IN FOUR CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER IV. It was not long past noon when I alighted before the door of the Ship and Anchor at Lleyrudrigg. But instead of entering that inn, I waited merely until Jonathan had driven the dog-cart to a stable-yard round the corner, and then walked away at a quick pace towards the beach. Arrived there, I collected a number of fishermen whom, in accordance with my anticipations, I found loitering about the sands, and told them my story. I did so in as clear and succinct a manner as possible, commencing with an account of Mr John Williams's suspicious conduct, and proceeding in regular order to its termination. The narrative, however, was frequently interrupted by excited exclamations from the sturdy Welshmen, and its progress considerably delayed by the necessity for interpretation to those amongst them who did not understand English. By the time it was finished quite a small crowd had gathered around me; and when finally I made an appeal for assistance in rescuing Mr Morgan from his dangerous situation, a dozen stout fellows volunteered to accompany me to the spot. Thanking them with no hypocritical cordiality, I inquired, albeit with some doubt, whether conveyance for so large a party could be obtained in the village. Unhesitatingly a chorus of voices assured me in reply that the best and speediest method of returning to the Spike Rocks would be by sea—one of the sailors adding the agreeable intelligence, that with wind and tide both in our favour as they were at present, we might hope to reach them in little over an hour. The suggestion meeting, as I need scarcely say, with my delighted approval, a friendly contention ensued as to which of the fishing-smacks offered by their respective owners for the purpose should have the honour of making the little voyage. But The sailor who had made it proved to be not far wrong in his calculation as to the length of time it would take to reach our destination. Exactly one hour and a quarter after quitting Lleyrudrigg we landed, with some difficulty, a little beyond the bird-haunted crags, and at once started, almost at a run, for the farther of the two 'Devils' Holes,' the seamen, by my direction, carrying with them a coil of strong rope. But although upon attaining it, we all shouted in concert, urging my reverend friend to make some sign from his place of concealment, no response was given to the summons. And when time after time it had been repeated without other result than a series of echoes, loud enough to be heard above the din of the restless waters below, I could see some of the men beginning to look at me askance; then gradually upon the faces of one or two the air of questioning doubt gave place to an angry scowl; and from certain low mutterings which reached my ear, I gathered that an impression was beginning to be formed that I was either mad, or that I had mischievously brought them upon a fool's errand. Determined at once to alter this state of affairs, I adopted what, with my sensitiveness to giddiness, was certainly a bold measure. Requesting that the rope might be fastened about my waist, I directed my companions to lower me to the spot in which I asserted that I had seen the minister. Reassured by the confidence implied in this step, the men obeyed; and accordingly, I shortly found myself swinging within that awful chasm, with the rope vibrating to and fro, and a deafening roar coming up from beneath. Presently my feet touched the slanting granite shelf described in the previous chapter, and immediately I felt them slip from under me; then, as the rope paid out with a jerk, I slid downwards through a narrow opening into a minute cave in the rock, and lay there for a few moments stunned by the violence of a blow which my head had received in the fall. Upon recovering consciousness, I found myself resting upon the body of my friend; and moving so as to obtain a view of his face, I soon discovered why there had been no reply to our reiterated calls. The little minister—I saw it with deep thankfulness—was still alive, but his ears had been rendered obtuse by the delirium of a raging fever. His eyes, wide open, were fixed upon the roof of the tiny cavern, and though, upon my addressing him, they wandered during several seconds over my countenance, it was without the slightest sign of recognition. He commenced a rigmarole of rambling disconnected sentences, at all times painful to hear from the lips of the poor sufferer from a perturbed brain, but which, uttered in that weird and awful place, was naturally invested with double horror. My fingers trembling in the attempt, I now hastened to undo the rope from about my own person, in order that I might secure it round that of Mr Morgan. But owing to the opposition offered by the unconscious man, the task proved to be one of no small difficulty. At length, however, it was accomplished; and signing to those above to draw in the rope, I gently guided the body of the little Welshman through the entrance to the cavern, noticing as I did so that his right leg was fractured and terribly swollen. Not caring to witness the perilous ascent, I remained within the cave until a loud 'Hurrah!' proclaimed his safe arrival upon terra firma. Then scrambling out, I watched the rope re-descending, once more adjusted it round my waist, and in a few moments