It was more dark and lone, that vault,
Than the worst dungeon cell,
A hermit built it for his fault,
In penitence to dwell:
This den, which chilling every sense
Of feeling, hearing, sight,
Was called the Vault of Penitence,
Excluding air and light.
'Twas by an ancient prelate made
The place of burial for such dead
As having died in mortal sin
Might not be laid the church within.
'Twas next a place of punishment;
Where if so loud a shriek were sent,
As reached the upper air,
The hearers blessed themselves and said
The spirits of the sinful dead
Bemoaned their torments there.
—Scott.

There was opening from Lord Vincent's dressing room a bay window, having a balcony on the outside, overhanging the sea. The viscount took a night telescope, opened the window, and stepped out upon the balcony. He adjusted the glass and swept the coast. Nothing was to be seen but the solitary vessel that lay at anchor almost under the castle walls.

"The coast is clear," said the viscount to himself, as he re-entered the room and replaced the telescope.

Then wrapping himself in a large maud and pulling a slouched hat over his eyes, he left the room, descended the stairs and went out.

He took the way down to the sands at the extreme base of the promontory. The path that led down the side of the cliff was steep, slippery, and very dangerous even at noonday. And this was one of the darkest hours of the night that precedes the dawn. And the path was more perilous than ever. But the viscount was Highland-bred, and his step was as sure on the steep mountain edge as on the level plain. He reached the foot of the precipice in safety and stood upon the sands and drew from his pocket a small whistle, which he placed to his lips and blew a shrill call.

It was answered from the vessel at anchor. And soon a boat was put off from her side, and rowed swiftly to the shore.

"Is that you, Costo?" inquired the viscount of the man who jumped ashore.

"No, senor; it is Paolo."

"The mate?"

"Yes, senor."

"Where is Costo?"

"On board the vessel, senor."

"What have you brought this time?"

"Cuban tobacco, Jamaica spirits, and some rich West Indian fabrics for ladies' dresses. A cask of spirits and a box of cigars have gone up to the castle. Old Mr. Cuthbert took them in."

"All right; but I have some business now at hand that Cuthbert must know nothing about. For instance, he is in ignorance, and must remain in ignorance, of my visit to the beach to-night."

"We can be silent as the grave, senor."

"Have you had any trouble from the coastguard?"

"No, senor; how could we? Is not your excellency the protector of the poor?"

The viscount laughed.

"It is true," he said, "that the guards at the nearest station are in my power, and know better than to pry too closely into the concerns of any vessels that run into my castle cove; but beyond their domain I cannot protect you; so be cautious."

"We are cautious, senor. So cautious that we shall sail with the first tide."

"For Havana?"

"For Havana, senor."

"Well, now I wish you to take me to the vessel. I must see the captain."

"Surely, senor," said the obsequious mate, as the viscount stepped into the boat.

"Give way, men! Back to the brigantine," said the mate. And the men laid themselves to their oars, and soon reached the vessel's side.

Lord Vincent was received with the greatest respect by the captain, who came obsequiously to the starboard gangway to meet him.

"Let us go into your cabin at once, Costo; I have business to discuss with you," said the viscount.

"Surely, senor," replied the captain, leading the way down to a small, snug cabin.

It was flanked each side by two comfortable berths, and furnished with a buffet at one end and a round table and two chairs in the center.

"Will the senor deign to seat himself?" said the captain, offering one of these chairs to the visitor and taking the other himself.

There were decanters of spirits, glasses, cigars, pipes, and tobacco on the table.

"Will the senor deign to taste this rum, which is of fine quality, and try one of these cigars, which are at once so strong and so delicate of aroma?"

For an answer the viscount poured out a liberal portion of the spirits and quaffed it almost at a draught, and then lighted a cigar and commenced smoking. He smoked away for a few minutes, during which Costo waited respectfully for him to open communications.

At length the viscount spoke:

"Costo, in your island of Cuba able-bodied men and women of the negro race command good prices, do they not?"

"Yes, senor—great prices, since your illustrious statesmen have abolished the African slave-trade over all the ocean."

"For instance, how much would a fine young man, of say twenty-one years of age, bring?"

"From two to five thousand dollars, according to his health, good looks, and accomplishments. I have known a likely boy of fourteen to sell for three thousand dollars. He is now one of the best cooks on the island."

