Everett-Green Evelyn
The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn: A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot
"Thou wilt be witness to our espousals, good cousin," he said gaily, as he led his betrothed to the porch, where the crowd made way for them right and left, seeing well the purpose for which these gentlefolks had come. It pleased them mightily that this fine young forester with his air of noble birth, and this high-born maiden in her costly riding dress, should condescend to come before the priest here in their own little church porch, and plight their troth as their own young folks were doing.
A hush of eager expectation fell upon the crowd as Culverhouse led his betrothed love before the priest; and when the ring, bought from an old peddler who always attended at such times and found ready sale for his wares, was placed on Kate's slim finger, a murmur of applause and sympathy ran through the crowd, and Kate quivered from head to foot at the thought of her own daring.
The thing was done. She and Culverhouse had plighted themselves in a fashion solemn enough to hinder any person from trying to make light of their betrothal. Right or wrong, the deed was done, and neither looked as though he or she wished the words unsaid.
But Kate dared not linger longer. Cuthbert fetched her palfrey, and Culverhouse lifted her to the saddle; and hiring a steed from a farmer for a brief hour, promising to bring it back in time for the good man to jog home again at dusk, the newly-plighted pair rode off into the forest together, he promising to see her to within sight of her own home before taking a last adieu.
Cuthbert stood looking after them with a smile on his lips.
"Now, if Heaven will but speed my quest and give me happy success, I trow those twain may yet be wed again, no man saying them nay; for if sweet Mistress Kate can but bring with her the dower the treasure will afford, none will forbid the union: she will be welcomed by Lord Andover as a fitting wife for his son and heir!"
Chapter 13: The Gipsy's Tryst
"This is surely the spot. Methinks she will not fail me. Moonrise was the hour she named. I will wait with what patience I may till she comes to keep the tryst."
So said Cuthbert to himself as, at the close of that long and varied day, he stood at the mouth of a natural cave, half hidden by tangled undergrowth, which had been appointed months ago by Joanna the gipsy as the place where on May Day evening she would meet him, and tell him more of the matter so near to his heart.
Culverhouse and he had parted company when the former had escorted towards her home the lady of his choice, to whom his troth had been so solemnly plighted a short while before. The young Viscount was going to make his way rapidly to London again; but Cuthbert purposed a long stay in the forest. The search for the lost treasure might be a matter of weeks, possibly of months. But he was very well resolved not to give it up until the search had been pursued with unabated zeal to the last extremity, and he himself was fully satisfied as to its fate. Nothing but actual knowledge that it had been dissipated and dispersed should induce him to abandon the quest.
Standing at the mouth of the cave, leaning against the rocky wall, and enjoying the deep solitude of the forest and its tranquil stillness, Cuthbert revolved many matters in his mind, and it seemed more certain than ever that the finding of the treasure alone could save him and many that he loved from manifold difficulties and perplexities. How that treasure would smooth the path and bring happiness and ease to the Trevlyn family! Surely it was well worth a more vigorous search than had long been made! Cuthbert took from his pocket the bit of parchment containing the mystic words of the wise woman, or her familiar spirit, and perused them again and again, albeit he knew them well nigh by heart.
"Thou art here! It is well."
Cuthbert started at the sound of the rich, deep tones, and found himself confronted by the queenly-looking gipsy. He had not heard her approach. She seemed to have risen from the very ground at his feet. But he was scarcely surprised. She had the air of one who could come and go at will even upon the wings of the wind.
"I am here," answered Cuthbert, making a courteous salutation. "I thank thee that thou hast not forgotten the tryst."
"I never forget aught, least of all a promise," answered Joanna, with her queenly air of dignity. "I come to strive to do my share to atone a wrong and render restitution where it is due. What paper is that, boy, that thou studiest with such care?"
Cuthbert handed her the scrap of parchment. He did not know if she would have learning to decipher it; but the writing appeared to have no difficulties for her. She read the words in the clear light of the May evening, albeit the sun had set and the crescent moon was hanging like a silver lamp in the sky; and as she did so she started slightly, and fixed a keenly penetrating glance upon Cuthbert.
"Where didst thou get these lines, boy?"
"They were given me by a wise woman, whom I consulted to see if she could aid me in this matter."
