The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ada, the Betrayed, by John Malcolm Rymer This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: Ada, the Betrayed Or, The Murder at the Old Smithy Author: John Malcolm Rymer Release Date: May 12, 2015 [EBook #48938] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADA, THE BETRAYED *** Produced by Allan Hackney ADA, THE BETRAYED; OR, THE MURDER AT THE OLD SMITHY. A ROMANCE OF PASSION. ——— JOHN MALCOLM RYMER TABLE OF CONTENTS PREFACE CHAPTER I. THE STORM.—THE OLD SMITHY.—A DEED OF BLOOD.—THE DEATH CRY.—THE CHILD OF THE DEAD.—REMORSE AND DESPAIR. CHAPTER II. THE LULL OF THE TEMPEST.—MORNING IS COMING.—THE CHILD OF MYSTERY.—THE NECKLACE.—A SURPRISE AND A DISAPPEARANCE.—THE INSCRIPTION.—THE LORD OF LEARMONT. CHAPTER III. TEN YEARS HAVE FLOWN.—THE OLD ROSE INN.—A SNOW STORM.—TOM THE FACTOTUM.—AN ARRIVAL TO THE OLD SMITHY.— THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER. CHAPTER IV. THE OLD SMITHY.—A LONE MAN.—THE ALARM.—THE MYSTERIOUS CONFERENCE.—GUILT AND MISERY. CHAPTER V. THE MORNING.—A VISIT.—BLASTED HOPES.—THE ARRANGED MEETING.—THE PACKET.—AND THE KNIFE. CHAPTER VI. NIGHT AGAIN.—THE RUINS.—THE CONFERENCE.—THE OLD OAKEN DOOR.—THE RESOLVE. CHAPTER VII. THE CONFERENCE, CONTINUED.—MUTUAL SECURITY.—THE OAKEN DOOR AND THE STRANGE APPEARANCE.—MYSTERIES THICKEN. CHAPTER VIII. THE MANSION.—OFFERS OF MAGNITUDE.—THE DOUBLE PLOT. CHAPTER IX. LONDON IN 1742.—GRAY’S HOME.—THE CHILD.—THE VOICE OF CONSCIENCE.—A VISIT. CHAPTER X. THE DISAPPEARANCE.—MRS. BRIDGET STRANGEWAYS AND THE OLD OAKEN CHEST.—ALBERT’S GRIEF AND DESPAIR. CHAPTER XI. LEARMONT IN LONDON.—THE ENDEAVOUR TO DROWN THOUGHT.—LIFE IN 1742.—ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. CHAPTER XII. THE CONSEQUENCES OF CRIME.—A FAMILIAR FRIEND.—A CLOUD UPON LEARMONT’S FELICITY. CHAPTER XIII. A WALK IN THE PARK.—A RECOGNITION.—THE QUESTION.—A DEFIANCE.—JACOB GRAY’S FIRST VISIT.—THE DREAM. CHAPTER XIV. THE DARK THREAT.—THE BITER BIT.—ANOTHER MURDER PROJECTED.—LEARMONT’S REASONING. CHAPTER XV. CHASE.—A LONG RACE, AND ITS RESULTS. CHAPTER XVI. THE LONE HOUSE IN ANCIENT LAMBETH.—THE BOY.—A SOLITARY HEART. CHAPTER XVII. “THE CHEQUERS,” AT WESTMINSTER.—BRITTON’S NOTIONS OF GREATNESS.—“WHEN THE WINE IS IN, THE WIT IS OUT.” CHAPTER XVIII. THE LONE MAX.—THE VOICE OF CONSCIENCE. CHAPTER XIX. LEARMONT’S ADVENTURE.—A DISCOVERY.—THE HAUNTED HOUSE.—EXULTATION, AND A RESOLUTION. CHAPTER XX. THE GUIDE.—THE OLD HOUSE.—THE MURDER. CHAPTER XXI. A SUNNY MORNING.—THE CHAMBER IN THE OLD HOUSE. CHAPTER XXII. LEARMONT AT HOME.—HIS EXULTATION.—THE SMITH.—THE PLOT. CHAPTER XXIII. THE PROJECTED MURDER.—THE UNCONSCIOUS SLEEPER.—A NIGHT OF HORROR. CHAPTER XXIV. THE ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION.—A SURPRISE.—ADA’S SURMISES.—THE AGONY OF GRAY. CHAPTER XXV. THE ESCAPE.—TAUNTS.—THE CONFESSION.—LEARMONT’S RAGE AND DISCOMFITURE. CHAPTER XXVI. THE MORNING.—THE BODY OF THE MURDERED MAN.—THE OLD INN.—JACOB’S REFLECTIONS. CHAPTER XXVII. ADA’S FLIGHT AND DESPAIR.—OLD WESTMINSTER BRIDGE AT DAYBREAK.—THE SMITH.—MAD MAUD. CHAPTER XXVIII. ADA’S WANDERINGS.—THE PEARL NECKLACE.—A KIND HEART.—THE PARK.—A JOYOUS MEETING.—THE ARRANGEMENT. CHAPTER XXIX. THE YOUNG LOVERS.—THE GALLANT OF A HUNDRED YEARS SINCE.—HOPES AND FEARS.—THE DREAM OF A TRUE HEART. CHAPTER XXX. JACOB’S RETURN HOME.—AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.—THE LONELY WATCH. CHAPTER XXXI. ADA’S FATE AGAIN AGAINST HER.—THE THREAT.—THE NEW HOME. CHAPTER XXXII. ALBERT’S DISAPPOINTMENT.—TIBBS, THE BEAR WARDEN.—THE SEARCH.—A CONSULTATION. CHAPTER XXXIII. LEARMONT AT HOME.—DARK REFLECTIONS.—THE SUMMONS.—THE CONFEDERATES.—SUSPICIONS. