CHAPTER XIV I AM TAKEN PRISONER, AND AFTERWARD EXPERIENCE MANY STRANGE THINGS--I AT LENGTH FIND MYSELF IN A DUNGEON

There was nothing at first sight very striking about Mr. John Wesley's appearance. He was, I thought, rather undersized, and I at that moment failed to see what there was about him to cause so much commotion. And yet as I looked again I could not help being impressed with the calm strength which shone from his eyes. He seemed to possess a power unknown to most men. Had I, Jasper Pennington, been brought face to face with such a crowd, I should have challenged the strongest man there to come out and let us fight a fair battle, but Mr. Wesley seemed only desirous to do good. He spoke calmly and with much assurance about our being sinners, and being children of hell, but that we could be saved from everlasting perdition by believing in Christ, who had appeased God's anger toward us.

Now, I am not a critical man, but even at that moment I could not quite see his meaning, for it seemed as though God were divided against Himself, and that God the Son felt differently toward us from what God the Father felt, and this, to an unlearned man like myself, brought only confusion. Moreover, as he spoke, while I could not help admiring his courage, and vowing in my heart that all one man could do to defend him I would do, I felt that he was not altogether a lovable man. He spoke with a sort of superiority which I did not admire, while he seemed to think greatly of himself. I know it sounds like presumption for me, an obscure, ignorant man, to write this, especially when I think of the good he has done; nevertheless, such thoughts came into my mind as I watched him. Perhaps his consciousness of his power over the multitudes merely gave him a confidence which I did not understand, or perhaps the fact that he was one of the principal men of the age made him feel his importance, for I think a man must be more than human if, talked about as Mr. Wesley has been, he does not become possessed of great esteem for himself.

After he had been talking a few minutes, however, I forgot all this. His little form seemed to dilate with a strange life, and many evil men groaned, as if with anguish. His voice became more and more resonant, and presently a touch of tenderness, which was at first absent, mingled with his tones.

Before long that great crowd became subdued, and then I realised the power of the human voice, of true courage, and of a good life; for I believe that the mob realised, although they might not be able to put their thoughts into words, that this man was gifted with an influence which can only come by means known to those who live with God.

After he had been speaking some time a clergyman, accompanied by some of the principal people of the town, spoke to the people, and he so angered them that I believe injury would have been done had not the town officials been present. Even with their presence Mr. Wesley seemed in great danger, and so, in my anxiety to help him, for he had stirred my heart greatly during the latter part of his address, I came to his side.

"No man shall touch Master Wesley," said I.

He looked up at me, for I think I was about a foot taller than he, and he said, "Thank you, young man."

"Whither would you go?" I said. "I will walk by your side, and will let no man harm you."

"I thank you," he repeated. "God hath evidently gifted you with great strength. Use it for His glory. I will accept your escort to Mrs. Maddern's house, but I have a strength which is omnipotent on my side. I will trust and not be afraid."

Even as he spoke I felt how true were his words, and then we walked down the street toward the sea, he continuing to preach most of the time.

When we reached the door of Mrs. Maddern's he said, "What is your name, young man?"

"Jasper Pennington," I replied.

"It is an old Cornish name," he replied, and then, looking into my eyes, he said, "Is your heart at peace with God and man—especially with man?" This he asked meaningly.

I did not answer him, for it occurred to me that the town officials who walked with him had told him who I was, although I had not heard.

"Trust in the Lord and do good, Jasper Pennington," he said, quietly, "so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. Delight thyself also in the Lord, and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart."

Then he went into the house, and I felt as though a benediction rested upon me.

I waited outside with the crowd, expecting him to come out again, but after a time they heard that he had got into a boat from the back of the house, for the sea came up close to the back of the house, and by this means he was able to escape, mingling with the crowd again.

It was now well on to six o'clock in the evening, but being summertime the light was still bright; indeed, the sun was yet high in the heavens. So I left the people who wanted to have a last look at Mr. Wesley, and who found their way to the seashore in great numbers. I went slowly toward Humphry Bolitho's shop, musing upon what the great man had said to me, but thinking far more of my meeting with Naomi. It is true I was too excited to understand its real significance, but the impression left upon me was gladsome, and, although my prospects seemed dark, my heart beat high with hope. Perhaps the peaceful words that Mr. Wesley had spoken to me made me rejoice, but the fact that Naomi had spoken kindly to me was that upon which my mind rested most fondly.

