

"But the band, hat, and comb, found near the furzes of Ebrington," asked the second magistrate, " how came they so far from the place where the crime was com mitted 1" " I had taken them from Dickon's hand. scarce wotting what I did, and carried them with me to the hen-roost, where I lay till the moon rose, and from whence, (fearing they might be found on me,) I bore them to the plaee where they were picked up by the woman." Perry's evidence closed here ; and the justices conversed in low tones, apart, for some minutes. " The story is feasible, and clearly told," said the second magistrate ; " you will, of course, agree with me, in committing the fellow for trial at the next assize 1" " Assuredly," replied Lord Campden ; "and we must, at once, give orders that the sink be searched for our unhappy agent's body."

" And the murderer and the old woman . Have they been apprehended V " They were secured last night ; Rogers has charge of them without. If you think the examination of yonder fellow has been sufficiently strict, we will dismiss him, and have them brought in." " I will cross-question him yet a little, with your good leave, my lord." And the active Justice commenced a course of rigorous cross-questioning that must apparently have elicited some con tradictory statement, if the tale had been a mere fable ; but it produced no such effect. Perry never wavered in his assertions ; never altered the least detail of his horri ble confession, and it was with the most perfect conviction of its truth, that the bench, at length, ordered his removal, de siring the constable, however, to keep him near at hand, in order that he might be confronted with the other witnesses if need were.

Richard and Joan were next ushered into the office. The old woman, bent with years, and bearing on her wrinkled face, and in her faded blue eyes, the traces not only of Time's enmity, but of the indulgence of an evil and spiteful temper — the miser able inheritance of which she had trans mitted to her first-born — might w7ell ex cuse the glance of aversion and distrust that the magistrates bent on her; but it was another proof — amongst the many that exist — of the power of prejudice in influencing our very senses, when the active justice received the same impression from the face of Richard Perry, which certainly bore no physiognomical condem nation in its handsome features. "Prisoners," said the Lord Campden, " you are charged with a crime abhorrent alike to God and man. Your near kins man, John Perry' — touched, we trust, with due penitence for his guilty participation in your deed— hath confessed, that on the night of Thursday, August 1 6th, you did most wickedly do to death, Master William Harrison, of Campden, led to the act by sinful greed of gold.

Clerk, read the prisoner's deposition to them." The clerk obeyed, and whilst he read, the Justices attentively scanned the faces of the listeners ; it was difficult to guess what effect the reading had on the aged crone ; she moved her mouth and jaws in cessantly, and her small eyes twinkled, opening and shutting constantly ; but such manifestations were possibly only habitual to her age. The countenance of Richard became deeply flushed as he lis tened, but it expressed neither fear, shame, nor consciousness ; surprise of the most extreme kind, horror, dismay, and indignation were alone legible upon his face. When the clerk ceased, Lord Campden addressed the accused pair, solemnly, in these words — " What say you to the charge, prisoners V " Not guilty, my lord, so please you !" answered Richard, frankly and readily.

" As I hope for God's mercy when I die.' " And you, woman 1" Joan, who had been long mumbling her rage, burst, at this question, into a cry, so shrill and piercing, that the gentlemen were, for a moment, startled. " Say ! quotha !" she screamed, after this ebulition, " say1? marry, that John Perry, though he be my son, is a foul, lying knave. I would he had died in his cradle, the unnatural monster ! All plagues fall upon him! may he never know a night's rest again ; may aches and pains worse than any — " " Hush ! thou vile witch," interposed the second justice, sternly, " cease thy screech owl banning. Truly, it argues little for thy innocence, that thou shouldst be thus ready to curse thine own offspring." Joan's violence had destroyed the shade of favour with wdiich her younger son's bold and true bearing had just inspired him.

" So please your worship," said constable Rogers, respectfully, " the gammer hath a very evil tongue ; I have been already obliged to threaten her with your honour's ordering her the brank." " Marry, and shall," said Lord Camp den, " if she pdo not bridle it. How say you, woman — give the answer the law ex acteth—Guilty or Not Guilty V " Not Guilty — if I must needs say it,' responded the incorrigible scold ; " and I marvel, that a learned man like your lord ship, should ask a poor helpless body like me, crippled with rheumatics and years, if she be guilty of murder and rob bery ! Fine crimes i' faith for one who hath scarce hands to help herself." " You have hands to hold an apron for the ungodly spoil your son gave into your keeping, and it is with that alone — with aiding and abetting in his guilt that you are charged," said Lord Campden, sternly.