"A wise woman! And where didst thou find her?"
"In London town, where she practises her arts, and many come unto her by secret. She is veritably that which she professes, for she told me the object of my quest ere I had told mine errand to her."
"But thou hadst told her thy name?"
"Yes, verily, I had done that."
"And knowing that, she divined all. Verily thou hast seen Esther the witch! And this was all she knew-this was all she knew!"
Joanna's head was bent over the parchment. Her eyes were full of fire. Her words seemed addressed rather to herself than to Cuthbert, and they excited his ardent curiosity.
"And who is Esther? and dost thou know her? thou speakest as if thou didst."
"All of us forest gipsies know Esther well. She is one of us, though she has left the forest to dwell in cities. According to the language of men, she is my aunt. She is sister to old Miriam, whom thou sawest in the forest mill, and who would have done thee to death an I had not interposed to save thee. And Miriam is my mother, albeit I am her queen, and may impose my will on her."
"And does she know aught of the lost treasure?" asked Cuthbert, with eager impatience.
"I had hoped she did," answered Joanna slowly, her eyes still bent on the paper. "I have seen her myself since I saw thee last. I have spoken with her on this same matter. I could not draw from her what I strove to do; but I see now that I prepared the way, and that when thou didst go by chance to her, she was ready for thee. But if this is all she knows, it goes not far. Still it may help-it may help. In a tangled web, no one may say which will be the thread which patiently followed may unravel the skein."
"Belike she knows more than she would say," suggested Cuthbert quickly. "If she can look into the future, sure she may look into the past likewise-"
But Joanna stopped him by a strange gesture.
"Peace, foolish boy! Thinkest thou if gipsy lore could unravel the riddle, that it had not long ago become known to me? We have our gifts, our powers, our arts, and well we know how to use them be it for good or ill. But we know full well what the limits are. And if men know it not, it is more their blindness than our skill that keeps them in ignorance. And if they give us more praise and wonder than we merit, do they not also give us hatred and enmity in like meed? Have we not gone through fire and sword when men have risen up against us and called us sorcerers? Have we not suffered for our reputation; and do we not therefore deserve to wear it with what honour we may?"
The woman spoke with a strange mixture of bitterness, earnestness, and scorn-scorn, as it seemed, almost of herself and of her tribe, yet a scorn so proudly worn that it scarce seemed other than a mark of distinction to the wearer. Cuthbert listened in amaze and bewilderment. It was all so different from what he had looked for. He had hoped to consult an oracle, to learn hidden secrets of which the gipsies had cognizance through their mysterious gifts; and, behold, he was almost told that these same gifts were little more than the idle imagining of superstitious and ignorant men.
"Then canst thou tell me nothing?" he asked.
"I can tell thee much," was the steady answer, "albeit not all that thou wouldst know; that will still be thine to track out with patience and care. But these lines may help; they may contain a clue. I wonder how and where Esther learned them! But come within the cave. The evening air grows chill, and I and thou have both walked far, and stand in need of refreshment. All is ready for us within. Come; I will lead the way."
Joanna stepped on before, and Cuthbert followed. He had thought the cave a small and shallow place before, but now he discovered that this shallow cavity in the rock was but the antechamber, as it were, to a larger cavern, where twenty men might sit or lie at ease; and the entrance to this larger place was through a passage so narrow and low that none who did not know the secret would think it possible to traverse it.
Cuthbert wondered if he were letting himself be taken in a trap as he followed the gipsy through this narrow way; but he trusted Joanna with the confidence of instinct which is seldom deceived, and presently felt that they had emerged into some larger and wider place. In a few moments the gipsy had produced a light, and the proportions of the larger cavern became visible. It was a vaulted place that had been hollowed out of the ruddy sandstone either by some freak of nature or by the device of men, and had plainly been adapted by the wandering gipsy tribes as a place of refuge and resort. There were several rude pieces of furniture about-a few pallet beds, some benches, and a table. On this table was now spread the wherewithal for a modest repast-some cold venison, some wheaten bread, a piece of cheese, and a flagon of wine. Cuthbert, who had fared but scantily all that day, was ready enough to obey the gipsy's hospitable invitation, and seated himself at the board. She helped him liberally to all that was there, but appeared to want nothing herself; and whilst Cuthbert satisfied his hunger she commenced the tale, part of which in its bare outline was already known to him.
