The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn: A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot

"What?" he gasped; "is that what it means? Is that the hideous deed to be done? Great Heavens protect us from such men, if it has come to that!

"How knowest thou this thing?" he added, turning almost fiercely upon the old woman, who was still regarding him steadily. "If it be as thou sayest, sure such a fearful secret would be held sacred from all."

Esther smiled her strange smile.

"Secrets known to many have a wondrous fashion of leaking out. And, moreover, the wise woman has means thou knowest naught of for learning the things concealed from the world. Cuthbert Trevlyn, look back, search thy memory, and thou wilt surely know that I have spoken naught but the truth. If thou art not one of them, thou knowest their dark secrets; thou canst not deny it!"

Again he recoiled from her.

"I know their secrets! I one of them! Woman, dost thou believe this vile thing of me?

"No, I believe it not. I know that thou hast but let thyself be led into dire peril through that foolish, generous weakness of youth and thy Trevlyn blood, against which I have warned thee-and warned thee in vain. But dost thou think thou canst despise the warnings of the wise woman and escape deadly peril? Cuthbert Trevlyn, listen to me and heed me well. This thing is known-is known in high places. The King and his counsellors have had intelligence thereof. The deed of darkness will be frustrated, and heads will fall beneath the axe of the executioner. Already whispers are going abroad-already the guilty ones are watched and spied upon; and with the guilty there are those suspected who know naught of this vile deed. Shall I say more, or can thine own quick wits supply the rest?"

Cuthbert had turned a little pale. His eyes were fixed upon this woman's face.

"Tell me all," he said hoarsely. "What dost thou mean by these dark sayings?"

"I mean," she answered, in clear low tones, "that there is peril for Trevlyn in this thing. Thine own rashness, Miriam's spite and quickness of wit to avail herself of every trifling matter that passes, the presence in London of Sir Richard and his son at this time, the old tradition surrounding the name of Trevlyn-all are helping on the work; all are pointing in one direction. Rash boy, thou hast been seen with Father Urban in the streets-a Jesuit, a seminary priest, a man suspected of many plots and many daring acts of courage and cunning. Thou art suspected to have been concerned in his escape one dark and foggy night, when thou wert on the river in thy wherry; and he must have been taken on board some such craft. Thou hast been seen with others who are suspected of being mixed up in this business. Thou hast appeared within the city walls when they appeared; when they were absent thou wast absent likewise. Thou wouldst not heed warnings when yet there was time; thou must now take double heed to thy steps-"

"Thou spokest of Sir Richard and his son but now," cried Cuthbert, interrupting hastily. "For myself, I must take the consequences of my rashness. The fault is mine, and if harm comes to me I can bear it; but if others have been imperilled through me, I should never forgive myself. Tell me plainly if this has been so; keep me not in suspense! How can one word be breathed against the loyalty of a man faithful and true as Sir Richard, and a stanch Protestant to boot?"

The old woman shook her head meaningly.

"A man's character and reputation and life may too easily be whispered away in these evil times. But listen to me, Cuthbert Trevlyn, and all may yet be well. Thou hast been noted, spied upon, observed. There be those who have seen thee in strange places and strange company, and it behoves thee to look well to thyself. But for thy kinsmen, methinks that no whisper regarding them has as yet reached high quarters. As thou sayest, Sir Richard's loyalty is known, and men will not easily believe such ill of him. Yet he were best to be gone. Miriam is at work. Miriam has tools that even I wot not of, and she hates the head of Trevlyn's house with a bitter and undying hatred. Let but this thing be known-as known it will be to all the world in a few more days-and she will leave no stone unturned to overwhelm him in the ruin that must then fall upon so many. Vengeance such as that would be dear to her heart. She would weave her web right skilfully to entrap his unsuspecting steps. Wherefore let him begone-let all who bear the name of Trevlyn begone, and that right speedily. Flight will not be thought flight now; for this thing is as yet a profound secret, and thou must not breathe a word that I have spoken to thee abroad, else thou mayest do harm of which thou little reckest. Let him go speedily; and go thou likewise, and do not tarry. If thou wouldst undo the harm thy rashness has well-nigh brought to thy kinsfolk, carry them this warning, and make them listen."