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE GIRL IN HER MELANCHOLY HOME.—THE PRISON HOUSE.—A DUNGEON’S GLOOM.—UNAVAILING SORROW. CHAPTER XXV. ADA’S APPEAL.—THE PROMISE.—ADA’S DESPAIR.—GRAY’S TRIUMPH. CHAPTER XXVI. THE SQUIRE.—THE LIFE OF A CAPTIVE.—A STRANGE FATALITY.—THE ASSOCIATES. CHAPTER XXVII. LEARMONT AT HOME.—THE BARONETCY.—A VISITOR.—THE REJECTED OFFER. CHAPTER XXVIII. ADA’S LONE HOME.—THE SUMMER.—AN ADVENTURE. CHAPTER XXIX. THE ALARM.—THE PURSUIT.—A MOB IN THE LAST CENTURY.—THE FUGITIVE.—MAUD, THE BEGGAR. CHAPTER XXX. THE TALE.—A BLIGHTED HEART’S DESPAIR. CHAPTER XXXI. THE INTERVIEW.—JACOB GRAY’S MEDITATIONS.—THE SLIP OF PAPER.—THE NAIL.—THE GUILTY CONSCIENCE.—THE DEPARTURE. CHAPTER XXXII. JACOB GRAY’S FEARS.—THE PROMISE.—ADA’S MEDITATIONS. CHAPTER XXXIII. BRITTON AT THE CHEQUERS.—THE VISIT.—A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.—THE GOOD COMPANY. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE FÊTE.—VILLANY PROSPERS FOR A SEASON.—AN INTERRUPTION.—THE DANCE. CHAPTER XXXV. THE BALL-ROOM.—A NOBLE FAMILY.—THE INTERRUPTION.—UNEXPECTED END OF LEARMONT’S FÊTE. CHAPTER XXXVI. ALBERT SEYTON.—THE LONELY SEARCH.—A SUGGESTION.—AN IMPORTANT VISIT. CHAPTER XXXVII. THE PURSUIT.—THE ATTEMPTED MURDER.—A PROVIDENTIAL INTERFERENCE.—THE PAPERS. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE MEETING AT MILL-BANK.—THE KNIFE.—ADA’S FATE HANGS ON A THREAD.—THE BOLD PLUNGE. CHAPTER XXXIX. THE SMITH’S ANGER.—A DRUNKEN TOUR THROUGH WESTMINSTER IN THE OLDEN TIME.—THE WATCH.—A SCENE AT THE CHEQUERS. —THE DETERMINATION. CHAPTER XL. THE OLD HOUSE AGAIN.—ADA’S ALARM.—GRAY AND HIS GOLD. CHAPTER XLI. A HUMAN VOICE.—THE DEPARTURE.—AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.—THE RECEPTION. CHAPTER XLII. GRAY’S CUNNING.—DANGER THICKENS.—THE HOUR OF RETRIBUTION HAS NOT COME. CHAPTER XLIII. THE PROPOSAL.—GRAY’S REASONING.—THE VAULT.—ADA’S TEARS.—A GUILTY HEART’S AGONY. CHAPTER XLIV. THE SEARCH.—THE CONFESSION.—THE STRANGE REPORT.—AN AWFUL DILEMMA. CHAPTER XLV. THE LONELY WATCHER.—GRAY’S CUNNING.—THE CUPBOARD ON THE STAIRS. CHAPTER XLVI. THE DEATH OF THE ELDER SEYTON.—ALBERT’S GRIEF.—THE PROPHECY. CHAPTER XLVII. THE SMITH AT LEARMONT HOUSE.—THE BREAKFAST.—THE THREAT, AND ITS RESULTS.—THE CAUTION. CHAPTER XLVIII. THE ESCAPE.—A SONG OF THE TIMES. CHAPTER XLIX. THE PROJECTED MURDER.—THE ALARM.—THE DEATH-SHOT.—ADA’S ANGUISH AND INDIGNATION. CHAPTER L. THE RUIN AT NIGHT.—THE FIRE.—GRAY’S BEHAVIOUR.—A CHALLENGE.—OLD WESTMINSTER AGAIN. CHAPTER LI. THE ALCOVE ON THE BRIDGE.—GRAY’S SPEECH TO ADA.—THE FLIGHT.—THE HUNT.—THE LAST REFUGE. CHAPTER LII. THE DARK COURT.—A DEED OF BLOOD.—THE PURSUIT CONTINUED.—THE MOTHER AND THE CHILD. CHAPTER LIII. A MOTHER’S CARE.—THE PURSUIT.—A SUCCESSFUL RUSE.—THE SECOND VISIT. CHAPTER LIV. THE STAIRCASE.—THE OLD ATTIC.—A FRIEND IN NEED.—FAIR PLAY.—GRAY’S DESPAIR. CHAPTER LV. THE ESCAPE OVER THE HOUSES.—MANY PERILS.—GRAY’S GREAT SUFFERINGS.—THE GUIDE ROPE. CHAPTER LVI. THE ROBBERS.—THE DRUGGED WINE.—VISIONS OF THE MIND DISEASED. CHAPTER LVII. ADA’S ESCAPE.—THE MAGISTRATE.—ADA’S IGNORANCE OF LONDON LOCALITIES.—LEARMONT’S FRIGHT. CHAPTER LVIII. AN ANECDOTE.—SIR FRANCIS HARTLETON’S HOUSE AT WESTMINSTER.—THE RECEPTION.—ADA’S CONDUCT AND FEELINGS. CHAPTER LIX. JACOB GRAY AND HIS KIND FRIENDS.—THE PLUNDER.—THIEVES’ MORALITY.—THE DRIVE TO HAMPSTEAD. CHAPTER LX. ADA AT SIR FRANCIS HARTLETON’S.—THE PHILOSOPHY OF A YOUNG HEART.—A CONFESSION.—THE PLEASURE OF SYMPATHY. CHAPTER LXI. ALBERT SEYTON’S DESTITUTION.—A LONE AND WEARIED SPIRIT.—THE APPLICATION TO LEARMONT, AND THE MEETING WITH SIR FRANCIS HARTLETON. CHAPTER LXII. JACOB GREY IN THE HAMPSTEAD FIELDS.—THE PLACARD.—THE REWARD. CHAPTER LXIII. GRAY’S PROCEEDINGS.—A NARROW ESCAPE.