The Gipsy boy : a romance of the woods and the wilds

Front matter

THE RETURN OF THE LOST CHILI) TO ITS MOTHER, AFTER ITS RESCUE -TtOM THE HANDS OF TUE GIPSIBS. THE GIPSY BOY: A EOMANCE or THE WOODS AND THE WILDS. BY THOMAS PREST, AUTHOR OF "ELA, THE OUTCAST;" "ANGELINA;" " MARIITTX;" " OL» HOUSE OF WEST-STKBET," etc. To hear thee apeak might calm a madman's frensy, Till by attention he forgot his sorrow. Rovrz. LONDON : PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY E. LLOYD, 12, SALISBURY-SQUARE, FLEET-STREET. THE GIPSY BOY. A ROMANCE OF THE WOODS AND THE WILDS BY THE AUTHOR OF "ELA, THE OUTCAST:" "OLD HOUSE OF WEST STREET;' "MANIAC FATHER;" ETC, ETC. sSHAPTFR I THE TRAVELLERS. — THE ACCIDENT. — THE GIPSY BOY. — THE WANDERING TRIBE. THE FEARFUL MEETING. Luxuriant summer now showered its most bounteous blessings arouRd — sweetest season to the enraptured senses of the children of the earth, when nature displays her richest foliage, and decorates the fields and meadows with myriads of indescri bable gems, breathing the perfume of Heaven.

No. Delightful, blushing summer ! sweetly the birds attuned their throats to the wild melodies of love, and the face of creation glowed with exulting beauty. Evening advanced. The grey shadows of twilight stole over the scenery around ; while the bright monarch of the day, retiring to his western canopy, in clouds of purple and gold, cast a crimson lustre upon the summits of the lofty Mils, and the luxuriant foliage of an adjacent wood. It was, in sooth, a peaceful hour, and such an one as is calculated to inspire the imagination with the most sublime thoughts. Even so calm and unclouded is the evening of age to a virtuous man ; like the setting sun, adorned with tempered lustre, he sinks into the grave, directing his course to the goal from whence he may ris»egain with renovated splendour.

And now the bright moon burst forth with sweet and chastening effect. The heavens presented an appearance of one immeasurable ocean of silvery radiance, and the whole face of nature was bathed in the broad, mellow light. The day had been sultry, but now the air was cool and refreshing, and came teeming to the grateful senses with the fragrance of innumerable flowers. It was an evening to tranquillize the ruffled emotions of the care-corroded breast ; an evening for deep meditation, elevating the soul from the contemplation of the glories of nature, to wonder, love, and admiration of nature's God! And what a charming scene was that upon which the pale moon now shed her lucid beams; so varied and so picturesque. At some distance was a beautiful wood, shel tered from the northern blasts by a long chain of hills, bordered with trees and shrubs, tbe growth of many centuries, whilst rising above a canopy of luxuriant foliage, the proud towers of an ancient edifice met the gaze of the far distant tra veller, and the lofty turrets cast their long shadows across an extensive lake, that partly overspread the neighbouring valley.

Chapter II. The Gipsy Queen

— THE^ FEARFUL TALE. — THE CURSE, AND THE OATH OF VENGEANCE. Apparently astounded by the resolution of the gipsy boy's manner, the gipsies started back a few paces, but still glared upon Sir Laurence Cleveland with the most threatening looks. Amanda and her child were almost overwhelmed with terror, and clung to Sir Laurence with the most intense emotion, making the air resound again with their piteous shiieks. Rosario still remained fixed in his position before the travellers, and the demeanour of the boy seemed for a minute or two even to awe the gipsies into forbearance. " Heartless men 1" exclaimed Sir Laurence, " I know not in what way I have in jured you ; why, then, should you seek to murder me in cold blood ?" " _jhe fourteenth of May, 1798, remember !" repeated two or three of the gipsies, and again they rushed towards the spot on which the travellers were standing.