afterwards was kneeling by my friend's side upon the grass, and at the request of the excited fishermen, searching his pockets for the huge wash-leather purse of which I had spoken to them. Its absence, as well as that of his watch and chain, appeared to settle beyond question in their minds the fact that there had been foul-play; and a motion emanating from one of their number that we should take the law into our own hands, and proceed to arrest the farmer and his family, was unanimously carried. Accordingly, leaving Mr Morgan under the care of a couple of the elder men, we adjourned in a body to the Spike Rock Farm; but only to find it, to our extreme mortification, entirely untenanted. Evidences, however, of hasty flight existed in such abundance, that we could not but conclude that its late inmates had only just departed. And confirmation of this supposition was not wanting; for one of the sailors, gazing from an upper window, presently espied, far down the winding lane up which I had yestere'en driven, a mass of heads progressing rapidly, but with a jolting kind of motion, as though their owners were being carried along in a spring-cart or some such vehicle. Drawing the obvious inference that our large party must have been seen by the criminals, surrounding the supposed grave of their victim, and that conscious guilt having excited their alarm, they were now endeavouring to escape from the justice which would follow detection, we consulted with each other as to what it were best to do. The result of the conference was a decision to take the vessel farther round the headland, to a small town where better accommodation could be found for the sick man than at Lleyrudrigg, and in the vicinity of which was a station of coast-guardsmen. This resolution being promptly carried out, Mr Morgan was conveyed upon landing to a comfortable hotel, where a physician was speedily At the following summer assizes, Abel, Robert, and Thomas Williams were condemned to suffer the full penalty of the law; Jonathan Williams the hunchback and the farmer's remaining sons received sentences of imprisonment of more or less severity; whilst to the landlord of the Ship and Anchor was awarded the well-merited punishment of transportation for life. A few sentences will now suffice to complete my story. At the urgent request of the good couple, to whom I had become sincerely attached, and to whom indeed my services for the journey were, I thought, almost indispensable, I consented to return with them to their home. I did not, however, when giving that consent, intend to remain longer than one evening at Pwlwyn—my leave of absence from my duties having long since expired. But strange to say, when a full week had elapsed I was still lingering in that small and in itself unattractive Welsh village; and it was not until an entire change in my sentiments and in all my prospects for life had been wrought by my visit, that I eventually left it for Ollyhill. During the time she had spent at the hotel whilst engaged in nursing her husband, and especially when upon the way home, Mrs Morgan had made frequent allusion in my presence and in terms of the highest praise to a certain young cousin under whose charge she had left her house and children. But little did I dream that that cousin—the Lily whose name I had so often heard repeated—was my Lily—Lily Thornton! Such, however, upon arriving at Pwlwyn, I found to be the case; and in the surprise and uncontrollable joy of that unexpected meeting, I knew that I, in fact that both of us, had betrayed ourselves. Then followed days full of a bliss so sweet, that resolve as I would, I could not forego it, when in the delightful consciousness of tacitly confessed love, Lily and I wandered forth together, seeking the shady woods and conversing in confiding tones—principally about nothing. At length there came a certain sunny afternoon when, seated side by side upon a rustic bridge, we bent in silence over a little babbling stream, our heads coming into closer and closer proximity, until in the end, with a sudden movement, 'our spirits rushed together in the meeting of the lips.' After that, as any person of the slightest experience in such matters will readily believe, it was—to use a slang phrase—all up with me. I left that bridge an affianced man; and upon returning to Ollyhill I resigned my curacy; and upon receiving Squire Thornton's somewhat reluctant consent to my engagement with his daughter, I obtained a situation in a mercantile house in Liverpool, the principal of which was an uncle of my intended bride. With indefatigable industry I laboured for two years to earn for myself a good position; and at the close of that time took to my bosom, for weal or woe, the wife for whose sake I had quitted the Church and joined the Merchants' Service. In conclusion, the events I have here faithfully related, involve a virtue which every one ought to endeavour to practise—the virtue of Presence of Mind. In cases of sudden peril, a moment or two of calm thought on the part of one person, has frequently been the means of saving not only his own but the lives of his fellow-creatures. In the case of a theatre on fire, or in a runaway carriage, he (or she) who has the presence of mind to sit still, has the best chance of saving his (or her) life. In my case, feigning sleep probably saved mine. |