—THE NIGHT VISIT TO LEARMONT. CHAPTER LXIV. THE CHEQUERS.—BRITTON’S CORNER.—AN ALARM.—THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.—A QUARREL.—A FIGHT AND A LITTLE ANATOMY. CHAPTER LXV. AN INTERVIEW WITH A SECRETARY OF STATE.—SIR FRANCIS HARTLETON’S DIFFICULTIES. CHAPTER LXVI. GRAY’S VISIT TO LEARMONT.—THE DISAPPOINTMENT.—A WEEK OF TERROR.—THE STREET NEWSVENDER. CHAPTER LXVII. THE DISAPPOINTMENT.—THE LAST RESOURCE.—A STRANGE MEETING.—THE CONFESSION. CHAPTER LXVIII. BRITTON AND LEARMONT.—MIND AND MATTER PRODUCE SIMILAR RESULTS.—LEARMONT’S WEAKNESS AND FEARS.—THE CHAIR. CHAPTER LXIX. A WALK AND A MEETING.—THE VISION AT THE OPEN CASEMENT.—LEARMONT’S PERTURBATION. CHAPTER LXX. THE JEW AND THE NECKLACE.—GRAY’S TROUBLES AND SURMISES.—AN ADVENTURE. CHAPTER LXXI. THE PURSUIT.—A SUCCESSFUL RUSE.—THE LONG NIGHT.—GRAY’S TERROR. CHAPTER LXXII. THE RETURN OF LEARMONT.—THE INTERVIEW.—DOUBTS AND FEARS. CHAPTER LXXIII. THE TROUBLESOME SHOE-MAKER.—GRAY’S AGONY AND DANGER.—THE FLIGHT. CHAPTER LXXIV. ADA’S HOME.—A HAPPY SCENE.—THE SERENITY OF GOODNESS. CHAPTER LXXV. BRITTON IN HIS GLORY AGAIN.—THE SONG AND THE LEGAL FUNCTIONARY.—THE SURPRISE. CHAPTER LXXVI. THE OLD ASSOCIATES.—GRAY’S FEARS.—THE OLD ATTIC AT THE CHEQUERS. CHAPTER LXXVII. THE SMITH’S PLOT AGAINST GRAY.—AN ACCOMMODATING FRIEND. CHAPTER LXXVIII. GRAY ON THE HOUSE TOPS.—SPECIMENS OF THE RISING GENERATION.—THE OLD ATTIC. CHAPTER LXXIX. THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN ALBERT AND LEARMONT.—THE PROMISE, AND ALBERT’S RELATION. CHAPTER LXXX. THE UNFORTUNATE CONFIDENCE OF ALBERT SEYTON.—LEARMONT’S PROMISES AND TREACHERY. CHAPTER LXXXI. LEARMONT’S IMPROVED PROSPECTS.—THE PARK.—ADA’S RECOLLECTIONS.—THE MEETING. CHAPTER LXXXII. LEARMONT’S SNEERS.—THE SPY.—THE AMATEUR CONSTABLE. CHAPTER LXXXIII. GRAY’S PERIL.—A PEEP INTO DOMESTIC AFFAIRS.—THE CORPULENT LADY.—THE MAN WHO WAS HUNG ON MONDAY. CHAPTER LXXXIV. THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED.—THE ESCAPE.—JACOB GRAY’S NEW LODGING. CHAPTER LXXXV. LEARMONT’S TREACHERY TO ALBERT SEYTON.—THE PLOT AGAINST GRAY. CHAPTER LXXXVI. GRAY AT HOME.—THE CONFESSION.—A WALK THROUGH WESTMINSTER IN SEARCH OF A WIG. CHAPTER LXXXVII. JACOB GRAY’S DISGUISE.—THE TROUBLESOME SHOEMAKER AGAIN.—THE VISIT. CHAPTER LXXXVIII. MAD MAUD AND THE MAGISTRATE.—THE SCRAPS OF GRAY’S CONFESSION. CHAPTER LXXXIX. THE REVELATION.—LEARMONT’S DEEP DUPLICITY.—ALBERT’S GRATITUDE. CHAPTER XC. THE LAST MEETING.—MUTUAL CUNNING.—THE SQUIRE AND JACOB GRAY. CHAPTER XCI. THE PURSUIT.—THE SPY.—THE THREE WHERRIES ON THE THAMES. CHAPTER XCII. THE CHASE ON THE THAMES.—ALBERT’S SUCCESSFUL DISGUISE.—THE OLD STAIRS AT BUCKINGHAM-STREET. CHAPTER XCIII. GRAY AT HOME.—ALBERT’S JOY AND EXULTATION.—THE MEETING IN THE OLD DOOR WAY. CHAPTER XCIV. STRONG DRINK AT THE CHEQUERS.—THE SUMMONS TO BRITTON.—HIS MAJESTY’S AMUSEMENTS. CHAPTER XCV. THE WALK IN SEARCH OF ALBERT.—THE RECOGNITION AT CHARING CROSS. CHAPTER XCVI. SIR FRANCIS HARTLETON’S SURPRISE AT ALBERT’S PLACE OF DESTINATION.—THE WATCH ON THE SQUIRES’ HOUSE.—ADA’S DISAPPOINTMENT. CHAPTER XCVII. THE VISIT TO GRAY’S HOUSE.—LEARMONT’S EXULTATION. CHAPTER XCVIII. ALBERT’S LOVE AND DETERMINATION.—THE SQUIRE’S DREAM. CHAPTER XCIX. ADA’S FAITH IN ALBERT SEYTON.—THE CONFIDENCE OF A GENEROUS HEART. CHAPTER C. LEARMONT’S VISIT TO THE CHEQUERS.—THE SLEEPING SMITH. CHAPTER CI. THE SEARCH.—THE ASSIGNATION.—BRITTON’S SURPRISE AND EXALTATION. CHAPTER CII. THE HOUR OF ELEVEN.—GRAY IN HIS SOLITARY HOME.—THE LOVER’S WATCH.—THE EVE OF THE MURDER. CHAPTER CIII. FROM TWELVE TO ONE. CHAPTER CIV. THE MURDER. CHAPTER CV. AFTER THE MURDER. CHAPTER CVI. THE ARREST. CHAPTER CVII. THE INTERVIEW AND THE EXCULPATION.—SIR FRANCIS HARTLETON’S CAUTION. CHAPTER CVIII. ALBERT’S DESPAIR.