"Thou knowest the story of the witch burned on the village common, nigh to Trevlyn Chase, by the order of the knight then ruling in that house? Dost know too that that woman was my grandam, the mother of Miriam and of Esther?"
"I knew that not," answered Cuthbert.
"But so it was," pursued Joanna, her big dark eyes fixed upon the flickering flame of the lamp she had kindled. "I never saw my grandam myself; she had met her doom before I saw the light. Yet I have heard the tale so ofttimes told that methinks I see myself the threatening crowd hooting the old woman to her fiery death, the stern knight and his servants watching that the cruel law was carried out, and the gipsy tribe hanging on the outskirts of the wood, yet not daring to adventure themselves into the midst of the infuriated villagers, watching all, and treasuring up the curses and maledictions poured upon the proud head of Sir Richard as the old woman went to her death."
"A cruel death, in all truth," said Cuthbert. "Yet why hold Sir Richard in fault? He was not the maker of that law; he was but the instrument used for its enforcement, the magistrate bound to see the will of the sovereign performed. Most like he could not help himself, were his heart never so pitiful. I trow the Trevlyns have always done their duty; yet I misdoubt me if by nature they have been sterner or more cruel than other men."
A faint smile flickered round the lips of the gipsy. She went on with her story without heeding this plea.
"They had made shift to see her once before her death-my mother, my father, and Esther with them. Upon those three she had laid a solemn charge-a charge to be handed down to their children, and passed throughout all the tribe-a charge of deadly hatred to all that bore the name of Trevlyn-a charge to deal them one day some terrible blow in vengeance for her death, a vengeance that should be felt to the third and fourth generation."
"I have heard somewhat of that," said Cuthbert.
"Ay, the old woman raved out her curses in the hearing of all as she was fastened to the stake and the flames leaped about her. All heard and many treasured up those words, and hence the tradition always in men's mouths that the treasure of Trevlyn was filched by the gipsy folks in fulfilment of that curse. But now another word. My grandam laid another charge upon the tribe and all who claimed kindred with her; and that charge was that all should give loving and watchful care and tender service to the house of Wyvern; that all bearing that name should be the especial care of the gipsies-they and their children after them, whether bearing the old name or not. The Wyverns had been true friends to the gipsy folk, had protected them in many an hour of peril, had spoken them gently and kindly when all men else spoke ill of them, had given them food and shelter and a place to live in; and to my grandam had given a home and sanctuary one bitter winter's night, when, pursued by foes who strove then to get her into their hands and do her to death, she flung herself upon their charity, and received a welcome and a home in her hour of peril and sore need. It was beneath the roof of the Wyverns that Esther first saw the light; and in gratitude for their many acts of charity and kindness my grandam, ere she died, laid instructions on all who owned her sway that the Wyverns and all descended from them should be sacred to the gipsies-watched over and guarded from all ill."
"Ah!" said Cuthbert, drawing a long breath; "and shortly after that a Wyvern wedded with this same Sir Richard."
"Ay, and that but just one short month before his house was to have been burned about his head, and he himself slain had he come forth alive. All the plans were laid, and it was to be done so soon as he should return to the Chase after long absence. Long Robin had planned it all, and he had a head as clever and a will as firm as any man that ever lived. He had thought of all-he had everything in order; and then came the news that the knight had wed with Isabel Wyvern, the tenderest, the sweetest, the gentlest maiden that ever drew breath; and when they knew that, even Long Robin knew that no hand could thenceforward be raised against the knight."
"Long Robin-who is he?" questioned Cuthbert eagerly.
"He is Miriam's husband-my father," answered Joanna, a strange shadow passing across her face.
"And does he yet live?"
The gipsy paused and hesitated.
"Ask any other member of the tribe, and they will tell thee that he does; but for me, I do not know, I cannot tell."
Cuthbert looked at her in amaze.
"Not know, and he thy father!"
A curious smile crossed her face.
"We think little of such ties amongst the gipsy folk. The tie betwixt us all is stronger than the simple one of blood. We are all of one race-of one stock; that is enough for us. The lesser is swallowed up of the greater."
"But thy mother lives; she must know?"
