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

Those words seemed to be ringing in Cuthbert's ears, and then for a moment all was blackness and darkness, with a sense of distress and suffocation and stabs of sudden pain.

When he awoke from what he first thought had been a nightmare dream, he was puzzled indeed to know where he was, and for a while believed that he was dreaming still, and that he should soon awake to find himself in his little attic chamber in the bridge house. But as his senses gradually cleared themselves he became aware that he was in no such safe or desirable spot. He was lying on some cloaks in the bow of a large boat, which was being rowed steadily and silently up stream by four stalwart men. The daylight was gone, but so too was the fog, and the moon was shining down and giving a sufficient light. In the stern of the boat sat two other men, whose faces Cuthbert could dimly see, though their hats were drawn down over their brows. These faces did not seem entirely unfamiliar, yet he could not remember where it was he had seen them before. His senses were cloudy and confused. He felt giddy and exhausted. He had no disposition to try to move; but he soon found that even had he been so disposed he could have accomplished little. His feet were bound together by a cord, and his right hand was bound up and utterly powerless. He remembered the shot levelled at him in the garden of the river-side house, and felt certain that his wrist was broken.

And who were these men who were carrying him away captive, and what was their motive? He imagined that they must surely be those fierce pursuers who had striven to capture him upon the river, and who had followed him into the garden where he had hoped to hide himself from their malice. Doubtless they had found him as he lay in a momentary faint, and had borne him back to their boat; though what was their motive in thus capturing him, and whither they were now transporting him, he could not imagine. His mind was still confused and weak. Esther's words of warning seemed to mingle with the gurgle of the water against the bows of the boat. His temples throbbed, there was burning pain in his wounded arm; but the night wind fanned his brow, and brought with it a certain sense of refreshment.

Hitherto there had been unbroken silence in the boat, and the rowers had steadily plied their oars without uttering a word; but now that they were out in mid river, without the smallest fear of pursuit, far away from sight or sound from the shore, they paused as by common consent, and one of them suddenly said:

"Now, comrades, we must settle which it is to be. Are we to take him to Miriam or to Tyrrel?"

Those words told Cuthbert who were his captors. He was in the hands of the gipsies or highwaymen-probably the prisoner of a mixed band who had joined together to effect his capture. As the discussion went on it became more evident that there were two parties and two factions, both anxious to possess his person, and he listened with bated breath and a beating heart to every word that passed.

"I say to Miriam," spoke up one swarthy fellow, with a backward look towards the prisoner in the bow. "Miriam is wild to have him. She is certain sure he has killed Long Robin. She would give her two eyes to have vengeance on some Trevlyn. Why not let her have the boy, to do with as she will?"

"Because all she cares for is to burn him alive, as her old mother was burnt by some Trevlyn long ago; and what good would that do to the rest of us? Long Robin was no such friend to us. If Miriam's story be true, he was a treacherous fox, and deserved the fate he got. If he it was who stole and hid the treasure, and kept the secret all these years, hoping to enjoy the fruits of it alone, why, he was a knave and a villain, say I; and that old hag is little better. What do we care for her vow of vengeance? what is it to us? Tyrrel, now, wants the prisoner for a purpose. This lad knows where the treasure is, and he must give up the secret to us. Once we know where he found it, and if moved where he has stowed it, we shall speedily be rich for the rest of our days. You all know that the forest is getting something too hot for us. Tyrrel has decreed that we must go elsewhere, where we are less known. It would be a thousand pities to go without this treasure, since it really lies beneath our hand. A curse upon Long Robin, say I, for keeping it hid all these years! It was a scurvy trick! and Miriam was privy to it. I will raise no hand to help her. She may die with her vow unfulfilled for all I care. Had she but acted fairly by us, then would we have given yon lad up to her tender mercies; but not now-not now!"

A murmur of assent ran through the whole party. The only one to demur was the first speaker.

"The old woman got her death blow when Robin's corpse was found. She will not last many weeks more, they say. I should well like to bring her a bit of happiness at the end; and her one cry is for vengeance upon the Trevlyn brood. She would well like to have yon prisoner brought bound to her, Why not lead him first to Tyrrel and then to Miriam?"

"When Tyrrel has him, he will decree what is done with him, not we," said another voice. "He has no love for Miriam and her insensate hate. Miriam and Long Robin have both played us false; and Tyrrel loves the dark-eyed Joanna, and she will not stoop to any deed of cruelty or tyranny. He will have a care how he treats the boy over whom her mantle has once been thrown. But the secret of the gold he must and will have. We will not let him go without that."

"To Tyrrel then!" cried several voices with one accord. "I trow he will have scant patience with any son of the house of Trevlyn, since he was so bested by those other Trevlyns but two short evenings back. He will be glad enow to have this lad brought before him, for he verily feared that the whole brood had found shelter within the gates of the Cross Way House."