When I got to Humphry Bolitho's shop I looked eagerly inside, as though I expected to see Naomi there, but only strangers were within the building, and then I came to the spot where, a year before, I had been publicly degraded, and where I had first seen my love. Then my mind and heart were full of bitterness, and yet perhaps the piteousness of my condition had caused her to think kindly of me. And so, even at the place of my degradation, I hoped that my enemies' deeds might work out for me an exceeding great reward. Neither did I feel so bitterly toward the Tresidder family. I still determined to win back my own and to fulfil my promise to my father, but I wished my enemies no harm. Even then I wondered whether John Wesley's words were not a prophecy, providing I would fulfil the conditions.

But this feeling did not last long. I began to picture the danger Naomi was in; I thought of Nick Tresidder trying to persuade her to marry him; I thought of the threats that might be used; I called to mind the power of the woman who had persuaded my grandfather to be unkind to his only son, and then I was afraid, for if Naomi married Nick, what joy should I have in life; ay, what would Pennington be to me? It would seem only an empty tomb, while my heart would be eaten out with vain longings even to the end of my days; for such is the mystery of life, and such is the value of a woman's life to the man who loves her. I had seen Naomi only a few times, while I had had but little intercourse with her, and yet she was more to me than aught else. But for her I think I should have given up hope, and when hope is gone all is gone.

I went back toward the sea again, musing over my hopes and my difficulties, when I saw Israel Barnicoat stumbling along the street, seemingly intoxicated. Not wishing to be seen by him, I went into an inn to escape him and to get some refreshments, for I remembered that I had eaten nothing since morning. The landlord of the inn, John Snell by name, had known me in my more prosperous days, and he asked me to come into the parlour, which he assured me was empty. So, desiring quiet, I accepted his invitation. I had been there perhaps an hour, and I was planning what I should do that night when John Snell came into the room and brought me a letter.

"A booy 'ave jist brought it, Maaster Jasper," he said.

"A letter for me!" I cried, in astonishment.

"Iss; ther's your naame top of it, edn't et?"

I read the inscription—"Jasper Pennington, Esquire."

Now the word "Esquire" set me wondering; moreover, it set my heart a-beating hard, for I thought I recognised the writing, and yet I was not sure.

I did not break the seal because, although John Snell seemed friendly toward me, I did not wish him to be present when I read the missive, for I hoped that Naomi was the writer.

Presently John left me alone, and then I anxiously read and re-read the words which had been written. They were very few, but they made my heart burn with great joy, for they told me that I might soon see my love again. This is what was written:

"If you would help me, meet me to-night at Pendennis Castle gates at the hour of ten. I would then tell you what was impossible for me to say at Humphry Bolitho's shop. If you love me, do not fail; I am in greater danger than you think. If you fail our only hope is gone."

Now, as I said, I read this letter many times, and pondered greatly over its contents. I made up my mind I would not fail, for the letter told me of Naomi's love and Naomi's danger. The thought of speaking to her without hindrance was joy beyond all words; so much joy did I feel, indeed, that I thought not of where Naomi was when she wrote it, or how she was to escape her guardian while she spoke to me. Enough that her own hands had penned these lines to me, while the joy coming from the thought that she sought my help made me incapable of thinking clearly. I was sure that her hands had traced these lines, for I compared them with the other letter I had received from her, and which I carried with me wherever I went; and so long before the hour of ten I made my way toward Pendennis Castle. The little town was nearly asleep. No sounds reached me save those of revellers in some kiddleywinks near the shore. As I walked along many doubts came to me. By what means would Naomi reach the castle gates? Who would accompany her? for I could not think she would come alone. What was the reason she was staying in Falmouth over night? And, above all, how would she elude the vigilance of those who guarded her?

Had I long to wait I have no doubt that many more questions would have arisen in my mind, for in spite of my joyful anticipations my mind began to clear, and I thought of many things which did not come to me as I read the letter. Besides, try as I might to throw off the feeling, a great dread laid hold of me, and I began to look anxiously around me, as if fearful of my surroundings.

Below me, in the near distance, the waves swished on the shore, while out at sea, perhaps a mile, I could see the lights of a ship twinkling. But for the musical sound of the waves all was silent; the night was clear and bright; the moon's beams played with the sea, making the waves shine like diamonds. Even although my mind was filled with many doubts, I felt that I had seldom seen a fairer night, and I dreamed of leading Naomi to the lanes outside the town and telling her again of my love.

Presently I came to the drawbridge near the castle gates. I knew it was nearly ten o'clock, but it might want a few minutes to the hour, so I went and leaned against the castle walls.

I thought I heard a whisper, for my ears were eager to catch the sound of my love's footsteps; so I went back to the gates again; then I heard a quick shuffling of feet, and before I could turn around my arms were pinioned, my eyes were bandaged, and some woollen substance was thrust into my mouth.