Joanna's dark eyes glowed strangely.
"Ay, she verily must know; but will she tell what she knows? If it be as I suspect, she must be in the plot."
"What plot?" asked Cuthbert, beginning to feel bewildered with all this intricacy of mystery.
"Thou hadst better hear my story to the end," answered Joanna with a slight smile; "then thou wilt better comprehend. Listen to me, and ask thy questions when I have done."
"Speak on, then," said Cuthbert, glad enough to hold his peace; "I will give good heed to all thou sayest."
And Joanna continued her tale.
"Sir Richard, wedded to Isabel Wyvern, might no longer be the mark for the gipsy's curse. Esther was then queen of the tribe, and with her, love for the Wyverns far outweighed hatred towards the Trevlyns. She gave it out that no hair of his head should be hurt; the vengeance must wait. If it were to be carried out, it must be upon another generation. So said the queen, and none dared openly lift the voice against her; but there were angry mutterings and murmurings in the tribe, and none were more wroth at this decree than Miriam and Long Robin."
"Her sister and that sister's husband."
"Ay. Long Robin was the head of the tribe, and loved not to yield to the sway of a woman; but amongst us there has always been a queen, and he was powerless to hinder the rest from owning Esther's rule. But he and Miriam withdrew in wrathful indignation for a time from the rest of the tribe, and brooded over schemes of vengeance, and delighted themselves in every misfortune that befell the house of Trevlyn. It was whispered by many that these two had a hand in the death of more than one fair child. If their beasts sickened, or any mischance happened, men laid it to the door of Miriam and Long Robin. But for mine own part, I trow that they had little to do with any of these matters. Trouble is the lot of many born into this world. The Trevlyns had no more than their fair share of troubles that I can see. One fine stalwart son grew up to manhood, and in time he too wedded into the house of Wyvern-married thy grandam the fair Mistress Gertrude, whose eyes thou hast, albeit in many points a Trevlyn."
"And what said Miriam then?"
"She liked it not well. Sullen, brooding hatred had gained possession of her and of Long Robin. As Esther and some of the tribe had learned to forgive Trevlyn for the sake of Wyvern, those twain and a few others had come to hate Wyvern for their alliance with Trevlyn.
"All this I have been told by Esther. I was not born till after the treasure had been stolen-born when my mother had long ceased to look for offspring, and had no love for the infant thrust upon her care. I was taken from my infancy by Esther, who trained me up, with the consent of all the tribe, to take her place as their queen when I should have grown to womanhood. Esther loved not the roving life of the forest; she had other wishes for herself. She practised divination and astrology and many dark arts, and wished a settled place of abode for herself when she could leave the tribe. She brought me up and taught me all I knew; and she has told me all she knows about that strange night on which the treasure of Trevlyn was taken-and lost!"
"Lost-lost by the Trevlyns truly; but surely thou dost not mean that they who stole it lost it likewise!"
Joanna's dark eyes were fixed. She seemed to be looking backwards to a far-distant time. Her voice was low and monotonous as she proceeded with her tale.
"The years had flown by since Miriam and Long Robin had divided themselves from the tribe; and they had long since returned, though still keeping aloof in part from the rest-still forming, as it were, a separate party of their own. Long Robin had dealings with the robbers of the King's highway; he often accompanied them on their raids, he and some of the men with him. The tribe began to have regular dealings with the freebooters, as thou hast seen. They come to us for shelter and for food. They divide their spoil with us from time to time. Since the hand of all men has been against us, our hands have been raised freely against the world. Our younger men all go out to join the highwaymen. We are friends and brothers, and the wronged and needy resort to us, and are made welcome."
Joanna threw back her proud head as though rejoicing in this lawless freedom; and then giving herself a little moment for recollection, she returned to the main course of her narrative.
"It was easy for us gipsies, roving hither and thither and picking up the news from travellers on the road, to know all that was going on about us and in the world beyond. We had scouts all over the forest. We knew everything that passed; and when the treasure was borne in the dead of night from Trevlyn Chase, and hidden beneath the giant oak in the forest, we knew where and wherefore it was so hidden, and the flame of vengeance long deferred leaped into Miriam's eyes.