"Humph! then I should say the one I speak of would bring near the highest price you have named. How much would a healthy, handsome girl of eighteen bring?"

"Mulatress or quadroon?"

"Oh, neither. She is a negress, black as the blackest satin, but with a skin as smooth and soft—a Venus carved in jet."

"From a thousand to two thousand dollars, perhaps, as she is a negress but if she were a mulatress she would bring more, or if a quadroon most of all—other things being equal."

"And how much would a stout, healthy, strong-minded woman of fifty bring?"

"That depends upon other circumstances, senor. If, together with her health and intelligence, she should be a good housekeeper and nurse, as women of her age are apt to be, why, then she might bring from nine to twelve hundred dollars."

"Well, Costo, I have three such negroes as I have just described to dispose of."

"Yes, senor? But you are English and this is England!" exclaimed the buccaneer in amazement.

"Scotch—and Scotland. But, no matter—it amounts to the same thing.
Will you buy my negroes at a bargain?"

"Pardon, senor, but I do not understand. I thought there was no buying and selling of slaves in England."

"Of course there is not. And there is no free trade in England. Both negro-trading and smuggling are illegal. Yet, as you manage to drive a pretty profitable business in the latter, you might speculate a little in the former. Eh?"

"But, pardon, senor. I am not in the slave-trade."

"What of that? When such a splendid opportunity of doing a fine stroke of business offers, you might step aside from your regular routine of trade to make a considerable sum of money, might you not?"

"If the senor would condescend to explain himself I might understand the affair he proposes to me. I do not yet comprehend how he can have slaves to sell in England," said the captain respectfully.

"Perhaps another would not be able to understand how you manage to import articles upon which heavy duty is laid, free of all duty whatever?" said the viscount, indulging in a sneer.

"If the senor would deign to make his meaning clear?"

"Well, the senor will endeavor to do so. Though more depends upon your perspicacity than his perspicuity. Can you comprehend that when I was on a visit to the States I married a young American lady, who owned a large number of slaves, who, of course, passed into my possession from the marriage day?"

"Oh, yes, senor; that is easily understood."

"Three of these slaves, the three of which I have just spoken, being favorites of their mistress, attended her to this country."

"And became free from the moment they touched English ground, senor; for such is English law."

"We are not talking of law—though I suppose there is as much law for slavery as there is for smuggling. But the less you and I say about law the better. So just suppose we leave law entirely out of the argument."

"With all my heart, senor; if the senor desires it to be left out."

"'The senor' does. So now, then, we shall get along better, These three negroes are at Castle Cragg. At your own estimation, the lot must be worth eight thousand dollars—sixteen hundred pounds in our money; now you shall have them for six hundred pounds—that is, three thousand dollars of your money; and you will thereby make a profit of one thousand pounds, or five thousand dollars, which is nearly two hundred per cent. Come, what do you say?"

"Senor, we are to leave law out of the argument?"

"Of course."

"Then, if I had these negroes on board this vessel, which is to sail with the morning tide, I would give the senor his price for them."

"You shall have them all on board within the hour."

"Good! but, pardon, senor, a thought strikes me!"

"What is it?"

"Since these negroes are favorite servants of the illustrious
Senora?"

"What then?"

"She will not consent to part with them."

"Her consent is as unnecessary as the sanction of the law. It is just because they are favorite servants—petted, pampered, and spoiled servants—that I wish to part with them. Such servants are nuisances in the family circle."

"The senor is right, always right! but—shall we have any difficulty with the negroes?"

"None whatever. You will take them in their beds."

"Will they not make an outcry and bring the house upon us?"

"My excellent but too cautious friend, did you never hear of chloroform?"

"Surely, senor."

"It is one of the greatest blessings modern science has conferred upon us. It not only saves much pain in surgical operations, but in other operations it actually saves life. The experienced burglar now, when he enters a house for the purpose of robbery, instead of cutting the throat of a wakeful inmate, simply administers chloroform, and soothes his restlessness so perfectly that he falls into a happy state of insensibility, while he, the burglar, pursues his calling undisturbed and at leisure."

"Well, senor?"

"Well, don't you understand? I will conduct you and such of your men as you can trust to the castle; admit you secretly; lead you to the bedside of the negroes, who are sure at this hour to be in a deep sleep; administer the chloroform to send them into a deeper one; and so transport them to the vessel."

