CHAPTER VI. "By the pricking of my thumbs, SHAKSPEARE. THERE is nothing in England so variable as its climate. Before the succeeding night, the very remembrance of the storm seemed to have passed away from the placid waters, which now slept in the moonbeams as tranquilly as a cradled child; the sea-bird's scream no longer whistled through the air, and the small waves murmured their gentle music along the strand. Nature was hushed and happy; but the tranquillity of external objects had little effect upon the mind of Burrell, as he strode to his trysting with the bold Buccaneer. Yet were there no outward tokens that he apprehended aught from the meeting; for, excepting the sword, usually borne by persons of all ranks and professions during the dynasty of Oliver, he was completely unarmed, The place appointed was appropriately described as “Under the Cavern, It was known to Dalton's more intimate associates, and the Cavaliers, who had from time to time obtained security therein; but, if its bare, bleak walls had been gifted with speech, they might have rehearsed such tales of rapine and plunder as few writers would venture to record. The cavern appeared, to those who might wander along the sea-shore, to be but a deep and natural excavation into a huge rock, the western extremity of which ran out into the ocean, and therefore compelled the traveller to ascend a kind of artificial steps, in order to pass to the other side: the beach was, consequently, but little frequented, as leading to no necessary point, and as the inhabitants of the adjoining cottage, with which our readers are already familiar, had taken especial care to form several paths in various directions from its door, but none leading down to this part of the neighbouring cliffs, it was but rarely that the whiteness of the rocks was defaced by any foot save that of the daring bird from whom it received its name, and by whom it was regarded as his own natural and undisputed property. Whether the cavern into which we are about to enter was originally framed by some freak of nature, or was the invention and subsequent accomplishment of art, we are unable to determine. Like many a structure better formed to endure for ages, it has been long swept away by the encroachments of the sea, which, since the period we write of, has been gradually gaining upon the land. Even at the present moment, there are old men dwelling in the neighbourhood who can remember houses and cornfields where now a proud ship may ride at anchor. From time to time, without the slightest warning, some immense rock falls, and mingles with the ocean, which soon dashes aside every trace of its existence, leaving merely a new surface, to vanish in its turn under the inluence of a power, silent and patient, but inevitable and unconquerable. Immediately as the moonlight was left behind, the cavern became high and arched, as if either nature, or some skil ful workman under her superintendence, had foreseen to what important purposes it might be applied. Huge masses of flint, and still larger fragments of granite, were scattered about as if by giant hands, yet without any seeming attention, to order or regularity. The initiated, however, well knew that such was not the case. Burrell, immediately on entering, proceeded to the farther extremity, and kneeling, placed his mouth to the ground, and gave a loud, sharp whistle: he then stood erect, at a little distance from the spot on which he had knelt. Presently, what appeared a lump of gray stone, moved upwards, then aside, and the head and shoulders of a man from beneath, sprang into its place so suddenly, as to have appeared the work of magic. He leaned a little on one side, to permit Burrell to descend; and the next minute the cavern seemed as if no human step had ever disturbed its solitude. Six or eight rugged stairs brought the knight into a low but spacious apartment, from which there was no apparent exit except by an arched doorway, where the commencement of a spiral ascent was visible, leading almost perpendicularly into the secret room of the widow Hays' small hostelry, in which our acquaintance, Jack Roupall, and his friends had been concealed, and which, it may be here stated, served other purposes than to afford comfort and entertainment to the wayfarer. It may also be observed, that, if at any time the widow's house was suspected of harbouring dangerous or outlawed persons, and consequent search was made under its roof, those to whom concealment was either convenient or necessary, had a ready sanctuary in the cavern beneath, where they might either tarry until assured of safety, or whence they could easily escape on board one of the free traders, which rarely passed a week without a call of inquiry at some point along the coast. The cavern was, therefore, known to many, for many were they to whom it had been a shelter and a safeguard. Not so the inner temple (if we may so apply the term) to which Burrell now sought admission through a door, with the nature of which only some half a dozen were acquainted. To them the secret had necessa◄ rily been confided, but under the most awful oaths of secrecy, and a terrible pledge that the life of him who might reveal it was to be at all times and in all places at the disposal of any one of those who shared with him a knowledge. so fearful. The door before which Burrell paused, was, in its way, a masterpiece of art: it consisted of a mass of clay and flint, so skilfully put together, that the most acute searcher, even though he possessed the certainty of its existence somewhere, must have failed to discover it from among the natural lining of the rude but extensive cave. A low and gentle whistle was answered by a like signal, and the door was drawn gradually inwards, until sufficient space was afforded to permit Burrell to pass into a large space, but less raw and wild than that from which he had just entered. In one corner of this singular hall, rose a motley pile of musketry, rifles, hand-grenades, basket and cross-hilted swords, steel cuirasses, which, from their rude and sullied condition, appeared to have suffered much and hard service; buff, and other coloured doublets, breast-plates, shoulderbelts, with gilt and plain