I saw now what the letter meant. It was not written by Naomi at all, and in my heart I cursed myself as a blockhead for being so easily duped. I heard the gruff voices of men, and among others I felt sure I heard that of Israel Barnicoat. For some few minutes, although my hands were pinioned, I struggled fiercely, but it was of no use; besides, I heard a threatening voice near me saying, "You be quiet, Jasper Pennington, or you'll be thrawed over the cliff. Doan't 'ee make no mistake now!"

I could not speak, neither could I see, so I became passive, and they led me along a road which I knew descended. The sound of the waves became nearer and nearer, so I judged we were going to the sea. In this I was correct. A few seconds later I heard the sound of paddles, and then I was half led, half lifted into a boat.

I tried to get the woollen material with which I had been gagged out of my mouth, for it made me sick; moreover, I found it hard to breathe, but I tried in vain. So I bore up as well as I could, wondering where I was to be taken and what was to become of me. I did not think they meant to kill me, or they would have thrown me over the cliff at Pendennis Point, so I came to the conclusion that Cap'n Jack Truscott's gang had got hold of me, and that they would take me to Kynance. I listened eagerly to hear the sound of his voice, but could not; but I felt sure I had heard Israel Barnicoat's, and this confirmed me in my opinion.

I was angry at this, not so much for myself as for Naomi. Never until then did I feel how much she was in Richard Tresidder's power; never did I feel so certain as then that every means would be used to marry her to his son. And I had vainly thought that I would stay near to help her, and that I would save her from the power of my enemies. Now, however, a few hours after I had come back to Cornwall, I was taken a prisoner.

I sat upright in the boat. On each side of me sat a man holding me, while two men rowed. There were others near me, as I knew by the sound of their voices; how many I did not know. After I had sat thus for perhaps half an hour the rowing ceased, and I felt our boat thump against some hard substance, and by the movement of the men I knew that some new steps were to be taken.

A few seconds later I heard sounds above me; then my hands were loosed, but the bandage was not taken away from my eyes.

"Stand upright," said a voice.

I stood upright.

"Lay 'old ov this."

A piece of rope was put in my hand.

"You've got 'old of a rope ladder. Now climb."

I felt with my hands, and discovered that the man had spoken truly. I knew it was useless to disobey, so I started to climb. In a few seconds I felt my arms grasped by hard hands, and I was dragged on to the deck of a vessel.

I made no sound; I could not, for I was still gagged.

"Come weth wee."

I knew by the dialect that Cornishmen still spoke, and a few seconds later I felt myself descending a stairway with two men holding me.

By the motion I judged that I was on a pretty large vessel, and this caused me to wonder greatly, for a large vessel would not be needed to take me to Kynance, neither would Cap'n Jack use one for such a purpose. I then thought I must be in the hands of the press-gang, and this was not altogether unpleasant, for I thought I might be able to escape, or use means whereby I should be able to communicate with Naomi.

A few seconds later I knew that I was enclosed in some sort of a cabin, and then I felt a great relief, for my gag was pulled from my mouth. I tried to speak, but I could not; my tongue seemed swollen and my throat was parched, but it was pleasant to me to be able to breathe freely.

At length I made a great effort.

"Why am I taken here?" I asked.

No one spoke.

"What have I done that I should be treated thus?" I asked. "I have harmed no man. I arrived in Falmouth only yesterday. What is your will with me?"

Still no one spoke.

"Pull the bandage from my eyes and let me see, I cried. I said this because two men still held my arms firmly, but no one moved to do my bidding.

"Then give me something to drink," I cried—"water; my throat is parched, and burns like fire."

"Yes, you shall drink," said a voice.

A few seconds later I heard the sound of bottles clinking, and then the gurgle of something being poured therefrom.

"Here is something to cool your mouth. Here it is—fine stuff. Drink it quickly, drink it all."

I felt a goblet placed against my lips, and a strange odour rise to my nostrils. I thought it smelt like rum, and a sickly feeling came over me.

"Drink quickly," said the same man who had spoken before; "it will do you good."

I feared to drink, and I shut my teeth firmly, but a great sickness came over me, and I could not keep my mouth closed, and some of the liquid was poured on my tongue. It was pleasant to the taste and delightfully cooling to my tongue, and so thirsty was I that I drank the contents of the goblet, thankful for such a refreshing beverage.

"You feel better now, don't you?"

"Yes," I said; "take away the bandage, and I shall be all right."

No sooner had I spoken than I staggered, and should have fallen had not I been kept up by the men who still held my arms.