—THE TESTS OF TRUTH. CHAPTER CIX. THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. CHAPTER CX. THE LOVERS.—THE INTERVIEW OF SIR FRANCIS HARTLETON WITH THE SECRETARY OF STATE.—THE BALL. CHAPTER CXI. THE CONFESSION. CHAPTER CXII. THE CONSULTATION WITH ALBERT AND ADA.—THE ARRANGEMENT FOR THE BALL. CHAPTER CXIII. LEARMONT AND BRITTON AFTER THE MURDER. CHAPTER CXIV. ALBERT’S VISIT TO LEARMONT.—THE SQUIRE’S TRIUMPH. CHAPTER CXV. THE MASKED BALL. CHAPTER CXVI. THE DEATH OF LEARMONT. CHAPTER CXVII. THE PURSUIT FOR BRITTON. CHAPTER CXVIII. CONCLUSION. THE AUTHOR TO HIS READERS. THE HOPE OF ALBERT SEYTON TO ADA THE BETRAYED. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES LLOYD’S PENNY WEEKLY MISCELLANY OF ROMANCE AND GENERAL INTEREST There's not a passion of the mind, A moving thraldom of the o’verwrought brain, But with the magic of an art which is immortal, Is enshrined here.—BEN JONSON. I have a tale of war for knight Lay of love for beauty bright, Fairy tale to lull the heir, Goblins grim the maids to scare.—SCOTT. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY E. LLOYD, 12 SALISBURY SQUARE, FLEET STREET. ——— 1843. PREFACE PREFACES, LIKE PROLOGUES, HAVE NEARLY GONE OUT OF FASHION; BUT THE EDITOR OF LLOYD’S PENNY WEEKLY MISCELLANY FEELS, THAT UPON THE COMPLETION OF THE FIRST VOLUME OF HIS LABOURS, HE IS BOUND TO SAY SOMETHING TO HIS PATRONS, IF IT IS BUT TO THANK THEM MOST HEARTILY AND SINCERELY FOR a degree of patronage, such as he may venture to say, few, if any, periodical PUBLICATIONS HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BOAST OF. WHEN WE FIRST LAUNCHED our MISCELLANY UPON THE STREAM OF TIME, WE WERE GRATIFIED TO FIND THAT THE BREATH OF POPULAR APPLAUSE FILLED ITS SAILS, AND BORE IT GALLANTLY FORWARD PAST MANY A PROUD COMPETITOR; AND WE HAVE FOUND, BY THE EXPERIENCE OF TWELVE MONTHS, THAT THE FAIR WIND THAT URGED US ONWARDS WAS NOT “A MERE PASSING GALE,” FOR EACH WEEK HAS MATERIALLY INCREASED OUR CIRCULATION, UNTIL THE MISCELLANY NOW OCCUPIES A PLACE IN THE PERIODICAL LITERATURE OF GREAT BRITAIN (AND, IN FACT, WHEREVER THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE IS SPOKEN), WHICH MAY WELL FILL THE HEARTS OF BOTH PUBLISHER AND EDITOR WITH THE MOST grateful feelings towards their best friends—the Public. HAVING SAID THUS MUCH OF THE PAST, IT BEHOVES US TO SAY SOMETHING OF THAT WHICH IS TO COME. FIRST AND FOREMOST THEN, THOSE PENS WHICH HAVE already received the meed of popular applause, will still continue to “Weave their airy fictions” IN OUR PAGES. THE AUTHOR OF “ ADA, THE BETRAYED; OR, THE MURDER AT THE OLD SMITHY,” IN PARTICULAR, HAS SEVERAL NOVELTIES IN progress, which from time to time will appear. SECONDLY,—WE SHALL MAKE IT OUR STUDY TO MAINTAIN THE HIGH MAJESTY OF VIRTUE OVER THE TURBULENCE OF VICE, AND TO MAKE OUR PAGES, WHILE THEY GLOW WITH THE ROMANTIC AND THE CHIVALROUS, SO REPLETE WITH TRUE NOBILITY OF SENTIMENT, THAT WE SHALL, AS HITHERTO, FIND OUR WAY, AND MAINTAIN OUR place, among the young and pure of heart. IN CONCLUSION, WE CAN ONLY ADD, THAT AS WE HAVE DONE SO WILL WE DO, AND WHILE LLOYD’S PENNY WEEKLY MISCELLANY SHALL LOSE NONE OF ITS PRESENT ATTRACTIONS, WE PLEDGE OURSELVES THAT NEITHER EXPENSE, TIME, OR TROUBLE, SHALL BE SPARED TO ADD TO IT EVERY ATTRACTIVE FEATURE WHICH MAY GROW OUT OF THE INTELLIGENCE AND SPIRIT OF THE AGE, OUR WISH BRING TO RENDER IT A RATIONAL COMPANION FOR ALL CLASSES OF PERSONS. WE MUST LIKEWISE, IN SOME DEGREE, CLAIM FOR OURSELVES THE MERIT, IF WE MAY BE ALLOWED THE TERM, OF LAYING BEFORE A LARGE AND INTELLIGENT CLASS OF READERS, AT A CHARGE COMPARATIVELY INSIGNIFICANT, THOSE SAME PLEASURES OF THE IMAGINATION WHICH HAVE