"Hold! 'tis Madela commands. Back — back, I say!" cried a loud and almost unearthly female voice ; and the men shrank back, and returned their knives to their belts in submission. The travellers turned their eager eyes towards the spot whence this mandate pro ceeded, and beheld advancing towards them a form of the most singular and revolting description, which at length stood before them, and gloated upon them with looks of the most savage ferocity. The form was that of a female, although it was only the tattered and patchcovered dress she wore that denoted her to -be so. She was naturally tall and bony, but nearly bent double with age. Her skin was brown and shrivelled like that of a mummy, her features long and pointed ; her hair hung wild and matted over her forehead, and her small grey eyes glared like two balls of fire.

A short brown cloak depended from her shoulders, and one of her bony hands was extended in a menacing attitude towards Sir Laurence, while the other rested on a crooked-headed stick. In short, her whole appearance was anything but human, and Amanda and her child shuddered with indescribable horror as they gazed upon her. " Begone, boy !" commanded the old woman, in a harsh, discordant voice. " Madela," ejaculated the gipsy boy, in a supplicating tone. " Away, croaking brat ! " shouted the hag ; " away, or dread the consequence ! " As she spoke, she seized the boy fiercely by the arm, and forced him from the spot. He retired with slow and reluctant steps, but stood at some distance watching with eager eyes the conduct of Madela. The old woman now advanced still nearer to Sir Laurence and his trembling com panions, and glared upon him with an expression of almost demoniacal malice and exultation, which was sufficient to appal even the stoutest heart, under the peculiar and alarming circumstances.

" Laurence Cleveland," said the hag, " we have met at last. Madela has looked anxiously for this moment for many a long and weary day; but her abode has been in other lands. Welcome, Laurence Cleveland ; the gipsy queen greets ye." " Old woman," returned Sir Laurence, " how you are acquainted with my name I know not. You are a stranger to me ; what would you with me ?" "Oh, I have a long account to settle with you, Laurence Cleveland," said the old woman — " a long, a bloody account ; but not now. Madela deals not mercy with her vengeance. She has years of misery in store for you — years of torturing anguish, ere she will complete her triumph." " Woman, why these brutal threats?" demanded Sir Laurence, firmly ; " I never wilfully injured mortal being, and " " 'Tis false !" interrupted the ancient gipsy, her eyes flashing with tenfold fierce ness ; "Laurence Cleveland never injured mortal being; oh! the lie should blister Ms tongue.

Shall I repeat the tale of the two fair cousins, and will you then deny that you are a villain ? Laurence Cleveland, Madela knows you well. But I will not repeat the tale of the two cousins, one of them your lawful wife, the other " " Oh, forbear ! forbear !" ejaculated Sir Laurence, with convulsive emotion. " Forbear !" repeated the old woman; "oh! then I have touched your guilty conscience, have I, Laurence Cleveland ? But I have much, — much more to remind you of yet. On the fourteenth of May, 1798, two poor wretches, father and son, were ordered for death. You remember that, — you must, for you were one of the principal actors in the frightful, the barbarous tragedy." ■ " They were guilty of murder !" " 'Tis false! false as thine own black heart. They were accused of the murder of a gamekeeper, — your gamekeeper, Laurence Cleveland, and, on your evidence, were convicted.

But they were innocent, — innocent as the child that now stands by your side. They were, as I have before said, father and son ; the latter had been your rival in the affections of her you afterwards consigned to misery and death. He was then good and honest, but you destroyed his hopes, — left him to despair, and unable to attend to his work ; he became reduced to poverty. He had been the main support of his aged parents, your treachery made him a poacher, for he could not, and would not see his parents starve, whilst wealthy robbers bad rich preserves, fattening upon their oppressed tenants, for their mere amusement. What are the facts of the case? One of your gamekeepers, who had made himself generally obnoxious, was found assassinated on your estate ; on the same night, you were ieturning home from a visit you had been paying to one of your friends, when you saw two men retreating from the spot where the body of the murdered man was sound, whom you afterwards swore, positively, were the wretched fakher and his son, and, upon your evidence, Laurence Cleveland, they were condemned.