" Once more, do you plead not guilty to that charge?" " Ay, my lord — lam not guilty — nor ever was in all my born days ! There is not a VOL. III. c woman in the 'varsal world that has been, and is, so put upon as I am ! Here's my son Dickon must go and marry a dainty quean, and make me no longer mistress of my own house — and now John — all mischief light on him ! would end my old days on the gallows." The Magistrates exchanged glances. " So your son hath a wife but little suited to him?" said the second Justice, " one who is, perchance, dissatisfied with her condition 1" " 1 don't know — I — " responded Joan, sulkily ; "I do but know 'twas an ill day when he married her." " Mother !" exclaimed Richard, for getting, in his anxiety to defend the charac ter of his wife, the respect due to the pre sence in which he stood, " mother, how can you bely Grace so shamefully !

It was a proud, and a happy day, for me when I did marry her, and that you know full well." " If directly, or indirectly, she hath led you to the commission of this awful crime, it was the darkest day of your life," said Lord Campden, solemnly. " Con stable, remove the woman — I would ques tion the prisoners separately — Now, Dickon," he continued, as old Joan was led, complaining, away, " where were you on the evening of the sixteenth of August ? Remember, you are on your oath." " My lord, I was with my brother, even as he hath said. I met him in the road, and walked with him till we reached the Conygree gate. He told me that he was going in search of his master, who had not returned so early as was his wont ; and added, suddenly — ' But, methinks, that is he yonder, going in at the Conygree gate.

Good Dickon, hie after, aud see if it be lie.' I told him, I had seen nobody, and that his eyes played him false, but he was firm in his belief that it was his master, and, at his prayer, I went into the Conygree. There was nobody c in the wilderness, as the folks call it; so I made speed out again, and met mother by the way. She said, that being on her road home from Campden she had met John ; that he told her I was inside the Conygree gate, and as she cared not to go down the lane after dark all alone, she had come to seek me, that we might walk back together." Here Dickon paused ; and again the magistrates conferred aside. " He cannot prove an alibi, that is manifest," said the justice. " Every circumstance tallies with John Perry's confession. The fellow is a ready-witted, confident, handsome knave, but this tale of being sent after an imaginary Mr. Harrison totally lacks probability.

How think you, my lord V " I am of opinion that his words con demn him. But we will have him removed now, and examine the old woman and his wife. You have summoned Grace Perry as a witness, Master Constable V " Ay, my lord ; she waits your pleasure in the servants' hall, as you charged that she should have no communication with the prisoners. " Bring the old woman back again now.' Joan, on being examined as to her where-abouts on the Thursday evening, confirmed (with many invectives against her elder son,) the tale which Richard had told ; and when the weeping Grace, in her turn, was questioned she was com pelled by truth to own, that it was late that fatal night — long after dark — ere either her mother or husband returned from the town. Thus every circumstance confirmed the terrible confession of the elder brother, and Lord Campden, and his fellow magistrates, committed all three to take their trial at the approaching assize for wilful murder.

Orders were given for searching the sink, and amidst the ruins of old Campden Hall, for the body, and after seeing young Harrison again, and condoling with him on the fatal certainty of his father's fate, the Lord Campden and his friends wdthdrew to the private apartments of the mansion, to discuss together the startling event which had engrossed their attention during the whole morning. " Young Harrison appears a very weak headed fellow ;" observed the justice to his host, " first he doubted against the clearest evidence — nay, in the face of a positive confession — the guilt of his father's murderer, and then, when we told him where to direct the search for the body, he stared at us, like one just roused from a bewilder ing dream." " He is overwhelmed with grief and horror, poor youth," replied Lord Camp den, compassionately, " and truly I mar vel not at it.

The crime is of the most startling and fearful kind." " It is indeed. Hath Perry's cottage been searched for the money stolen from the agent V " It hath, but none was found there. It is possibly hidden elsewhere. John de clares he has no knowledge of it." " The young woman is a comely wench, with a look beyond her station ; I war rant you she knew nought of the matter." " Ha ! your good worship hath ever an eye for beauty ! and indeed Grace is a comely woman, and was formerly waiting damsel to my wife's young friend Mistress Henrietta L'Estrange, which may account for ber bettermost manner. I doubt not of her innocence myself ; indeed Perry doth not charge her with more than being an unconscious cause of the deed, from her delicacy, and her husband's foolish indul gence of her." " Mistress L'Estrange?" said the magistrate, musingly, "Is she a daughter of the L'Estrange who fell at Worcester I" " Even the same."

" Good faith ! I knew her father well ; he was a brave and honourable gentleman and her mother, as fair a woman as ever graced a court — " And led away from the subject of the Perrys, by the familiar name of their old acquaintance, the Magistrates talked of the days of their youth, till the butler an nounced dinner. As they crossed the hall in obedience to the summons, the clerk, who had gone with the constables to see the prisoners safely lodged in the town jail, and was just returned, approached, and requested to speak with his lord. " A strong proof of the truth of Perry's confession hath just appeared, my lord," he said, hastily. " As we left the house, Richard Perry, who was far behind his brother, being moved, to the shedding of tears, by his wife's grief, pulled out his handkerchief to dry his eyes, and a piece of inkle with a reeve knot at the end of it, fell at the same moment from his pocket.