"And by that time we will be ready to raise anchor and sail. And when our sleepers awake we shall be safely on our way to Cuba."

"Exactly. But no time is to be lost. Will you go now?" inquired the viscount, rising.

"Certainly," said the captain, and he went on deck to order the boat manned to go on shore.

In a few minutes it was reported ready, and the captain, the mate, and two sailors whom they supposed they could rely upon, entered it. In a very few minutes they reached the shore and left the boat.

"Leave the two sailors here with the boat; the mate will be sufficient for our purpose," said the viscount.

The captain gave the necessary directions to the boatmen. Lord Vincent, Captain Costo, and Paolo went up the narrow pass leading to the top of the cliff and entered the castle courtyard.

"Your boots are heavy; they might awaken the household, even at this hour of its deepest sleep; you must put them off here," whispered the viscount.

It was no sooner said than done. The men cast off both shoes and stockings and stood in their bare feet.

"We must keep them dry to put on again," said the mate, as he stuffed the stockings into the boots.

Then, silent as death, they stole into the castle and glided along the dark, deserted halls and up its staircases.

The viscount paused before the door of Mrs. Dugald's boudoir, and taking the maid's pass-key from its hiding place, softly unlocked and entered the room, beckoning his companions in crime to follow.

Silently he stole across the room, drew aside the crimson-satin hangings, exposed the oak-paneled walls, and touched a spring.

A secret door opened, revealing a narrow flight of stairs. Making a sign for his companions to follow, he descended.

Down many narrow flights of stairs, through many winding labyrinths, along many dark passages, the sailors followed their leader, until far down in the deepest foundations of the castle they reached a large, circular stone crypt, with many rusted iron doors around it, leading into little dungeons. On one side of this horrible place was a rude stone altar with an iron crucifix. In the center was a block. It was probably a vault which in the old and dark ages had been used for a place of secret imprisonments, executions, and burials.

Lord Vincent flashed his lantern around upon the scene and then went up to one of the grated doors, unfastened it, and entered the dungeon.

It was a small stone cavity, a hard hole, where it seemed impossible for a human being to live and breathe for an hour. And yet poor old Katie, with the wonderful tenacity of life which belongs to the pure African, had clung to existence there ever since the hour when, seeming dead, she had been dragged from the apartments of Faustina to this hideous vault.

So you see he had deceived Faustina into the belief that Katie had died in the vault from the effects of chloroform.

By the dim light of the lantern her form could now be seen squatted in the corner of the dungeon. Her knees were drawn up, her arms folded on them, and her head buried in them. She had fallen asleep; probably after long watching and fasting and the effects of mental and physical exhaustion. The entrance of the viscount did not awaken her.

"This is the woman; I was obliged to confine her here for a violent assault upon a lady of my family. She is fast asleep; but to attempt to remove her might awaken her; so we will make all sure by sending her into a deeper sleep," whispered the viscount, drawing from his pocket first a bottle of chloroform and then a piece of sponge, which he proceeded to saturate with the liquid.

But it required tact to apply it. Katie's face was buried in her arms. So he first put the lantern out of the way where it could not shine upon her, and then went and gently lifted Katie's head with one hand while he applied the sponge near her nose with the other.

"Yes, chile; I tink so too—my ladyship—whited saltpetre—Bottomy Bay," muttered Katie, who was sleeping the deep sleep of her race, and probably dreaming of her lady and her lady's dangers.

The viscount laid her head back on his own breast, put the chloroform sponge to her nose, and fitted his own slouch hat over her face in such a manner as to confine the fumes.

Poor old Katie's wide nostrils soon inhaled the whole of the deadly vapor, which acted with unusual power upon her exhausted frame, so that she speedily lay as one dead.

"Take her up! make haste! There is a shorter way out of this vault; but I could not bring you here by it because it is fastened on this side," said the viscount, leaving the den.

The captain and mate went in, and raised old Katie's unresisting form in their arms, and followed the viscount, who led them from the vault into a long stone passage, at the end of which was a door, fastened on the inside with a chain and padlock.

The viscount unlocked this door, which opened out into a rocky cave, through which they passed to an intricate, winding, and rugged labyrinth, which finally led out into the open air, on the beach near which the boat was left.