No doubt it was a feeling of revenge that goaded you on ; and you knew that you were uttering the most atiocious lies at the time you were giving your evidence." " By all my hopes," exclaimed the agitated Sir Laurence, " I did not. I really believed them guilty of the dreadful crime tbat was alleged against them, and I still think so now." " Liar!" shrieked Madela, and her frightful countenance became still more hide ously distorted with rage ; " they were innocent. They were far away from the spot at tlie time the murder was perpetrated, and there was sufficient evidence brought forward on the trial to preve that ; but still their inhuman persecutors were bent on theii destruction, and they were convicted." " Heaven pardon me if they were guiltless!" ejaculated Cleveland. "If they were guiltless !" repeated the old woman ; " dare you doubt it ?

No ; I see from your pale face, and quivering lips, that your conscience will not permit you to do so. Oh! Laurence Cleveland, Laurence Cleveland, you have a severe account to render for this !" " But they did not both die, they "No; they did not both perish; it is strange that the murderers should so far relent as to spare the boy! they transported him for Life, but they hung the poor, grey-headed, innocent old man like a dog. Laurence Cleveland, the blood of that murdered aged man is upon your head. For that deed you will be pursued to de struction. A curse, a terrible malediction is impending over ye, and, as sure as yon bright moon shall again illumine the heavens, it will be fulfilled." "Oh! spare him, ray good woman ; spare my brother!" implored Amanda, with looks of distraction. " Spare him, lady!" repeated Madela; "oh! it shall be my delight to wring his guilty heart, — to dash the cup of happiness from his lips, and to replace it with one of rankling poison.

I have much to do, — much to do ; ha ! ha ! ha! and all is ripe for the execution of my work." " For Heaven's sake, leave me, woman." " No, no ; not till I have told you all, Laurence Cleveland," returned Madela, with a frightful grin. " Hark ye ! the corpse of the murdered old man was stolen from the gibbet, and, while his bereaved widow gazed upon Ms ghastly face, distorted by the bloody work of the hangman, and the glazed eyes of her dead husband, protrud ing from their sockets, seemed to gaze upon her in approbation, she breathed a heavy, a dreadful cur6e on the head of Laurence Cleveland, and swore that she would hunt him through the world to destruction. And that curse shall spread like the night cloud over you and yours ! You may marry, — you may have fair, smiling babes, but the curse shall pursue them as well as you : she who breathed it over the corpse of ber murdered husband, will live to see it fulfilled.

Yes; she would travel many weary miles to hear the music of the rattling stones upon the aoffins of your children !" "Hold! hold! woman," groaned the distracted Sir Laurence; "I can endure no more." "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the frightful old woman; "then my words torture you ; you cannot despise them. Oh ! this is well, — this is well, — I triumph ! What ho!" Quick at the summons the gipsies approached, led on by Harold, and surrounded the alarmed Sir Laurence and his companions, forming a circle. " Unsheath you knives, on your knees, and swear revenge to the death against Laurence Cleveland!" fiercely demanded Madela. Quickly the men and women obeyed this order, but the gipsy boy stood erect amongst them, and gazed with an eye of pity at Sir Laurence and his sister. "On your knees, boy, and join in the oath of vengeance!" said the old woman.

"Oh! Madela, spare me !" supplicated the boy; "I dare not; my heart revolts at the horrible idea!" " Y'our heart revolts, brat, quivering worm ! Down, down !" " I will not swear revenge against one who never injured me !" exclaimed the gipsy boy, firmly. " Daring recreant!" cried the ruffian Harold, as he struck the poor boy a violent blow, that felled him to the earth. The gipsies then took the oath, crossing their knives, and the women giving utterance to an appalling shriek, that reverberated far around. They then arose from their knees, and some of them carried the insensible form of the gipsy boy to one of the carts, while the others continued to surround Sir Laurence and his companions. " Now, Laurence Cleveland," said Madela, " you have heard the oath plighted by the wandering tribe, and, mark me, it will not fail to be fulfilled.

Y'ou may seek to destroy us — to cast us into prison — but it will be all in vain; and woe to him who dares to attempt to injure one of the gipsy tribe. We will leave you now to your own pleasant reflections ; but we shall meet again ere long. In the meantime, remember the fatal day — remember the fourteenth of May, 1798, and tremble !* Thus saying, the hideous old hag shook her bony fist menacingly at Sir Laurence, and motioning to her companions, they moved away from the spot, and were soon hidden from the sight by a turning in the lane. What a state of mind was Sir Laurence now in ! All the painful occurrences of the past rushed upon his memory with vivid force, and it was in vain that he attempted to treat the threats of the gipsies with indifference, for he well knew their determined and revengeful disposition ; and after what had taken place, he felt that he had every reason to dread them.