HITHERTO, TO A GREAT EXTENT, ONLY GRACED THE POLISHED LEISURE OF THE WEALTHY; AND, AT THE SAME TIME THAT WE HAVE DONE SO, WE HAVE FOUND WITH UNMINGLED SATISFACTION THAT CORRECT TASTES, GLOWING FANCIES, AND AN ADMIRABLE PERCEPTION OF THE POETICAL AND THE BEAUTIFUL, ARE AS WELL TO BE FOUND BY THE HUMBLEST FIRE-SIDES, AS IN THE LORDLY MANSIONS OF THE GREAT and the noble. TO OUR NUMEROUS CORRESPONDENTS WE HAVE TO RETURN OUR SINCERE THANKS FOR MANY LITERARY FAVOURS, AS WELL AS FOR MUCH FRIENDLY COMMENDATION THEY HAVE BEEN PLEASED TO BESTOW UPON OUR LABOURS, AND WITH A SANGUINE HOPE THAT WE AND OUR READERS SHALL PROCEED AS PLEASANTLY TOGETHER TO the year 1844, as we have to 1843, we gratefully thus introduce our first volume to their notice. ADA, THE BETRAYED; OR, THE MURDER AT THE OLD SMITHY. A ROMANCE OF PASSION. ——— Around the winter’s hearth the tale is told, To lisping infancy and hoary age; It is a story of strange passion—of grief and tears— Of joy and love, and all the elements of mind Which make us what we are. SCOTT. CHAPTER I. THE STORM.—THE OLD SMITHY.—A DEED OF BLOOD.—THE DEATH CRY.—THE CHILD OF THE DEAD.—REMORSE AND DESPAIR. IT WAS TOWARDS THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR 1795 THAT A STORM, UNEQUALLED IN DURATION AND FURY, SWEPT OVER ONE OF THE MOST FERTILE DISTRICTS OF ENGLAND, SPREADING CONSTERNATION AND DISMAY AMONG THE INHABITANTS OF SEVERAL VILLAGES, AND DESTROYING IN A FEW SHORT HOURS THE HOPES OF MANY AN industrious family, who looked to the nearly ripened grain of the fertile fields for their means of subsistence through the coming winter. THE DAY HAD BEEN LOWERING AND OVERCAST. AN UNUSUAL SULTRINESS HAD PERVADED THE AIR, AND ALTHOUGH MORE THAN SIXTY MILES OF HILL AND DALE LAID BETWEEN THE SPOT TO WHICH WE ALLUDE AND THE NORTHERN OCEAN, WHICH WASHES THE EASTERN SHORE OF ENGLAND, SEVERAL SEA BIRDS (A MOST UNWONTED sight) had flown, screeching and wailing, over the rich corn-fields and promising orchards. THE DAY HAD WORN GRADUALLY ON, AND IT WAS NOT UNTIL THE SUN WAS LOST AMID A MASS OF FIERY CLOUDS IN THE GLOWING WEST THAT ANY PRECISE INDICATIONS OF THE APPROACHING TEMPEST PRESENTED THEMSELVES. THEN, HOWEVER, WHEN THE LONG SHADOWS FROM THE TREES BEGAN TO LOSE THEIR IDENTITY in the general gloom of the rapidly approaching night, a singular moaning wind began to blow from the north-west. THE CATTLE SHOWED ALARM AND UNEASINESS—THE BIRDS FLEW LOW AND UNCERTAINLY—HORSES TREMBLED IN THEIR STABLES, AND THE HOARSE SCREAM OF VARIOUS LARGE BIRDS OF PREY AS THEY FLEW OVER THE FARM-HOUSE, OR SETTLED ON THE ROOFS, HAD A PECULIARLY DISCORDANT EFFECT. IT WOULD SEEM AS IF THERE was something in the air which enabled the inferior animals to know and dread the awful strife of the elements which was about to ensue. THE GLOWING CLOUDS IN THE WEST RAPIDLY DISAPPEARED, AND THE NIGHT FELL OVER THE LAND AS IF A BLACK PALL HAD BEEN SUDDENLY CAST OVER THE FACE OF Nature. The wind momentarily increased in violence. Now it moaned like an evil SPIRIT ROUND THE GABLE ENDS OF THE HOUSES; THEN AGAIN, WITH A wild whistle and a rushing sound, it would sweep past the latticed windows like a wild animal seeking its prey. OCCASIONALLY THERE WOULD BE A LULL IN THE TEMPEST, AND IN ONE OF THESE THE HEAVENS WERE LIT UP WITH A FLASH OF LIGHTNING OF SUCH POWER AND BRILLIANCY, THAT ALL WHO SAW IT CLOSED INSTANTLY THEIR EYES IN DISMAY, AND TREMBLED WITH APPREHENSION. THEN FOLLOWED THUNDER—THUNDER THAT SHOOK the houses to their foundations, and boomed and rattled in the sky with so awful a sound that many of the villagers sunk upon THEIR KNEES TO PRAY, FOR THEY THOUGHT THE END OF THE WORLD WAS AT HAND, AND THEY SHOULD NEVER SEE THE BLESSED SUN AGAIN. MOTHERS