buckles; manacles, some rusty, others of glittering brightness: the muzzle of a small brass swivel projected from beneath a number of flags and emblems of various nations, rolled together with a degree of amity to which their former owners had long been strangers. Over these again were heaped cloaks, caps, feathers, and trappings, enough to form the stock wardrobe of any theatre, present, or to come. Nor were there wanting thumb-screws and other instruments of torture, often unsparingly exercised upon those who hid their treasure, or retained secrets they were desired to betray. Near to this miscellaneous assemblage rose another heap, the base of which appeared to consist of some half score of elephants' teeth, rough hemp, fragments of huge cable, cable-yarn, and all manner of cordage; rolls of lewxerns', matrons', and leopard-skins; wolf-skins, "tawed, and untawed;" girdles of silk, velvet, and leather; and on pegs, immediately over, hung half a dozen mantles of miniver, and some wide ro bings of the pure spotted ermine. Upon a huge sea-chest were heaped bales of costly Brabant, Overyssels, and other rare linens, mingled with French and Italian lawns of the finest texture; Turkish camlets, satins of China and Luca, plain and wrought, and many other expensive and highlytaxed articles. Delicious odours were diffused through the chamber from various cases of perfume, musk, ambergris, and the costly attar; while along the north wall were ranged different-sized casks of Nantz brandy, Hollands, and Jamaica rum; giving to the whole the appearance of a vast storehouse. An enormous chafing-dish, filled with burning charcoal, stood near the centre, and, in a deep iron pan was placed a keg of oil, a hole having been driven into its head, through which a sort of hempen wick had been introduced; it flared and blazed like an overgrown flambeau, throwing a warm and glowing light over the entire wild yet well-filled apartment. But the most singular portion of the garniture of this most singular cave consisted of a number of " Oliver's Acts," pinned or nailed against the walls. If Dalton had been Lord Chief Justice, he could not have displayed a more minute attention to the products of legal sittings than distinguished his private chamber: here was set forth on goodly parchment, "An Act for the Security of his Highness the Lord Protector, his person, and Continuance of the Nation in Peace and Safety;" there, " An Act for Renouncing and Disannulling the pretended Title of Charles Stuart, &c., at the Parliament begun at Westminster the 17th day of September, anno Domini 1656," with the names "Henry Hills" and "John Field, Printers to his Highness the Lord Protector," in large letters at the bottom, together with divers others, chiefly, however, relating to the excise. Hugh Dalton rose from his seat, and laid his enormous pipe on a pile of ebony logs, that answered the purpose of a table, when Sir Willmott Burrell saluted him with more civility than he usually bestowed upon inferiors: but, despite his outlawry, and the wild course his life had taken, there was a firm, bold, and manly bearing about the Buccaneer, which might have overawed far stouter hearts than the heart of the Master of Burrell. His vest was open, and his shirt-collar thrown back, so as to display to advantage the fine proportions of his chest and neck. His strongly-marked features had at all times an expression of fierceness which was barely redeemed from utter ferocity by a pleasant smile that usually played around a well-formed mouth; but when anger was uppermost, or passion was subdued by contempt, those who came within reach of his influence, more dreaded the rapid motion or the sarcastic curl of his lip, than the ter rible flashing of eyes that were proverbial, even among the reckless and desperate men of whom he was the chief, in name, in courage, and in skill. His forehead was unusually broad; thick and bushy brows overhung the long lashes of his deeply-set eyes, around which there was a dark line, ap parently less the effect of nature than of climate. The swarthy hue of bis countenance was relieved by a red tinge on either cheek; but a second glance might have served to convince the gazer that it was the consequence of unchecked dissipation, not a token of ruddy health. Indeed, notwithstanding the fine and manly character of his form and countenance, both conveyed an idea of a mind ill at ease, of a conscience smitten by the past and apprehensive of the future, yet seeking consolation in the knowledge of good that had been effected, and of more that remained to be done.' Years of crime had not altogether obliterated a natural kindness of heart; he appeared as one who had outraged society and its customs in a thousand forms, yet who knew there was that within him by which he was entitled to ask and expect a shelter within her sanctuary; and when a deep flush would pass over his features, and his blood grow chill at the recollection of atrocities at which the sufferers in a score of lands had shuddered as they talked, he endeavoured to still the voice that reproached him, by placing to the credit of his fearful account some matters to which we may hereafter more distinctly refer. It was before such a man that Burrell of Burrell now stood, and by whom he was addressed. 66 My piping-bird, good sir, told me you wanted me; and though somewhat inconvenient at this present time, here I am. Won't you sit? This is no lady's lounging room; yet we can find seats, and costly ones too," he added, pushing a chest of spices towards his visiter. "Then you were not at sea, Captain?" observed Burrell, seating himself, and unclasping his cloak. "I did not say so," replied the other, bringing his bushy brows more closely over his eyes, and glancing suspiciously upon the questioner. "Oh, no; I only imagined it." "Well, sir, I was not at sea, and I care not who knows it." "But, my worthy friend, we have been acquainted too long for you to fear my 'peaching aught concerning you or your doings." "And did I talk of fear?" inquired the Buccaneer, with a droll and yet bitter expression. "Well, if I did, I only follow, as Robin would say, the example of my betters, by talk ing about what I don't understand." |