"That will I do right speedily," answered Cuthbert, whose heart was beating high with excitement and agitation. "Did harm befall them through deed of mine, I should never forgive myself."

"Go then," answered Esther; "go, and be thou cautious and wary. Remember thou hast many foes, and that the hour of peril darkens over this land. Strange things will be heard and seen ere many days have passed. Take heed that thou be far away from hence ere the day of reckoning comes. Take heed that Miriam's vow of vengeance be not accomplished, and that the house of Trevlyn be drawn into the vortex!"

Cuthbert descended the stairs with uncertain steps, his mind in a whirl of conflicting feelings. He believed that Esther was sincere in her desire for the welfare of the house of Trevlyn. He trusted her, and he saw that she had in some way or another become possessed of information concerning himself of a very particular and intimate kind. This being so, it was easy to believe that she had discovered other matters of hidden import; and he was quite disposed to give her credit for dealings in magic and charms which should show her the things that were to be.

The horror of the knowledge of this plot was upon him as he went forth into the streets and felt the keen air and the cold rain dashing in his face. He could not doubt the truth of Esther's words. All he had seen and heard tallied too well with it to leave in his mind any room for doubt. A plot of some sort he had always suspected-he would have been foolish indeed to have come to any other conclusion; but a plot of such malignity and such diabolical scope would never have presented itself to his mind. He found it hard to believe that such a terrible thing could be menaced against the King and the nobles of the land, many amongst whom must surely be of the same faith as those conspirators who were plotting in the dark.

And then the peril that menaced the Trevlyns-what of that? Cuthbert remembered the looks bent upon him a few days back by the men-at-arms in the Parliament House. He remembered the light of the sentry flashing in his face as he turned away from the door in at which the tall man they called Guido Fawkes had vanished but a few moments before. He knew that he had been observed more than once with some attention as he had stepped on board his wherry, or had brought it up to the mooring place. Could it be that he was really watched and suspected? It seemed like it, indeed. And what was more serious still, his kinsmen were like to fall under suspicion through his rash disregard of warnings.

For himself Cuthbert cared comparatively little-perhaps rather too little-for he possessed a strong dash of his father's stubbornness of disposition; and in him the Trevlyn courage was intermingled with a good deal of absolute rashness and hardihood; but the thought that Sir Richard and his family should suffer for his sake was intolerable. That must at all cost be prevented. Surely he could warn them and avert the danger.

As the youth walked rapidly westward through the miry streets, he was revolving the situation rapidly in his mind, and at last he reached a conclusion which he muttered aloud as he went.

"That will be the best: I will to mine uncle and Philip and tell them that. It will make them hasten away at once; but I will not go with them. If I am suspected I must not be seen with them, nor seem to have dealings with them. If they leave town and I remain, none will suspect that I have warned them and sent them forth. To fly with them would at once raise such thoughts. Here must I remain, and let myself be seen abroad, so will they the better escape Miriam's evil intent. Sir Richard has friends at Court. Lord Andover and others will speak for him if need be. I doubt me much, he being quietly gone, whether any will dare to strive to bring his name into disgrace. There be those to find who are the guilty ones. Sure they may let the innocent go free. As for me, I will not flee. I would fain see the end of this matter. And perchance I might even warn Master Robert Catesby of the peril that hangs over his head. Strange how so gentle and courteous a gentleman can sell himself to a work of such devilish wickedness!"

Divided betwixt horror of the deed and pity for the conspirators who had been practically discovered and frustrated in their evil work, and who had doubtless persuaded themselves and been persuaded by their ghostly advisers that it was an act of virtue and justice and right, Cuthbert walked on, wondering more and more at the strange vagaries of human conscience, and at the extraordinary self delusion possible to the sons of the Romish faction.