The gipsy boy, too — he could not forget him ; THE GIPSY BOY. the beauty of his countenance, the manner in which he had interposed between him and the ruffians interested Mm in his favour ; and yet, by a strange anomaly, he could not think upon him without a sensation bordering upon fear. There were many events in the past life of Sir Laurence Cleveland, which he would have been glad to have had the power to recall, although in some of the most important particulars he could not consider himself altogether to blame. But his attention was diverted from these meditations to the condition of his sister, who had again become insensible ; and poor little Angela was so terrified, that he had the greatest difficulty imaginable to pacily her. At length Amanda recovered, and, looking around her, ejaculated, — " Where are they ?

Where are those terrible people, whose frightful trireats still ring in mine ears ?" " They are gone, dear Amanda," answered her brother. "Compose yourself; we have nothing more to fear from them." " Nothing more to fear from them, brother I" said Amanda. " Oh ! can I rest assured of that, after the observations of that fearful old woman ?" " They were the observations of a mad woman, Amanda. Heed them not." " But your face is pale, dear Laurence ; their threats have alarmed you, although you seek to persuade me to the contrary. That dreadful tale which the old woman told, say, is it not true ?" " It is," answered Sir Laurence; "but the men were guilty; I can entertain no doubt of it ; and surely they merited the punishment, terrible as it was, that they met with." " Would to Heaven that it had never happened !" said Amanda ; " for what fearful enemies has it created against you."

" I fear them not — indeed I do not, Amanda. I have the law on my side to pro tect me from danger." " Alas ! how can you guard yourself against wretches who have such secret ways of accomplishing their guilty designs ?" Sir Laurence returned no answer, and their thoughts then turned to their imme diate situation. "George cannot be long ere he returns," said Sir Laurence; "but to think of walking the remainder of the journey would be madness." "It is a most unfortunate accident," said Amanda; " but for that we might have been now at Branscombe House, and the terrors of this encounter would have been avoided." " True," said Sir Laurence; "but it cannot be helped; and we must endeaveur to banish the occurrences of this evening from our memory." But although Sir Laurence thus advised, he was far from being able to accomplish it himself.

The observations and threats of old Madela and the gipsy Harold had sunk deep into his heart, and filled his bosom with conflicting doubts and apprehensions. " That poor boy, too," observed Amanda; "I can never cease to remember him. How noble was his bearing, how handsome and intelligent his features ! Alas ! what a pity it is that one so young, and so well calculated to become an ornament to so ciety, should be placed in the power of such wretches." " It is," sighed Sir Laurence, as he recalled to his memory the melancholy and extraordinary story which the gipsy boy had told them. THE GIPSY BOY. The moon, which had all along shone forth so resplendently, now suddenly became obscured by clouds, and the wind began to murmur in fitful gusts among the foliage. " I fear we shall have a storm presently," said Amanda.

" I wish that Geoige would return." She had scarcely spoken, when the noise of carriage wheels was heard, and pre sently afterwards she perceived the servant approaching along the lane, with a post chaise which he had hired at the inn. He had also brought with him two men to repair his master's carriage. " Did you encounter anything particular on your return?" inquired Sir Laurence. The man answered in the negative, and Sir Laurence having ordered the other postilion to follow with the carriage as soon as it was repaired, assisted his sister and niece into the post-chaise, and following himself, if was driven off as quickly as pos sible towards the place of their destination. It was in vain that Sir Laurence tried to rally his spirits during the remainder of the journey ; th|e extraordinary and alarming events of the evening occupied his whole thoughts, and he became melancholy and abstracted from everything else.

At length they arrived at Branscombe House, the family seat of Sir Laurence Cleveland, and after partaking of a hasty repast, both not being in the humour to converse, they retired to their chambers. Sir Laurence sat for some time in gloomy meditation upon the adventures of the evening before he sought his couch, and it was then with a mind but ill at ease.

