Part 52 (1/2)

observed Blarden, ”let's see the keys--show them here.”

Chancey accordingly drew them from his pocket, and laid them on the table.

”There's the three of them,” observed he, calmly.

”Have you no more?” inquired Blarden, looking rather aghast.

”No, indeed, the devil a one,” replied Chancey, thrusting his arm to the elbow in his coat pocket.

”D--n me, but I think this is the key of the cellar,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Blarden, in a tone which energized even the apathetic lawyer, ”come here, Ashwoode, what key's this?”

”It _is_ the cellar key,” said Ashwoode, in a faltering voice and turning very pale.

”Try your pockets for another, and find it, or ----.” The aposiopesis was alarming, and Blarden's direction was obeyed instantaneously.

”I declare to G.o.d,” said Chancey, much alarmed, ”I have but the three, and that in the door makes four.”

”You d----d oaf,” said Blarden, between his set teeth, ”if you have botched this business, I'll let you know for what. Ashwoode, which of the keys is missing?”

After a moment's hesitation, Ashwoode led the way through the pa.s.sage which Mary and her companion had so lately traversed.

”That's the door,” said he, pointing to that through which the escape had been effected.

”And what's this?” cried Blarden, shouldering past Sir Henry, and raising something from the ground, just by the door-post, ”a handkerchief, and marked, too--it's the young lady's own--give me the key of the lady's chamber,” continued he, in a low changed voice, which had, in the ears of the barrister, something more unpleasant still than his loudest and harshest tones--”give me the key, and follow me.”

He clutched it, and followed by the terror-stricken barrister, and by Sir Henry Ashwoode, he retraced his steps, and scaled the stairs with hurried and lengthy strides. Without stopping to glance at the form of the still slumbering drunkard, or to question the servant who sat opposite, on the chair recently occupied by Chancey, he strode directly to the door of Mary Ashwoode's sleeping apartment, opened it, and stood in an untenanted chamber.

For a moment he paused, aghast and motionless; he ran to the bed--still warm with the recent pressure of his intended victim--the room was, indeed, deserted. He turned round, absolutely black and speechless with rage. As he advanced, the wretched barrister--the tool of his worst schemes--cowered back in terror. Without speaking one word, Blarden clutched him by the throat, and hurled him with his whole power backward. With tremendous force he descended with his head upon the bar of the grate, and thence to the hearthstone; there, breathless, powerless, and to all outward seeming a livid corpse, lay the devil's cast-off servant, the red blood trickling fast from ears, nose, and mouth. Not waiting to see whether Chancey was alive or dead, Mr.

Blarden seized the brandy flask and dashed it in the face of the stupid drunkard--who, disturbed by the fearful hubbub, was just beginning to open his eyes--and leaving that reverend personage drenched in blood and brandy, to take care of his boon companion as best he might, Blarden strode down the stairs, followed by Ashwoode and the servants.

”Get horses--horses all,” shouted he, ”to the stables--by Jove, it was they we met on the road--the two girls--quick to the stables--whoever catches them shall have his hat full of crowns.”

Led by Blarden, they all hurried to the stables, where they found the horses unsaddled.

”On with the saddles--for your life be quick,” cried Blarden, ”four horses--fresh ones.”

While uttering his furious mandates, with many a blasphemous imprecation, he aided the preparations himself, and with hands that trembled with eagerness and rage, he drew the girths, and buckled the bridles, and in almost less than a minute, the four horses were led out upon the broken pavement of the stable-yard.

”Mind, boys,” cried Blarden, ”they are two mad-women--escaped mad-women--ride for your lives. Ashwoode, do you take the right, and I'll take the left when we come on the road--do you follow me, Tony--and d.i.c.k, do you go with Sir Henry--and, now, devil take the hindmost.” With these words he plunged the spurs into his horse's flanks, and with the speed of a thunder blast, they all rode helter-skelter, in pursuit of their human prey.

CHAPTER LXI.

THE CART AND THE STRAW.

While this was pa.s.sing, the two girls continued their flight toward Dublin city. They had not long pa.s.sed Ashwoode and Nicholas Blarden, when Mary's strength entirely failed, and she was forced first to moderate her pace to a walk, and finally to stop altogether and seat herself upon the bank which sloped abruptly down to the road.

”Flora,” said she, faintly, ”I am quite exhausted--my strength is entirely gone; I must perforce rest myself and take breath here for a few minutes, and then, with G.o.d's help, I shall again have power to proceed.”

”Do so, my lady,” said Flora, taking her stand beside her mistress, ”and I'll watch and listen here by you. His.h.!.+ don't I hear the sound of a car on the road before us?”