"You must be prepared for a disappointment, my dear sir. I fear that the former inhabitants of the place have left it. We may, however, be able to learn where they have gone."

The ground was now sufficiently hard to enable them to gallop on. On reaching the front door he threw himself from his horse and struck loudly against it. A hollow sound was the only answer returned. He lifted the latch, for the door was unlocked. He gazed round the room where the dame and Elizabeth had been accustomed to sit, after the chief labours of the day were over, with their distaffs or spinning-wheels-- that very room where he had last parted from the young girl! The lighter articles of value had been removed, though the heavy pieces of furniture still remained in their places, thickly covered with dust. It was evident that for many months no one had entered the house. Green mildew was on the walls. The very floors were covered with damp.

Poor Monsieur de Mertens sank down on a seat, overcome by the bitter disappointment which he experienced. Jack endeavoured to re-a.s.sure him, by telling him that he knew several persons in the neighbourhood, and that he should probably be able to ascertain from them where Master Pearson and his family had gone. Before leaving the house, however, he would go over every part of it, to try and discover any thing which might give them the desired information.

The examination of the house was a very melancholy one, for not a sign could he discover to afford the wished-for clue. One of the rooms was locked. He hesitated about attempting to break it open. At length, on searching around, he found a bunch of keys. They had evidently been dropped by accident, and unintentionally left behind. Among them he discovered the key which opened the door of the closed room. He at first almost dreaded to enter, though he could scarcely tell why. At length he mustered courage. He breathed more freely when he found that the room was simply filled with bedding and bed-clothes and household implements. They had been placed there probably for the purpose of being afterwards sent for and brought away, and if such was the intention of the occupants of the house it had by some reason been frustrated. There were many signs, however, of a hasty departure, though why Master Pearson had suddenly gone away with his wife and reputed daughter Jack could not determine.

He feared, however, from the contents of the room which he had examined, that they must have gone to some distance, or otherwise these articles would probably have been sent for and brought away. Not a particle of food was to be found in the house, and it was therefore impossible for them to remain for the night, and Jack believed that there was time to return to the nearest village where accommodation could be obtained. He there also hoped to gain some information regarding Master Pearson's movements.

With heavy hearts the two hors.e.m.e.n mounted their steeds and took their way across the marsh. Night however closed in upon them before they were clear of it. At length a light appeared before them. It seemed to come from a cottage window close down to the ground. Jack was on the point of riding towards it, when he knew by the hesitation shown by his horse that he was approaching treacherous ground. At that instant the light vanished--again to appear, however, at a little distance farther off.

"Ah, how foolish I was to be tempted by such a 'will o' the wisp' as that!" he exclaimed. "We must keep away, my dear sir, to the left, and I hope ere long that we shall escape from this treacherous neighbourhood." He had been through a good many trying scenes, but he had never felt more perplexed than he did at this moment. He was grieved too, and sick at heart. Somewhat surprised also, perhaps, to find how much he felt the absence of Elizabeth, though he soon persuaded himself that it was more on his friend's account than his own. After riding some way, Jack did what under such circ.u.mstances is the only course to pursue. Going first himself, he allowed his horse to follow the path which his own instinct dictated; and by so doing, in the course of an hour the hoofs of his animal once more trod hard ground. In a short time afterwards a twinkling light appeared, far brighter, however, than the "will o' the wisp" which had before deceived them, and they rode up to the very inn which Jack had hoped to reach. The landlord was well pleased to see two well-equipped cavaliers arrive at his humble hostel, and under took to supply them with every thing they required.

Jack's first inquiry, however, after Master Pearson, made him look more suspiciously at them.

"Master Pearson?" he said, "the farmer who lived out there in the fens?

Ah, curious things have been told about him since he went away. I cannot exactly make out what to say about it."

"But where has he gone?" asked Jack eagerly; "can you tell me that?"

"No; nor no one either, master," he answered. "It's the better part of six months gone, when Bill Green, who was riding across the fen, made his way to the farm and found not a human soul there. Why they had gone, or how they had gone, or where they had gone, no one from that day to this can tell. The only thing we know is, that they did not come by this road, and so it is supposed that they made for the sea-coast.