Cuthbert listened eagerly to these last words, which told him that his kinsmen at least had escaped peril and had found a safe shelter where the treasure lay. Knowing that this was so, and that the treasure was under their safe keeping, even did these men throw aside the tradition of years and make a raid upon the home of the Wyverns, his mind became somewhat calmed, although his own fate was terribly uncertain, and he might have to pay the penalty of his rashness with his life.

The rowers bent to their oars once again when this knotty point had been settled. They rowed on steadily for a short time, and then out of the darkness came a sharp clear hail.

"Who goes there?"

"Friends. We have caught the quarry; we are bringing him to Tyrrel."

"Good. He has been waiting with impatience this two hours for news. His wound doth not make him the more patient."

"We bring him at least the best medicine.

"Easy, lads! Ship your oars. Catch hold of her prow, Toby. So here we are safe and sound, and there is the prisoner!"

Cuthbert had raised his head, and supporting himself on his left elbow was gazing about him from side to side. He was still in the middle of the river; but the boat was now alongside a big barge moored in midstream, and from this barge several lights were gleaming, whilst voices were answering and asking questions, and the name of Tyrrel passed continually from mouth to mouth.

Then the rowers in the bow came and lifted him bodily in their arms, taking care not to be needlessly rough with the broken arm that gave him considerable pain; and so soon as he was placed upon the barge, the rope that bound his feet was cut, somebody remarking that it was needless now to hobble him, since he was safely on board and beneath the eye of the whole crew.

"And where is Tyrrel?" asked several voices.

"Below in the cabin, and waiting impatiently for news. Go, and take the boy with you; the sight of him will be the best medicine for him."

Cuthbert was led along, dazed and bewildered, but calm from a sense of his own helplessness, and perhaps from bodily weakness, too. This weakness surprised him, for he did not know how much blood he had lost, and he could not account for the way in which the lights swam before his eyes and his steps reeled, as he was taken down a dark ladder-like staircase and into a low long room with a swinging lamp suspended from the ceiling. It felt close and airless after the coldness of the night, and everything swam in a mist before his eyes; but he heard a voice not altogether unfamiliar say in authoritative accents: "Let him sit down, and give him a stoup of wine;" and presently his vision cleared, and he found himself sitting at one side of a rude table opposite the highway chieftain Tyrrel, whose face he well remembered. They were surrounded by a ring of stalwart men, some of whose faces were vaguely familiar to him from having been seen at the old mill a year ago from now.

He noted that Tyrrel's face was pale, and that his head was bandaged. It was plain that he had received recent injuries, and apparently these did not smooth his temper. His face was dark and stern, and the eyes that looked straight at Cuthbert gleamed ominously beneath their heavy brows.

"Well, boy," he said at length, seeing Cuthbert's gaze fasten upon him with inquiry and recognition, "so we meet again."

Cuthbert answered nothing. He did not intend to speak a needless word. He had some inkling now of the motive for his capture, but he was not going to show his hand.

"Cuthbert Trevlyn," said Tyrrel, in brief, terse sentences, "I have not brought thee here to bandy words with thee; I will to the point at once. I will tell thee why thou art here. Thou art in deadly peril from without. There is a vile Popish plot but recently discovered. The perpetrators and conspirators will all be seized upon the morrow. Thou art held to be one of these. Thou wilt be seized amongst others. Innocent or guilty, it matters not. Thou wilt die the traitor's death-the hideous doom of those accused of high treason. Thou wilt be lucky if thou art not racked first to make thee confess what men hold (whether truly or falsely) that thou knowest. I have interposed to save thee from that fate. I have had thee pursued and brought hither to me. I can and I will save thee and hide thee till all pursuit is over. But thou must purchase my protection at a price."

Cuthbert listened as one in a dream. He knew that Tyrrel might be speaking truth. He knew that he had received warnings before telling him he was suspected and watched. He recalled many past moments when he had felt that he had placed himself in a false position and might have laid himself open to misconstruction. But he had never thought himself in actual peril from the arm of the law. Was Tyrrel speaking the truth now, or was he only striving to intimidate him for his own ends?

Fixing his dark eyes full upon the face of the man opposite, he asked:

"And what is that price?"

"The secret of the Trevlyn treasure," was the calm reply-"the secret thou didst learn from Long Robin ere thou didst lay him in his bloody grave, and which now thou holdest alone. Where is the treasure, boy? Speak, and all will be well. For bethink thee, if thou holdest thy peace I give thee up on the morrow to the myrmidons of the law, and the golden secret will perish with thee, none profiting thereby. Tell it but to me, and by that honour which I have ever held sacred, thou shalt be released and placed in a secure hiding place till all hue and cry be past. Speak, then, for thy silence can aid none-least of all thyself. Tell the whole story and guide us to the treasure, and all will be well."

Cuthbert sat silent and motionless, turning the matter rapidly over in his mind. What should he do? Would it be a lasting disgrace to yield to thoughts of personal peril, and reveal all he knew? That revelation would not place the treasure in Tyrrel's hands. He might fear to assail the Cross Way House; and now that house might be so well guarded that it could defy attack.