It was long since he had decided definitely and of resolute conviction to cast in his lot with those who held the Reformed faith; but had he ever had any secret doubts and leanings towards the faith in which he had been reared, the revelations of that night would have proved enough for him. He knew-none better-that this diabolic deed was planned and executed with the full consent, approbation, and blessing of the Romanist priests, and might even be known to the Pope himself. Sorrowful and indignant as Cuthbert had often been for the persecuted Romanists, and keenly as his sympathies would have been stirred had they risen in man-like fashion to claim liberty of conscience and fight boldly for the cause in which their hearts were bound up, he could regard a plot like this with nothing but loathing and horror. He wondered that men could be found willing to sell themselves to such iniquity. Yet he knew, from what he had himself seen, that these were no mere hirelings bought over with money to do this thing, but that they were gentlemen, most of them of noble birth and large means, all of them actuated by motives of devotion and religious enthusiasm; and that they did not prize their own lives or regard them as in any way precious, but would gladly offer them up so that this thing might be accomplished.

Well, it was a mystery, and one that he could not fathom. He could only feel thankful that no compulsion lay upon him to make known what he had seen and heard. His word had been pledged to Catesby and Father Urban, and how to have broken it he knew not. But there was no call for him even to think of this. It was not he who had discovered this strange plot. The knowledge of it was already with the King and his ministers. The conspirators themselves were half aware of this; Cuthbert well remembered the words of fear concerning some letter spoken in the lonely garden at Lambeth but a couple of days back.

How dared they, knowing so much, pursue their dark scheme? The youth shuddered as he marvelled at them. Did they believe themselves yet secure? What a fearful thing security such as that might become! Cuthbert longed to warn them, yet feared to intermeddle further in such a matter. And at least his first business lay in the warning he must instantly convey to Sir Richard, and that without revealing more of the truth than was absolutely necessary. Cuthbert was worldly wise enough to be well aware that the greatest protection his kinsmen could have against suspicion was absolute ignorance of the matter of which they stood suspected.

Sir Richard was absent when Cuthbert asked for him, but his son was at home, and the visitor was ushered into a room where Philip and Culverhouse were sitting together conversing by the glow of a bright fire of sea coal.

He was made very welcome by his cousin, and quickly plunged into the matter in hand.

"Philip," he said, "I have come to ask whether the business that has brought you to town is yet accomplished."

"Yes, verily," answered Philip, surprised. "We came to talk of Kate's rash marriage with Culverhouse there, and if it was such as might safely be ignored. My Lord and Lady of Andover, however, had adjudged that their son is too far pledged to draw back, and that for the sake of the lady's honour and happiness they must be held to be solemnly betrothed. Their punishment will be the long waiting ere they may truly wed; but Culverhouse means to tell all his tale in the ears of the Prince of Wales, and he holds that the kindly youth will doubtless give him some post about his royal person that may be a stepping stone to further wealth and advancement."

"My Lord Culverhouse need scarce do that," said Cuthbert, speaking in short, abrupt sentences. "Let me tell my news in a few words. The lost treasure of Trevlyn is found. It is hidden in the Cross Way House, where Mistress Kate and my sister Petronella are at this moment sheltering. It was thought the safest spot, for that the gipsies and the robbers of the road alike think kindly of the ladies of the Wyvern family, and hold their abode sacred-"

Cuthbert was at this moment arrested by a storm of questions and eager exclamations, which he had some small trouble in answering or setting aside. When he had so far satisfied his eager listeners as to be able to take up the thread of what he was saying, he went on in the same quick, abrupt fashion as before.