Chapter III. Family Particulars

— THE NUPTIALS. — THE INTERRUPTION. — THE ACCUSATION. Branscombe House was an elegant modern structure, which had been erected by the father of the present Sir Laurence Cleveland. It stood in one of the most lively parts of the county, remarkable for the diversified character of its scenery, and formed a principal object of attraction in that part of the kingdom. The numberless small cottages that were besprinkled in the vicinity of the mansion bespoke the hospitality of its lord ; the happiness and good fellowship of the rustics conferred a degree of lustre on his name that idle ostentation might have blushed to behold, and was pregnant with that tranquillity of mind which is rarely sound in the palaces of the most splendid cities. The parents of Sir Laurence had been dead for many years at the time this narrative commences, leaving him and a daughter, the fair Amanda, we have already in troduced to the reader, and who a short time afteiwards had married an officer in the navy, who had been slain about twelvemonths before in an engagement with the enemy.

Amanda was for some time inconsolable at this melancholy bereavement, and, therefore, Sir Laurence offered her an asylum in his house, which she gladly ac cepted, and it was in conveying her and the little Angela to his mansion that they met with the extraordinary and alarming adventure which has been detailed in the previous chapters. Sir Laurence Cleveland was an extremely handsome man, and his mind was a rich mine of knowledge and elegant acquirements. His character will be more fully de veloped in the course of our tale; it may be sufficient to state that it was a strange combination of contradictions — of virtues and errors — that clashed with each other, and gave birth to the many misfortunes which attended his life. He was generous and hospitable, almost to a fault; but his passions were powerful, and frequently gained a greater ascendancy over him than he could control.

It was well known that Sir Laurence had been onee privately married, to a female of the most surpassing loveliness, but in an inferior station of life; but it would seem that the marriage was an unfortunate one. She suddenly eloped, and it was not known what had become of her, until there was an announcement of her death in the newspapers, and that circumstance appeared to have a melancholy effect for some time upon his mind ; but it would mar the interest of our narrative to explain further at present. After this occurrence, Sir Laurence travelled for two or three years on th« continent, where he was introduced to an English gentleman, a widower, and the charms and numerous accomplishments of whose only daughter immediately made a powerful and lasting impression upon his heart, and he paid her the most marked attention, and seon had the gratification to find that his passion was returned.

Blanche Lester was, indeed, a damsel formed for universal love and admiration — fair, accomplished, and amiable ; no wonder that she should take such an immediate hold upon the affections of the susceptible and gallant Sir Laurence Cleveland. He loved her with a feeling as pure as it was intense ; and Blanche did not hesitate to acknowledge that the sentiments he had inspired her with were as fervent as his own. Mr. Lester entertained the highest opinion of the character of Sir Laurence, and he, therefore, gave every encouragement to his addresses, confident in his own mind that they were formed to make each other happy. Alas ! little could he foresee the many severe misfortunes which were destined to follow their union, or how strenu ously would he have endeavoured to nip their passion in the bud.

The happiness of the lovers was now complete, and they looked forward to the future with the most blissful anticipations. Tired of the continent, they returned to England together, and where, upon their arrival, every arrangement was made, and the day appointed for their nuptials to take place. The fair Blanche and her father looked forward to the happy day with the most sanguine anticipations ; for what but happiness, they imagined, could spring from the union of two persons whose dispositions^were so much alike? Little did they expect the events which were destined to take place, and which would so cruelly blight the hopes which they had formed ; little did they imagine that anything but feelings of the most honourable description, could ever find a place in the bosom of Sir Laurence, or that he could ever have been guilty of a single act which he should feel ashamed to have revealed to the world.

But, unfortunately, as we have before intimated, there were many circumstances in the early part of the life of Sir Lau rence Cleveland, which he had bitter cause to regret, and which caused him many hours of uneasiness and painful reflection. That he loved the beauteous Blanohe Lester with a sentiment of the greatest purity, cannot be denied, bnt there were moments when other forms would arise to his imagination, and in such moments he could not but feel himself unworthy of her, and almost trembled in her presence. The note of preparation for the union now resounded throughout the wide domain of Sir Laurence Cleveland, as it was determined to celebrate that auspicious event in a style of the most extraordinary magnificence ; but, in the interval, Sir Laurence and Blanche experienced a temporary separation, as it was his particular wish that his sister should be present on the occasion, and Blanche was anxious to be introduced to that amiable lady to whom she was about to become so closely allied.