CLASPED THEIR SCREAMING CHILDREN TO THEIR BREASTS, AND WEPT IN BITTERNESS OF HEART. STRONG MEN SHOOK WITH FEAR, AND WHEN AGAIN THE WIND AROSE, AND, LIKE A GIANT’S ARM, LEVELLED HEDGES, TREES, HAYSTACKS, AND SOME HOUSES, A CRY OF DISMAY AROSE FROM THE VILLAGERS, AND THE BELLS WERE RUNG IN THE RURAL CHURCHES. SOME screamed—some prayed—some wept and rung their hands. All was horror, uncertainty, and despair! THE STORM HAD LASTED SEVERAL HOURS, AND STILL, THE FORKED LIGHTNING DARTED IN LIVID STREAKS FROM CLOUD TO CLOUD. THE AWFUL THUNDER FILLED THE AIR WITH ITS HUNDRED ECHOES, AND THE WIND SWEPT OVER A SCENE OF DESOLATION, FOR THE SMILING CORN-FIELDS WERE NO MORE; THE LADEN FRUIT TREES WERE levelled with the soil, and many a cottage had its humble thatch torn off, and presented but its bare walls to the moaning blast. THE PRINCIPLE FURY OF THE LAND STORM SEEMED TO HAVE BEEN LEVELLED AT A LITTLE VILLAGE WHICH OCCUPIED THE GENTLE SLOPE OF A BEAUTIFUL AND FERTILE VALLEY, SOME FEW MILES FROM ASHBY-DE-LA-ZOUCH, AND THROUGH THE LOWEST PORTION OF WHICH A BRANCH OF THE RIVER DERWENT WOUND ITS SERPENTINE course. The village was called Learmont, from the name of a noble family who, since the Norman conquest, had been the owners of the land. THERE WAS SCARCELY A HOUSE, FROM THE HUMBLEST COTTAGE TO THE LORDLY MANSION OF THE LEARMONTS, WHICH HAD NOT SUFFERED BY THE HURRICANE; AND TO ADD TO THE DISMAY OF THE INHABITANTS, WHO IN FEAR AND DREAD HAD RUSHED FROM THEIR HOMES, THERE AROSE ABOUT THE HOUR OF MIDNIGHT THE DREADFUL cry of fire! THAT FEARFUL CRY STRUCK TERROR TO EVERY HEART, AND THOSE WHO HAD BREATH TO SHRIEK JOINED THE SHOUT, AND “FIRE! FIRE!” PASSED FROM MOUTH TO mouth, in all the different tones and cadences of fear and hopelessness. ALL UNCERTAINTY AS TO THE PRECISE LOCALITY OF THE FIRE WAS SOON REMOVED, FOR THE FLAMES FROM A LARGE IRREGULAR BUILDING, STANDING SOMEWHAT APART from the other houses, quickly marked it as the spot of the conflagration. “It’s at the Old Smithy,” cried a dozen voices. The words had scarcely passed their lips, when a woman darted into the centre of the throng, shrieking wildly,— “AYE—IT IS AT THE OLD SMITHY! THE TIME HAS COME—I KNEW. I HAVE TOLD YOU ALL; YOU, AND YOU, AND YOU, I’VE TOLD. HA! HA! HA! HEAVEN HAS AT LAST FORGED A BOLT FOR THE OLD SMITHY! DO YOU STAND AGHAST! CAN YOU PUT OUT YON LIGHT? NO—NO—NO! I KNOW YOU CANNOT. THE OLD SMITHY gone at last. Ha! HA! I AM HAPPY NOW—HAPPY NOW! YOU DO NOT STIR. YOU ARE right—quite right. Let him, Andrew BRITTON—THAT’S HIS NAME—LET HIM ROAST AND WRITHE IN THE FLAMES—LET HIS SKIN BLACKEN IN CURLING LIGHTS—LET HIS FLESH DROP FROM HIM IN THE HISSING, ROARING FIRE—LET HIS BONES WHITEN, AND GLOW, AND CRACKLE INTO LONG WHITE SPLINTERS, AS THEY WILL—AS I KNOW THEY WILL; BUT I WANT TO SEE IT, MY MASTERS—I WANT TO SEE IT. LIVE —live and shriek, Andrew Britton, till I come. Hark! now. I hear him. Hark!—music—music—’tis music.” SHE WAS ABOUT TO BOUND OFF IN THE DIRECTION OF THE BLAZING HOUSE, LEAVING HER LISTENERS AGHAST AT HER TERRIBLE DENUNCIATIONS, WHEN A MAN OF FORBIDDING ASPECT AND HERCULEAN BUILD RUSHED INTO THE MIDST OF THE THRONG OF VILLAGERS ROUND HER, AND WITH ONE BLOW OF HIS CLENCHED HAND STRUCK her insensible to the earth. A cry of “shame! shame!” arose, and a young man stepping forward, exclaimed,— “UNMANLY RUFFIAN! HOW DARED YOU STRIKE THE WOMAN? YOU KNOW AS WELL AS ALL WE THAT SHE IS MAD. ANDREW BRITTON, YOU ARE A COWARD, AND well you merit your name of ‘The Savage.’” “Down with the savage!” cried several. “He has killed poor Mad Maud,” said one. “IS SHE NOT ALWAYS CRYING OUT AGAINST ME?” GROWLED THE RUFFIAN. “IS THERE ANYTHING TOO BAD FOR THE OLD BELDAME TO SAY OF ME, ANDREW Britton?” “NOT DEAD! NOT DEAD!” SUDDENLY CRIED SHE WHOM THE VILLAGERS CALLED MAD MAUD, SPRINGING TO HER FEET. “MIND YE ALL, ANDREW BRITTON IS TO DIE before I do. Ha! Ha!