There was Master Pearson, and Mistress Pearson, who all said was a very good woman, and their young daughter; but not a servant or a follower of any sort did they take with them, that we know of. None of the farm-servants belonged to this part of the country, and they had all gone away some time before. Altogether the matter was a mystery, and is a mystery still to my belief."

This information given by Master Bowleggs, the landlord of the Goose and Goslings, was very unsatisfactory to Jack and his friend. They feared from the circ.u.mstantial way in which it was given them that it was too likely to be true. Jack had therefore great difficulty in keeping up the spirits of his companion. He undertook to make further inquiries in the neighbourhood, and to devote himself to the search for Elizabeth.

Leaving the anxious father at the little inn, Jack the next day rode off to call on the different people with whom he had been acquainted during his stay at the farm. Several days were employed in this manner, but none of those on whom he called could give him the slightest information. They all believed that Master Pearson had left the country, and some supposed that he had gone to one of the plantations in America, but that was only a surmise, as he had for some reason or other left no trace of the direction he had taken. Very unwillingly, therefore, Jack and his companion returned to Norwich.

Poor Madame de Mertens suffered greatly from the disappointment she felt at the account which her husband and John Deane brought. Her kind friends, however, entreated her to keep up her spirits, pointing out to her how thankful she should be at having her husband restored to her, and that the same kind Providence which had given her that blessing might yet further increase it by sending back to her her long-lost daughter.

Jack's mission at Norwich having been accomplished, though not in the satisfactory way he had hoped, he set forward to Nottingham. The greater part of his journey was speedily accomplished, and wishing to learn how matters were going on in that town, and also to arrive at home at an early hour of the day, he put up at his old friend the miller's, where he had stopped on his last visit to Harwood Grange. He had some difficulty in making the miller believe who he was, for from his dress and the arms he carried, the good man at first took him to be a highwayman, and even his dame would not believe for some time that he was the same lad she had known but a few years back. As far as he could learn, all his family at home were well, though the miller told him of the death of several people he knew. He inquired, not without some hesitation, about Harwood Grange and its owner.

"Ah! the Squire. He had to go abroad some years ago, about the matter, it was supposed, of Sir John Fenwick, whose head was cut off, you mind.

Well, the poor gentleman never came back again, and it is believed that he took on so, about leaving his native land and horses and hounds, that he at last died. Certain it is that his daughter came into the property, and is now mistress of the Grange. Not that she lives there though, for I heard that she was going to marry some young gentleman in Nottingham, and she has taken up her abode there. Well, it is as well that she should give the Grange a master, for it is a pretty property, and it requires a gentleman to look after it."

This news was not over pleasant to Jack. He was sorry, certainly, to hear of the death of Mr Harwood, but the account of Alethea's intended marriage made his heart sink somewhat lower than it had ever sunk before. His only hope was that the miller's story might not be true.

He could not believe that all his bright dreams should prove to be cruel unrealities just as he was returning home. He therefore answered the miller with as indifferent an air as he could, but the effort was somewhat vain, and the good dame, observing that he must be tired after his long journey, recommended him as soon as supper was over to seek his bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

RETURNS HOME.

Next morning John Deane set out to Nottingham, mounted on his strong horse, with a hanger slung to a sash over his shoulder, a laced coat, having an undoubted nautical cut about it, with a c.o.c.ked hat, his waistcoat with long flaps, also richly embroidered. Altogether, with his hat c.o.c.ked rakishly on one side, though he was unaware of the fact, he presented a gallant and bold appearance. He was just crossing the bridge over the Trent, into the town, when he saw a party of ladies and gentlemen on horseback approaching him. First came a gentleman in a laced riding-suit, wearing a fair peruke with a buckle, as the mode then was, engaged in low conversation with a young lady in a cherry-coloured riding-habit, her long hair hanging in loose curls over her shoulders.

In the first he recognised his brother Jasper, and in the lady, the fair Alethea. She glanced slightly at Jack's bronzed countenance, surrounded by a bushy beard and whiskers, and well-knit figure. He drew his horse on one side to let the party pa.s.s. But though she looked up a second time, she evidently did not recognise him, nor did his brother.

Following them came another young gentleman with his merry sister Polly by his side. She was laughing loudly, as was her wont, either at her own jokes or at something her companion had said. Jack fully thought that she at all events would find him out, but she was possibly too much engaged in her own pleasant thoughts to do so, for though she gave a look at the naval gallant whom she was pa.s.sing, she took no further notice of him.