The captain and mate laid down their burden, and stretched their limbs, and took a long breath. The viscount beckoned the boatmen to approach, and they came. Then turning to the captain, he said:

"You had better order these men to take this woman immediately to the boat, and carry her across to the vessel, and lock her up in some place of safety. Then they can return for us; and in the meantime we will return to the castle for the other two."

"Yes, senor," said the captain; and he promptly gave the order.

The viscount waited until he saw Katie safely in the boat and half across on her way to the vessel, and then he beckoned his companions to follow him, and led the way back to the castle.

This time he conducted them to an old turret that had been appointed to the use of Lady Vincent's servants; it was remote from the sleeping apartments of the other domestics. The locks were without keys.

"We will take the man first," said Lord Vincent, softly opening an old oaken door and leading them into a small circular room, scantily furnished, where, upon a rude bedstead, lay poor Jim in a profound sleep. He was a fine subject for their villainous practices. He was lying on his back, with his head stretched back over his pillow, his eyes fast closed, and his mouth wide open. One touching incident in the appearance of this poor fellow was the presence of two large tears on his cheeks. He had probably lain awake all night, and just cried himself to sleep over the fate of his mother, whom his loyal heart loved so faithfully.

The viscount applied the chloroform, and Jim's sleep sunk into insensibility. The captain and the mate then raised him in their arms and bore him from the room and through the many passages and down the many stairs, and along the great hall to the outside of the castle.

They had a hard time getting him down the cliff. But they accomplished the task at last. They found the boat returned and the boatmen waiting patiently for their arrival.

"Captain, the tide serves," said one of these men.

"I know it, Jacques. We will sail in half an hour. Where did you put the woman?"

"I locked her in your cabin for the present, captain."

"Did she recover her senses?"

"No, captain."

"The devil! I hope she won't die."

"No danger, Costo; they lie insensible under the influence of chloroform sometimes for hours, and then recover in a better condition than they were before," said the viscount, hazarding an opinion on a subject of which he knew very little. "But, now, order the sailors to convey this man to the vessel and then return once more for us."

"Pardon, senor. We had better bind him first. If he should recover before he reaches the vessel he might jump out and make his escape," replied the captain, drawing a large silk handkerchief from his pocket and tying the hands of the captive firmly behind his back.

"Lend me yours, Paolo," he next requested, holding his hands out for the required article.

With this second handkerchief twisted into a rope the captain firmly tied together the feet of the captive.

Jim was now as effectually bound as if his fetters had been iron or rope; but he was beginning to show signs of recovery. The viscount saw this and applied the chloroform again, and Jim relapsed into insensibility. In this condition he was conveyed into the boat and rowed swiftly to the vessel.

Meanwhile Lord Vincent and his confederates in crime retraced their steps up the cliff.

"We must be very quick this time, for the household will soon be astir," whispered Lord Vincent eagerly, as he noticed on the eastern horizon the faint dawn of the late winter morning.

They entered the castle, which, luckily for them, was still buried in repose, and wound their circuitous way back to the turret where the last victim, poor Sally, lay.

The viscount opened the oaken door and preceded his companions into her chamber.

But, oh, horror! Sally was awake and up! She was seated on the side of her bed and in the act of putting on her shoes. On seeing the viscount enter she raised her eyes and gazed in dumb amazement.

He lost no time. Like a wild beast he sprang upon her before she could utter a cry.

Throwing one arm around her throat, with his hand upon her mouth, he forced her head back against his breast and applied the chloroform until she succumbed to its fatal power and sunk like a corpse in his arms.

Then his two accomplices took her, and by the same winding route of halls, stairs, and passages carried her out of the castle and down to the beach, where the boat was waiting to receive her. They put her into it, and the viscount, the captain, and the mate followed. In three minutes they reached the vessel, and all went on board, taking the captive girl with them.

The viscount accompanied the captain to his little office and received the six hundred pounds in gold which was the price of this last infamy.

Then the accomplices shook hands and parted.

The sailors rowed the viscount back to the shore, and then returned to their vessel. The viscount stood on the beach, watching the brigantine until she raised her anchor and made sail. And then, as it was growing light, he turned and climbed the cliff and entered the castle, wearing a smile of triumph.