"I thought the treasure safe when I hid it there; but I have had a warning this night from one who knows well the temper of the gipsy folk. I hear that suspicion has been aroused in the tribe-that there is a resolve abroad to win it back. There is a man called Tyrrel, a notable highway robber, who has vowed to regain it for himself and his men. If this be so, I fear me that even the sanctuary of the Wyvern House will not suffice. In that house there are but women and a few old men-servants, little able to withstand a concerted attack. I have heard this news but tonight, and I have come straight on to tell thee, Philip. If your business in London be done, why shouldst not thou and thy father return forthwith home, and abide awhile at the Cross Way House, to see what fares there, and to protect the household should Tyrrel and his men attack? Methinks that they may stand in need of the presence of kinsmen at such a time as that. I hear that ill is meant by these fierce men to all who bear the name of Trevlyn. Two of the women within those doors bear that name; wherefore-"

But Cuthbert had no need to complete his sentence; both young men had started at once to their feet.

"Kate in peril!" cried Culverhouse, between his shut teeth; "then verily her husband must find his way to her side."

"Petronella at the Cross Way House, exposed to alarm and attack!" cried Philip; "then must I be there to shelter and protect her."

"We will forth this very night!" cried Culverhouse. "I will to the house and get ready my servants to accompany me."

"I will make all preparation here!" echoed Philip, "and only await my father's return.

"Cuthbert, thinkest thou that they are in peril this very night? Speak; tell us all!"

"I trow not," answered Cuthbert with some decision, knowing that his object was well accomplished and that the Trevlyns would make all speed to leave London, yet scarcely himself wishing them to hurry off in the night like fugitives in fear for themselves. "I am certain sure that no immediate peril hangs over them, or I should have been more urgently warned. I would not have you hasten thus. I trow it would more alarm the ladies to be aroused by you in the middle of the night than to see you come riding thither later in the day on the morrow. Surely it would be better to wait for day. The night is black and tempestuous; it will be hard to find the road. Tomorrow with the first of the sunlight you may well ride forth."

Culverhouse and Philip both saw the soundness and reasonableness of this counsel, and knew that their respective fathers would both concur in this opinion, though their own impatience chafed at the delay.

"And thou-what wilt thou do thyself, Cuthbert?" asked Philip; "come with us to Cross Way House?"

Cuthbert hesitated a few moments, debating within himself what were best. He had been warned on the one hand to flee the forest, on the other to flee the city. If his mysterious gipsy friends were right, for him there was peril in both places. But it certainly seemed to him that his own presence and company would add to the perils of his kinsmen; and his decision was speedily taken.

"I hope to join you there anon," he said; "but I have something set my heart upon seeing this grand pageant when his Majesty shall open his Parliament on the fifth. Methinks I will stay for that, and then perchance I will forth to the Cross Way House."

He looked keenly at both his companions as he spoke, but neither face wore the least look of any secret intelligence. He was certain that no whisper of the plot had reached their ears.

"Ay, do so, and come and tell us all," said Culverhouse gaily. "I had thought to be there myself, but I must to my Kate's side.

"Philip, thy father will be something loath to leave London ere that day. Thinkest thou that thou canst persuade him?"

"I trow I can," answered Philip; and then they both turned on Cuthbert, asking him for a more detailed account of his search after and his discovery of the lost treasure, hanging with eager interest on his words.

It was late ere he left their lodgings, and the family at the bridge house had retired to rest. He found his way to his room; but little sleep visited his eyes that night, and the fitful dreams which came to him betwixt waking and sleeping seemed charged with ominous warnings.

Sir Richard Trevlyn heard his son's story in great surprise, but he hesitated not a moment as to the course of action they must pursue.

"I would it had been brought to Trevlyn Chase. We have a household of men there, and could well defy these rogues of the road. But Cross Way House has no such defences, and it is tenanted mainly by helpless women, and we must lose no time in going to their assistance. I have heard long since of this man-Tyrrel. He is a notable outlaw, and there is a price upon his head. The forest will be well freed of him if we can overthrow him. He has owed his safety again and again to his reckless riding and the alliance and good fellowship he has with the forest gipsies. It is time the whole brood were smoked out from their hiding places. They want destroying, root and branch!"