"'This is our hour!' she cried; 'this the day for which we have had long patience! Thus can we smite the false Trevlyns, yet do them no bodily hurt; thus can we smite them, and lay no hand upon the house of Wyvern. It is the Trevlyns that love the red gold; the grasping, covetous Trevlyns who will feel most keenly this blow! Upon the gentler spirits of the ladies the loss of wealth will fall less keenly. The proud men will feel it. They will gnash their teeth in impotent fury. Our vow of vengeance will be accomplished. We shall smite the foe by taking away from him the desire of his heart, and yet lay no hand upon any who is loved by a Wyvern.'
"And this desire after vengeance took hold of all those gathered in the ruined mill that night, whilst into Long Robin's eyes there crept a gleam which Esther liked not to see; for it spoke of a lust after gold for its own sake which she had striven to quench amongst her children, and she wished not to see them enriched beyond what was needful for their daily wants, knowing that the possession of gold and treasure would bring about the slackening of those bonds which had hitherto bound them together."
Joanna paused, and looked long into Cuthbert's attentive face. He asked no question, and presently she continued:
"Esther laid this charge upon those who were to go forth after the treasure: They might move it from its present resting place, and hide it somewhere in the forest, as securely as they would; but no man should lay hands upon the spoil. It should be hidden away intact as it was found. It should belong to none, but be guarded by all; so that if the day should come when the Trevlyns should have won the love and trust of their whilom foes, we should have the power to make restitution to them in full."
Cuthbert started, and his eyes gleamed beneath their dark brows; but Joanna lifted her hand and continued:
"Remember I am telling the tale as I learned it from Esther. As she spoke those words she saw a dark gleam shine in Robin's eyes-saw a glitter of rage and wrath that told her he would defy her if he dared. The rest opposed her not. The wild, free life of the forest had not bred in them any covetous lust after gold. So long as the day brought food and raiment sufficient for their needs they asked no more. Men called them robbers, murderers, freebooters; but though they might deserve these names, there was yet much good in them. They robbed the rich alone; to the poor they showed themselves kindly and generous. They were eager to find and secrete this treasure, but agreed by acclamation that it should not be touched. Only Robin answered not, but looked askance with evil eye; and him alone of the eight men intrusted with the task did she distrust."
"Then why was he sent?"
"Verily because he was too powerful to be refused. It would have made a split in the camp, and the end of that might no man see. She was forced to send him in charge of the expedition; and he alone of the eight that went forth ever returned to the mill."
"What!" cried Cuthbert, "did some mischance befall them?"
"That is a thing that no man knows," answered Joanna darkly. "It is as I have said: Long Robin, and he alone, ever came back to the mill. He was five days gone, and men said he looked ten years older in those days. He told a strange tale. He said that the treasure had been found and secreted, but that the sight of the gold had acted like strong drink upon his seven comrades: that they had vowed to carry it away and convert it into money, that they might be rich for the rest of their days; and that when he had opposed them, bidding them remember the words of the queen, they had set upon him, had bound him hand and foot, and had left him to perish in a cave, whence he had only been released by the charity of a passer by, when he was well-nigh starved with hunger and cold. He said that he had gone at once to the place where the treasure had been hid, and had found all of it gone. The seven covetous men had plainly carried it off, and he prophesied that they would never be seen again."
"And they never were?"
"Never!" answered Joanna, in that same dark way; "for they were all dead men!"
"Dead! how came they so?"
"Listen, and I will tell thee. I cannot prove my words. The fate of the seven lies wrapped in mystery; but Esther vows that they were all slain in the heart of the forest by Long Robin. She is as certain of it as though she saw the deed. She knows that as the men were carrying their last loads to the hiding place, wherever that might be, Long Robin lay in wait and slew them one by one, taking them unawares and plunging his knife into the neck of each, so that they fell with never a cry. She knows it from strange words uttered by him in sleep; knows it from the finding in the forest not many years since of a number of human bones and seven skulls, all lying near together in one place. Some woodmen found the ghastly remains; and from that day forward none has cared to pass that way. It was whispered that it was the work of fairies or gnomes, and the dell is shunned by all who have ever heard the tale."
"As the lines say!" cried Cuthbert, in great excitement. "Thinkest thou that it is in that dell that the treasure lies hid?"