—Not dead! To the Smithy—to the Smithy.” She darted off in the direction of the blazing house, and, as if by one impulse, the villagers followed her, shouting,— “To the Smithy—to the Smithy!” THE BUILDING, WHICH WAS IN FLAMES, HAD AT ONE TIME EVIDENTLY BEEN OF A MUCH HIGHER CHARACTER THAN ITS PRESENT APPEARANCE WARRANTED. IT CONSISTED OF A LARGE UNINHABITED HOUSE, WITH TWO WINGS, ONE OF WHICH HAD BEEN CONVERTED INTO A SMITHY, AND WAS IN THE OCCUPATION OF ANDREW Britton, the smith, who stood high in favour of the then Squire Learmont, whose property the old house was. THE FIRE WAS IN THE OTHER WING TO THAT WHICH HAD BEEN CONVERTED INTO A SMITHY, AND WHEN THE VILLAGERS ARRIVED THEY FOUND IT SO ENVELOPED IN flames, that any attempt to save it seemed perfectly in vain. “Blood—blood is spilling,” cried Mad Maud, rushing close to the flaming building. “I heard it. A deed of blood! Hark!—hark!” The villagers were horror-stricken by hearing piercing shrieks coming from the interior of the burning house. “There!” cried the maniac exultingly; “that’s a death cry. Ha! Ha! Ha! Brave work—brave work. Andrew Britton, where are you?” “Here,” cried the smith. “Look at me, all of you, and swear hereafter you saw me here while—while—” “While the murder was doing!” cried Maud. “Murder?” said the villagers, as if with one voice. “Drivelling idiot!” roared Britton. “By—” BEFORE THE OATH COULD ESCAPE HIS LIPS, THERE DASHED FROM AMONG THE BURNING RUINS A FIGURE WHICH MIGHT WELL STRIKE TERROR INTO EVERY HEART. IT was that of a man, but so blackened and scorched was he by the fire that he scarcely looked human. “Help! Help!” he screamed. “Murder! Murder!” Every heart was paralysed as he dashed into the centre of the throng, screaming with pain. “The child! The child!” he screamed. “The child of the dead—save her! Save her!” Many hands were immediately stretched forward to take from his arms an infant that the villagers now perceived he carried. He resigned his charge, and then flinging his arms above his head, he cried,— “Save me—save me from myself—from the glance of the dead man’s eye—from blood save me. Oh, save me from CONSCIENCE. THE HELL HAS begun.” HIS LAST WORDS RUNG FAINTLY ON THE EARS OF THE HORRIFIED CROWD, FOR HAVING GIVEN UP THE CHILD, HE THEN BOUNDED ONWARDS, AND WAS SOON LOST TO sight and hearing in the darkness of a plantation which grew on the border of the stream that watered the valley. BRITTON, THE SMITH, GLARED WITH EYES OF FURY AFTER THE SHRIEKING FUGITIVE, THEN CLENCHING HIS HAND, HE SHOOK IT WILDLY IN THE AIR, AND BREATHING A bitter curse, turned from the burning portion of the house, and dashed into the wing in which was the Smithy. CHAPTER II. THE LULL OF THE TEMPEST.—MORNING IS COMING.—THE CHILD OF MYSTERY.—THE NECKLACE.—A SURPRISE AND A DISAPPEARANCE.— THE INSCRIPTION.—THE LORD OF LEARMONT. THE STARTLING AND SINGULAR EVENTS AT THE OLD SMITHY HAD THE EFFECT OF DISTRACTING IN SOME MEASURE THE ATTENTION OF THE AFFRIGHTED INHABITANTS OF Learmont from the fury of the tempest, which was still raging, although with diminished rage, around their humble dwellings. The forked lightning was not so frequent in its flashes, and the thunder seemed to be passing away in the direction of the wind. STILL IT WAS A NIGHT OF TERROR, AND IT WAS NOT UNTIL THE WIND HAD SENSIBLY ABATED, AND A FEW HEAVY DROPS OF RAIN FELL SPLASHING UPON THE GROUND, that the peasants ventured to re-enter their dwellings, with a hope that the storm had done its worst. THE CHILD WHICH HAD BEEN BROUGHT FROM THE