"I won't stop them," thought Jack, "but go home and have a talk with father and mother first; and if Jasper is the gentleman who it is said is going to marry Alethea, the sooner I'm off to sea again the better!

It looked something like it, for it's certain he never used to dress so bravely; and, by the way he was looking at her, I cannot help thinking it's too true. Well, I wish him every happiness. There's no use repining; and I don't see how I could have expected it to be otherwise.

Of course he would fall in love with her; and she certainly never gave me any reason to suppose that she cared especially for me."

Such were the thoughts which occupied his mind as he rode up to the well-known door of his father's house in the market-place. The servant who opened the door bowed respectfully to the gallant stranger who was inquiring for Mistress Deane, and Jack had actually entered the parlour, where his mother was sitting with her knitting in hand, and been desired to take a seat, when he wonderfully astonished the old lady by springing up and throwing his arms round her neck. She knew him then well enough; and after giving him a maternal embrace in return, holding him by both hands, she looked again and again into his honest countenance, as if to trace his well-known features.

"Yes, Jack," she exclaimed, "you are my boy! I would not believe any one who told me otherwise, though the sun and the sea air have given you a more brazen face than I ever expected you would wear, and you have grown into a big, st.u.r.dy young man, well able to fight the king's enemies."

Old Mr Deane soon afterwards entered, hearing that a stranger had been inquiring for him. He confessed that if Mistress Deane had not been there to swear to him he should scarcely have known his own son.

Jack did not allow any thoughts which would mar his happiness to intrude while he sat between his kind parents, each of them holding one of his hands in theirs, while he gave them an account of his various proceedings since he had last written, among which he described his rescue of the Dutch gentleman, and his visit to Mr Gournay. His mother told him of Mr Harwood's supposed death abroad.

"Yes, dame. It was not so unfortunate, however," observed Mr Deane; "the poor gentleman was so deeply implicated in the Jacobite plots, that he would have lost his property if he had come back; but through the interest of many friends, and I may say I was one of them, we contrived to preserve his estates for Alethea. Poor man! his last days were very sad. He went to James's court at Saint Germain's, where he expected to be received with respect, as having suffered in the cause of the king.

He wrote me an account of his visit. The palace in which James resided was magnificent. A handsome pension was allowed him by the French king, and he had guards, and a large establishment of hounds and huntsmen, and every means of amusing himself. He was, however, surrounded by ecclesiastics who ruled every thing, including the king himself.

Nothing indeed could be more dull than the life spent by the courtiers, their sole employment appearing to be backbiting each other. Mr Harwood soon found also that he himself had committed a great crime in the eyes of those by whom he was surrounded. He was a Protestant. He, with all the other Protestant Jacobites who appeared at the court, were treated with the greatest indignity by the Roman Catholics. In every instance the Roman Catholic was preferred to the Protestant, and in every quarrel the Roman Catholic was supposed to be right. Several Protestant clergy who had given up their livings, and sacrificed every thing in the cause of James, were grossly insulted by the Romish priests. When they requested to be allowed to hold a service for their Protestant countrymen, their prayers were refused. The Protestant ministers were kept away from the death-beds of the Protestants, who were allowed to be beset by the Romish priests; these men endeavouring by all the arts they possessed, and often by force, to win them over to their church. Several Royalists, indeed, who died, were denied a Christian burial, and were thrown into holes dug in the fields at the dead of night, without any form or ceremony. The unfortunate Earl of Dunfermline, who had lost every thing for James, and had fought bravely for him at the battle of Killiecrankie, was treated in this way. While alive, he had been grossly insulted on several occasions. A number of Scotch officers who had served under him, requested that they might be formed into a company, and that he might be placed at their head; but this was refused on the plea that he was a Protestant, and therefore unfit to command men serving a Catholic prince. Those only who at the last gasp, scarcely conscious what was being done, were turned into Catholics, by having the consecrated wafer thrust into their mouths, were buried with all the pomp of the Romish Church. Poor Mr Harwood expressed his fears that he should be treated in the same way. He died at last of a broken heart, though he was able a short time before his death to remove from the court. His account shows us how James would have acted had he recovered the English throne, and we may be truly thankful to heaven that he was prevented from obtaining his wishes."