"Esther thinks so, but she knows not; and I have hunted and hunted in vain for traces of digging and signs of disturbance in the ground, but I have sought in vain. Long Robin keeps his secret well. If he knows the place, no living soul shares his knowledge. It may be that long since all has been removed. It may be he has vast wealth stored up in some other country, awaiting the moment when he shall go forth to claim it."
A puzzled look crossed Cuthbert's face. He put his hand to his head.
"Thou speakest of Robin as though he were yet alive, and yet thou hast said thou thinkest him dead. And there is Miriam-surely she knows all. I am yet more than half in the dark."
"None may wholly know what all this means," answered Joanna; "but upon me has Esther laid the charge to strive that restitution be done, since now the house of Trevlyn has become the friend and champion of the poor and oppressed, and the present knight is a very proper gentleman, well worthy of being the son and the grandson of the house of Wyvern. This charge she laid upon me five long years agone, when she bid the tribe own me their queen, for that her age and infirmities hindered her from acting longer as such. Ever since then I have been pondering and wondering how this thing may be done; but I have had to hold my peace, for if but a whisper got abroad and so came to Miriam's ears, I trow that the treasure, if still it lies hidden in the forest, would forthwith be spirited away once more."
"Then Miriam knows the hiding place?"
"I say not that, I think not that. I have watched, and used every art to discover all I may; and I well believe that Miriam herself knows not the spot, but that she knows it lies yet in the forest, and that when the hour is come she and Robin together will bear it away, and keep it for ever from the house of Trevlyn."
"But sure if they are ever to enjoy their ill-gotten gains it should be soon," said Cuthbert. "Miriam is old, and Long Robin can scarce be younger-"
"Hold! I have not done. Long Robin, her husband, was older by far than she. If the old man who goes by that name be indeed he, he must be nigh upon fourscore and ten. But I have long doubted what no man else doubts. I believe not that yon gray-beard is Robin; I believe that it is another who masquerades in old man's garb, but has the strength and hardihood of youth beneath that garb and that air of age."
"Marry! yet how can that be?"
"It might not be so hard as thou deemest. In our tribe our men resemble each other closely, and have the same tricks of voice and speech. Nay, it was whispered that many of the youths were in very truth sons to Robin; and one of these so far favoured him that they were ever together, and he was treated in all ways like a son. Miriam loved him as though he had been her own. Where Long Robin went there went this other Robin, too. He was as the shadow of the other. And a day came when they went forth together to roam in foreign lands, and Miriam with them. They were gone for full three years. We gave up the hope of seeing them more. But suddenly they came amongst us again-two of them, not three. They said the younger Robin had died of the plague in foreign lands, and all men gave heed to the tale. But from the first I noted that Long Robin's step was firmer than when he went forth, that there was more power in his voice, more strength in his arm. True, he goes about with bowed back; but I have seen him lift himself up when he thought there was none to see him, and stretch his long arms with a strength and ease that are seldom seen in the very aged. He can accomplish long rides and rambles, strange in one so old; and our people begin to regard him with awe, as a man whom death has passed by. But I verily believe that it was old Robin who passed away, and that this man is none other but young Robin; and that in him and him alone is reposed the secret of the lost treasure, that he may one day have it for his own."
"And why to him?" questioned Cuthbert, drawing his brows together in the effort to understand; "why to him rather than to Miriam or any other of the tribe?"
"Verily because he was the one being in the world beloved of Long Robin. Miriam he trusted not, for that she was a woman, and he held that no woman, however faithful, might be trusted with a secret. I have heard him say so a hundred times, and have seen her flinch beneath the words, whilst her eyes flashed fire. Methinks that Long Robin loved gold with the miser's greed-loved to hoard and not to spend-loved to feel it in his power, but desired not to touch it. Miriam was content so long as vengeance on the Trevlyns had been taken. She wanted not the gold herself so long as it was hidden from them. But the secret was one that must not die, and to young Robin it has been intrusted. And if I mistake me not, he has other notions regarding it, and will not let it lie in its hiding place for ever. He is sharp and shrewd as Lucifer. He knows by some instinct that I suspect and that I watch him, and never has he betrayed aught to me. But sure am I that the secret rests with him; and if thou wouldst find it out, it is Long Robin's steps that thou must dog and watch."