BURNING HOUSE, IN SO AWFUL AND MYSTERIOUS A MANNER APPEARED TO BE LITTLE MORE THAN ONE YEAR OLD, AND IT WAS PERFECTLY UNKNOWN TO ALL IN THE VILLAGE; NEITHER COULD ANY ONE GIVE A GUESS AS TO WHO THE STRANGE MAN COULD BE, WHO WITH SUCH FRANTIC cries of pain and remorse, had appeared for a moment amongst them. THE WING OF THE ANCIENT BUILDING IN WHICH THE FIRE HAD ORIGINATED, ALONE HAD SUFFERED FROM THE CONFLAGRATION. IT LAY A HEAP OF SMOULDERING RUINS, but the rest of the large rambling habitation, including the Smithy, was quite uninjured. THE CHILD WAS SURRENDERED BY COMMON CONSENT TO THE CARE OF A KIND-HEARTED WOMAN, BY THE NAME OF DAME TATTON, WHO WAS A WIDOW. SHE looked with an eye of trembling pity upon the little innocent who nestled in her bosom in sobbing fear. THE LITTLE GIRL, FOR SUCH SHE WAS, SHOWED EVIDENTLY BY HER ATTIRE THAT SHE HAD BEEN IN THE CARE OF THOSE OF A FAR HIGHER RANK IN LIFE THAN THE KIND- hearted, but humble cottager, who now strove to allay her childish terror. Around the neck of the infant was a small necklace of pearls, and about its attire generally there were ample indications of wealth. THE LITTLE INNOCENT SOON SOBBED ITSELF TO SLEEP UPON THE BREAST OF DAME TATTON, AND THE VILLAGE GOSSIPS, AFTER RESOLVING IN THE MORNING TO GO IN A BODY TO THE SQUIRE LEARMONT AND ASK HIS ADVICE, OR RATHER COMMANDS, CONCERNING THE DISPOSAL OF THE BABE THAT HAD BEEN SO MYSTERIOUSLY thrown upon their hands, dispersed to seek that repose they were so much in need of. EVERY ONE NATURALLY THOUGHT THAT ANDREW BRITTON, THE SMITH, KNEW SOMETHING OF THE MYSTERIOUS MAN AND THE CHILD; BUT NONE WOULD VENTURE TO the dwelling of “The Savage,” as he was generally called, to make an inquiry, for his ferocity was too well known not to be universally dreaded. THE STORM HAD NEARLY GONE. A HEAVY FALL OF RAIN WAS SPLASHING ON THE MEADOWS, AND BEATEN DOWN VEGETATION, AND ALL WAS STILL IN LEARMONT TILL the morning’s sun rose on the wreck which the tempest had made in the green valley that the day before was redolent of peace and plenty. Young and old then sought the cottage of Dame Tatton. They knocked at first gently, then more loudly, but no one answered. “MY MIND MISGIVES ME,” CRIED THE YOUNG MAN WHO HAD THE PRECEDING EVENING SPOKEN SO BOLDLY TO THE SMITH—“MY MIND MISGIVES ME; BUT there is something wrong. Let us force the door, my masters.” “Nay, Frank,” said an old man. “The widow sleeps soundly after the storm. Ye are too hasty—far too hasty, Frank Hartleton.” “NAY TO THEE!” CRIED THE IMPETUOUS YOUTH. “’TIS BUT A BROKEN PANEL AT THE UTMOST, AND WE DO FORCE THE DAME’S DOOR, AND THAT WE CAN ANY OF us mend again. What say you masters?” “Aye, truly,” replied a little man with a red night-cap—“spoken truly—most sagely spoken.” “But will the squire approve of it, think ye?” suggested one. “By my shears I thought not of that,” murmured the little man, who was the garment fashioner of Learmont. “Knock again,” cried several. Frank Hartleton knocked loudly, and shouted,— “Dame Tatton—Dame Tatton, I say; hast taken a sleeping draught?” No voice replied. All was as still as the grave within the cottage. FRANK NOW PLACED HIS FOOT AGAINST THE FRAIL DOOR, AND WITH ONE VIGOROUS PUSH HE SENT IT FLAT UPON THE EARTHEN FLOOR OF THE COTTAGE, AND immediately striding over it, he entered the humble dwelling. THE VILLAGERS HESITATED FOR A MOMENT, IN ORDER TO BE QUITE SURE THERE WAS NO IMMEDIATE DANGER IN FOLLOWING FRANK HARTLETON, AND THEN THEY quickly thronged the little cottage, which could boast of but two small apartments, so that the whole interior was in a very few minutes examined. The cottage was tenantless. Dame Tatton and her infant charge had both disappeared.