"You are not so well, after all," I heard some one say. "You had better lie down."

I yielded to the pressure upon my body, and felt myself falling; a great roaring sound came into my ears, and then I realised that I was lying on some sort of couch.

My senses, I was sure, were departing from me, and I had a vague idea that I was falling through unlimited space, while wild winds and loud thunders were all around me; then all became a great blank.

How long I remained unconscious I do not know, neither can I tell whether the experiences through which I thought I went had any objective reality.

This was what I thought or dreamed happened to me. For a long time all was a perfect blank, except that I was left alone in darkness and allowed to rest in peace. Even now I have a vague remembrance of a delicious restfulness that came to me; every particle of my body seemed to be in repose, while all desire departed. By-and-by light seemed to come to me—a strange, weird light. I was moving, not by any action of my own, but unknown forces were carrying me through balmy air. Strange, shadowy creatures flitted around me, while I thought I heard the sound of distant music, as though ten thousand voices were singing.

This, I said, is death.

My eyes, I knew, were closed, and yet I could see. By an inward power of sight I could plainly discern the shadowy creatures around, and I remember interesting myself in trying to discern their faces. Presently one more than all the rest became plain. At first I thought it was Naomi's, so fair was it, but I soon discovered that I was mistaken. The woman was cast in a larger mould than Naomi, and looked more matronly.

She looked at me with infinite tenderness, and kept close to my side all the time.

"Speak," I said to her; "tell me who you are."

But she shook her head.

Then it seemed to me as though dark, evil forms came near, and a man with a face like Richard Tresidder's said, "Let him die; we shall never be safe while he is alive." But the woman seemed to surround me like a mantle of light, and lo! my enemies were powerless to touch me. Time after time did murderous weapons seem to come close to me, but the form of the woman received every blow, and yet they did not harm her.

"This woman bears a charmed life," was the thought that came into my mind, and I longed greatly to know who she was.

Then another form came near. I saw my father.

"Jasper," he said, "this is your mother. She is always near you. This is a mother's joy, ever to be near her loved ones. She will protect you."

"Mother," I cried, "kiss me."

Her face came closer and closer to mine, and then for the first time I knew of a mother's love and felt a mother's kiss.

"Be brave, and pure and true, Jasper, my son," she said; "fear not even in the valley of the shadow of death. Delight thyself in the Lord, and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart."

After that a great darkness fell upon me again, yet through the darkness I could see the luminous form of my mother, with love shining from her eyes, and her hand pointing upward.

After that I felt as though I were on a stormy sea. The ship in which we sailed tossed like a cork, while the waves, foam-crested, hurled themselves furiously on our bark. A great panic seized the ship's crew, and they gave themselves up for lost. But for myself I had no fear. A great benign influence was around me, and I felt as safe as a babe rocked on its mother's breast, while the wild winds that roared seemed as sweet as the lullaby of a mother to a tired child.

For a long time the darkness continued, and then, when all hope seemed to have departed from the ship's crew, I saw a twinkling light. Then I felt rough hands around my body, while evil eyes gleamed; but I still saw the love-light shining from my mother's eyes, and I heard a voice saying, "He must not suffer harm."

Then all was a perfect blank.

* * * * *

When I awoke to consciousness I found myself in a small room. It was dimly lighted, and the air seemed cold and clammy. As my eyes became accustomed to my surroundings I saw that the walls were rough and unplastered. Above my head were huge beams, covered with thick, unplaned boards. Only one window was in the room. It was very small, and through the glass I could see iron bars. The window, I judged, was eighteen inches wide, and perhaps two feet high.

I was lying on a bed which was made of rough deal, and had evidently been knocked together hurriedly. But the clothes were clean and dry. Beside me was a table on which was a basin and some cups.

"Where am I, and how did I get here?" I asked myself.

For some time I had no remembrance of the past. Then events came to me in a dim, vague way. I remembered the letter which I thought was written by Naomi, and my journey to Pendennis Castle. But it seemed a long way off. It might have been years; I could not tell.

I tried to lift myself from my bed, but I could not, I was too weak. I looked at my hands; they were white like a woman's, and very thin.

"I must have been ill," I said; "but why am I here, and where am I?"

I listened intently, but all was silent as death. I longed for human voices, but I could hear none. No sound reached me but the roar of distant surf, but it was a strangely muffled sound.

"I am by the sea somewhere," I muttered; "but where?"

Then my heart gave a bound, for I heard the echo of distant footsteps. They sounded strangely, just as one's footsteps sound at night when walking through an empty church. They came nearer and nearer, until they came close to where I lay. Then I was sure that some one was coming to me.

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