Should he risk it? Should he tell all? For a moment he was half disposed to do so; but another thought followed, and the words were checked ere they had reached his lips.

What if further business had taken away Sir Richard and his son from the lonely house? What if, in the tumult and alarm that the news of such a plot would spread through the kingdom, the household within those walls should be left unprotected by these kinsmen, who might have occasion to make their way to their own home to see how it fared with those left there?

He knew the fearless character of Lady Humbert. She would never keep Sir Richard from his wife at a time of anxiety and possible peril. They might already have left the Cross Way House for Trevlyn Chase (for Lady Humbert knew that the secret of the treasure lay with none but themselves, and would have no fears for that). And if in the dead of night the whole force of the gipsy folk and the highwaymen-or even these latter alone, if they could not get the gipsies to join with them-were to sweep down and attack that solitary house, what chance would its inmates have against them? None, absolutely none! The golden hoard would speedily be made away with; the treasure would be lost to Trevlyn for ever, and all the golden hopes and dreams that had been centred upon it would be dispersed to the winds.

Should he have it always on his mind that he had sold the secret from craven fear? Should he ever know peace of mind or self respect again?

Never! he would die first. And surely since he had no dealings in this plot, and was innocent of all thought of treason, no hurt could come to him even were he given up. Surely he could prove his innocence, though with his head so confused as it now was he scarce knew how he should be able to parry and answer the questions addressed to him. Perchance some knowledge of his peril would reach the ears of Lord Culverhouse, and he would come to his aid. At least he would not be coerced and threatened into betraying his secret. Tyrrel might do his worst; he would defy him.

He looked straight at the robber chief, who sat awaiting his reply with a cold smile of triumph on his face, and answered briefly:

"I shall tell you nothing."

A gleam of anger shone in the man's eyes.

"Have a care how thou answerest me. Remember that thy secret will perish with thee when thou goest to the traitor's death."

"It will not," answered Cuthbert coolly. "There be others of my kindred that know it. The treasure will be saved for Trevlyn, do what thou wilt with me."

"I shall do as I have said," answered Tyrrel, speaking very clearly and distinctly. "My plans are all well laid. If within two hours thou hast not altered thy mind, thou wilt be rowed ashore by my men, bound hand and foot. Thou wilt then be given in custody to some good friends of ours on shore, who lie not under suspicion as we do. By them thou wilt be guarded till morning breaks, and then all London will be ringing with the news of this foul plot, and men will be ready to tear limb from limb all those who are so much as suspected to have had dealings with the false traitors who have planned all. Then wilt thou, Cuthbert Trevlyn, whose name has already been whispered abroad as one having cognizance of this matter, be handed over to the tender mercies of the law. It will be told of thee how thou wast caught in the very garden of the house where these vile conspirators resort, and that thou didst fight like a fury to save thyself from capture. Thy dealings with Father Urban will be remembered against thee, and many another thing beside. A traitor's death will be thine end; and thou wilt wish in vain when those dark hours come upon thee thou hadst saved thyself when yet there was time. I give thee two hours to bethink thee of these things. If thou wilt speak plainly, tell us all thou knowest, and help to place the treasure in our hands, we will save thee from the fate that awaits thee on shore. If not, we will give thee over to it; and then no power on earth can save thee."

But Cuthbert's mind had already been made up, and he did not waver. He knew himself innocent of all complicity in the plot, and he clung to the hope that his innocence might be proved. In no case would he purchase his freedom by a loss of self respect, by a cowardly yielding up of that very treasure it had been the dream of his life to restore to the house of Trevlyn. Argument and menace were alike thrown away upon him; and two hours later, bound hand and foot, as Tyrrel had said, he was thrown roughly into the bottom of the wherry, and rowed downstream in dead silence, he knew not whither.

Chapter 26: Jacob's Devotion

"If thou wouldst save thy friend from a terrible fate, come hither to me without delay."

Jacob stood gazing at this scrap of parchment as one in a dream, his slow wits only taking in by degrees the meaning of the mysterious words.

"Thy friend," he repeated slowly, "thy friend! What friend? I have many. Terrible fate! Saints preserve us, what means that? Can it be Cuthbert who is in peril-that rash Cuthbert, for ever diving into matters he had far, far better let alone, and burning his fingers for naught? Can it be of him it speaks? Belike it may. There have been ugly whispers abroad of late. Mine uncle told me only this day that some constables came to his door asking some trivial questions anent his household, and speaking of Cuthbert by name. It would be like his folly at such a moment to run his head into a noose.

"But he shall not be hurt if I can help it. Who is this wise woman who sends the message? Methinks I have heard Rachel speak of her ere now. Well, I can but go visit her and hear what she would have to say. I know the house in Budge Row; I took Rachel to the door once. For myself, I love not such hocus pocus; but if it be a matter of Cuthbert's safety, I will e'en go and listen to her tale. If she wants to filch money from me for foul purposes, she will find she has come to the wrong man. I will pay for nothing till I have got my money's worth."