What tool place on that eventful journey has been already related. Sir Laurence passed a most wretclel night, for .his mind was tormented with racking thoughts, retrospections, and fearful anticipations, and the wild and savage threats of old Madela and the ruffian Harold, in spite of all his efforts to the con trary, inspired him with apprehensions of the most powerful description. The image of the gipsy boy was also constantly present to his imagination, and the more he reflected upon his strange conduct, the farther he became involved in perplexity. By the morning, however, he became more tranquil, and met his sister with an No. 4. unruffled brow. He evinced by his demeanour that he was anxious that no allusion should be made to the gipsies, and she forbore to do so, as she saw that it caused Mm pain ; but she had her own thoughts upon the subject, and she felt extreme anxiety for the safety of her brother, after the threats of vengeance which had been uttered by Madela and the gipsy Harold.

She had heard much of the desperate character of the wandering tribe when their evil passions were excited, and of their secret means of carrying their designs into effect, which it might be difficult to frustrate; and it was evident that they viewed Sir Laurence as an enemy who had done them, or those connected with them, some real or imagined injury, and therefore she saw plainly that there was too much reason to fear them. Rosario had created the deepest interest in her bosom, and she could not hut think of him with astonishment, sympathy, and admiration. She longed to behold him again, and, if possible, to elicit something more of his history. We will pass over the introduction of Amanda to Blanche Lester and her father ; suffice it to say, that the amiable females were immediately prepossessed in each others favour, and Amanda could not but anticipate every felicity to her brother in a union with one who was so every way worthy of him.

Several days passed away, and nothing more was heard of the gipsies, and Sir Laurence had regained his usual tranquillity ; his whole thoughts being occupied with the expected happiness that was in store for him. And now the auspicious morning arrived, and was ushered in with every demonstration of joy. Branscombe House had seldom or never before presented so animated an appearance. The elite of elegance and fashion thronged its noble halls, the villagers for miles around had been invited to partake of the hospitalities and festivities of the happy day, and every countenance evinced the pleasure that occupied the breast. It was, in fact, a complete holiday, and nought but the sounds of exuberant but harmless mirth could be heard on every side. The spacious gardens of the mansion were crowded with delighted rustics, and a triumphant arch occupied the space from the house to the sacred edifice where the nuptial ceremony was to be solemnized, and around the doors of which anxious crowds were waiting at an early hour, eager to catch a glance of the beauteous bride and her friends, and to give vent to their enthusiasm on the occasion.

In different parts of the neighbourhood bands of music sent forth their joyous strains, and all was hilarity, harmony, and sanguine anticipation. The hour approached, and the bridal procession wa3 seen wending its course to the church amid the rapturous shouts of the assembled multitude. How transcen dency lovely appeared Blanche Lester on that auspicious occasion ; and yet she looked at times very pale, and a trembling sensation came over her, which might reasonably be attributed to maiden timidity, and the important change which she was about to undergo. The bridegroom looked contented, but serious, and notwithstanding all his endeavours to banish it, he could not help feeling a sensation of melancholy foreboding, which seemed most unaccountable on an event so important to his future happiness.

Just before the procession reached the church the eye of Sir Laurence suddenly rested upon the forbidding countenance of a man, whom he thought he had seen before, and he involuntarily started ; but the man was lost in an instant among the crowd, and the bridal procession entered the sacred edifice. And now the bride and bridegroom kneel before the altar, the sacred and solemn rites commence, and all is breathless attention. It proceeds ; the final benediction is pronounced, the organ sends forth its lofty peal, and its impressive tones are responded to by the simultaneous blessings of the numerous persons assembled; when suddenly between the pauses everyone was startled with loud shouts of rude laughter, which seemed to proceed from several voices, and completely shook the roof of the holy building.