Mrs Deane and Jack heartily responded to this sentiment.

"You know Alethea, Jack? a pretty, sweet girl she is, I can a.s.sure you; though you saw so little of her, that you might not have discovered her good qualities," continued the old gentleman.

Jack's heart sank somewhat. He expected to hear his father give an account of the intended marriage of Alethea to Jasper. The old gentleman went on for some time enlarging on her beauty and accomplishments, and other attractive qualities.

"Your father means to say, Jack, that it has not been her fortune which has captivated your brother Jasper, for you must know that he has won her heart, and in the course of another week is to possess her hand.

You have just come in time for the wedding. I am sure it will be a great pleasure to you to see Jasper made happy, as it adds greatly to our pleasure to have you back again amongst us."

Poor Jack's heart sank down to zero. His worst antic.i.p.ations were thus realised. For some moments his head was in a whirl, and he knew not what to say. He speedily, however, recovered himself.

"I am thankful to hear of Jasper's expected happiness," he forced himself to say at last. He said it sincerely in one sense, for he loved his brother, and he felt that if Alethea was not to be his, he was glad that she should become Jasper's wife.

The time pa.s.sed so rapidly, that he was surprised when at length the riding-party returned just in time to get ready for dinner. His brother and sister were truly glad to see him. Alethea received him with some little embarra.s.sment, not that she was conscious of having given him any encouragement; but she recollected how she had endeavoured to draw him into the Jacobite plot, and she fancied that she was the princ.i.p.al cause of separating him from his family and sending him away to sea. Polly and her intended husband, who was something in her own style, soon, by the racket they made, and the shouts of laughter in which they indulged, drove away any thing like sentiment, and set every body at their ease.

Kind cousin Nat shortly made his appearance, and holding Jack at arm's length, scanned him all over.

"I was not quite certain when I first saw you whether you were a buccaneer from the Spanish Main, or some other cavalier of fortune; but I now see that you are my own honest, good Jack, in spite of your somewhat ferocious appearance!" he exclaimed, shaking him by both hands.

"You should get yourself, however, trimmed and docked, Jack, and you will be much more presentable in polite society."

Jack had not come without a few curiosities and trinkets which had been collected on board the prizes, or taken on sh.o.r.e. He was thus able to bestow some acceptable presents upon the intended brides.

Again the old house in the market-place was the scene of festivity. Two couples were to pledge their faith to each other, and guests from far and near a.s.sembled to do honour to the occasion. Jack wrung Jasper's hand.

"I wish you every happiness the world can give you!" he exclaimed, though as he spoke his voice trembled and the tears stood in his eyes.

Alethea looked more beautiful and attractive than she had ever done before, and Polly was more merry and full of life, not a bit abashed by the ceremony through which she then had to go. Jack performed his part well throughout the whole of it, and in the evening no one danced more lightly and merrily, or laughed louder than did he. At supper he sang some of his best sea-songs; and every one declared that Jack Deane was one of the finest young fellows who had appeared at Nottingham for many a long day.

Nottingham at that time could boast of some of the most agreeable society to be met out of London. It had been a.s.signed as the residence of Marshall Tallard, the opponent of the great Duke of Marlborough at the battle of Blenheim, who was now a prisoner of war with a number of other gallant and polished French officers, who bore their captivity with resignation and cheerfulness, making themselves perfectly at home, and doing their best to amuse those among whom they lived.

Several curious traditions of their stay in the town still linger there.

It was a French prisoner who first observed celery growing wild on the rock on which Nottingham Castle stands, Alainon Franchise, and having cultivated it successfully in his own little garden, he made that pleasant addition to English tables, from that time forth common every where throughout the kingdom. French rolls were also introduced from a receipt sent by the Marshall himself to a baker in Bridlesmith-gate.

It had been arranged that cousin Nat should reside with Jasper Deane, to whom he purposed giving up his practice when he should retire, which he expected to do in the course of a few years.

Jack was received in a friendly way wherever he went. The errors and wild pranks of the boy were entirely forgotten, when it was known that he had been fighting bravely for his king and country, and that he had by his own good conduct gained the rank he already held in the navy.