Cruel as the grave
you liable to arrest--nay, certain to be arrested and imprisoned upon
the charge of murder! Oh, my dear, most innocent wife! my free, wild,
high-spirited Sybil! even the sense of innocence could not save you from
imprisonment, or support you during its degrading tortures! _You_ could
not bear--_I_ could not bear for you, such loss of liberty and honor for
one hour--even if nothing worse should follow! But, Sybil, worse may,
worse _must_ follow! Yes, the _very worst_! Your only safety is in
flight--instant flight! And oh! Heaven! how the time is speeding away!"
exclaimed the husband, beside himself with distress.
During the latter part of his speech the wife had started to her feet,
and now she stood staring at him, amazed, incredulous, yet firm and
brave.
"Rouse yourself to the occasion, Sybil! Oh! for my sake, for Heaven's
sake, collect your faculties and prepare for flight," he passionately
urged.
"I am innocent, and yet I must fly like the guilty! Lyon, for your sake,
and only for yours, I will do it," she answered gravely, and sadly.
"We must not call assistance, nor stop to compliment each other. Pack
quickly up what you will most need for yourself, in a travelling bag,
and I will do the same for myself," explained Lyon Berners, suiting the
action to the word by shoving into his valise some valuable papers,
money, razors, a few articles of clothing, etc.
Sybil showed more promptitude and presence of mind than might have been
expected of her. She quickly collected her costly jewels and ready
money, a change of under clothing, combs, and brushes, and packed them
in a small travelling bag.
"We go on horseback," quickly explained Lyon Berners, as he locked his
valise.
Swiftly and silently Sybil threw off her masquerading dress, that she
had unconsciously worn until now, and dropped it on the floor, where it
lay glowing like a smouldering bonfire. She then put on a water-proof
riding habit, and announced herself ready.
"Come, then," said Lyon Berners, taking up both bags, and beckoning her
to follow him silently.
They slipped down the dark stairs and through the deserted halls, and
reached the back door, where, under the shelter of a large hemlock-tree,
Captain Pendleton held the horses. It was dark as pitch, and drizzling
rain. They could see nothing, they could only know the whereabouts of
their "friend in need," and their horses, by hearing Captain Pendleton's
voice speaking through the mist in cautious tones, and whispering:
"Lock the door after you, Berners, so as to secure us from intrusion
from within. And then stop there under the porch until I come and talk
to you."
Mr. Berners did as he was requested to do, and then stood waiting for
his friend, who soon came up.
"You have got all you will need on your journey, have you not?" inquired
the Captain.
Mr. Berners replied by telling his friend exactly what he had brought.
"All that is very well, but people require to eat and drink once in a
while. So I have put some sandwiches, and a bottle of wine from the
supper-table, into your saddle-bags. And now, in the hurry, have you
decided upon your route?"
"Yes; we shall endeavor to reach the nearest seaport, Norfolk probably,
and embark for some foreign country, no matter what, for in no place but
in a foreign country can my unhappy wife hope for safety," mournfully
replied Lyon Berners.
"Endeavor to reach Norfolk! That will never succeed. You will be sure to
be overtaken and brought back before you go a score of miles on that
road," declared Captain Pendleton, shaking his head.
"Then, in the name of Heaven, what _will_ do?" demanded Mr. Berners, in
a tone of desperation.
"You must find a place of concealment, and then take time to disguise
yourself and your wife, so that neither of you can be recognized, before
you venture upon the road to Norfolk. You see, Lyon, you are the better
lawyer, but I am the better strategist! I graduated among the warpaths
and the ambushes of the Redskins on the frontier."
"But where shall I find such a place of concealment?"
"I have thought of that."
"You think of everything."
"Ah! it is easy to show presence of mind in other people's confusion!
Almost as easy at it is to bear other people's troubles!" said the
Captain, attempting a jest, only to raise his friend's drooping spirits.
"But now to the point, for we must be quick. You know the 'Haunted
Chapel?'"
"The old ruined church in the cleft on the other side of the Black
Mountain?"
"Yes; that is the place. Its deep solitude and total abandonment, with
its ghostly reputation, will be sure to secure your safety. Go there;
conceal yourselves and your horses as well as you can. In the course of
to-morrow, or to-morrow night, I will come to you with such news and
such help as I may be able to bring."
"Thank you. Oh, thank you. But what are words? You are a man of deeds.
Your presence of mind has saved us both!" said Lyon Berners earnestly.
"And now to horse," said Captain Pendleton, taking Mrs. Berners under
his guidance, while Mr. Berners brought on the valise and travelling
bag.
Captain Pendleton placed Sybil in her saddle, whispering encouragingly,
"Be strong and hopeful. This necessary flight is a temporary evil,
intended to save you from a permanent, and even perhaps a fatal wrong.
Be patient, and time shall vindicate you and bring you back."
"But oh! to leave my home, and the home of my fathers! to leave it like
a criminal, when I am innocent! to leave it in haste, and not to know if
I may ever return," cried Sybil, in a voice of anguish.
"It is a fearful trial. I will not mock you by denying that it is. Yes,
it is a terrible ordeal! but one, Mrs. Berners, that you have heroism
enough to bear," replied Captain Pendleton, as he bowed over her
extended hand and gave her the reins.
Lyon Berners was also mounted. They were ready to start. With a mutual
"God bless you," the friends parted.
Lyon and Sybil took the dark road.
Captain Pendleton unlocked the door that had been locked by Mr. Berners,
but as he pushed to open it he felt an obstruction, and instantly
afterwards heard some one run away.
"A listener," he thought, in dismay as he pursued the fugitive. But he
only caught a glimpse of a figure disappearing through the front door
and into the darkness without, in which it was lost.
"An eavesdropper!" he exclaimed, in despair. "An eavesdropper! Who now
can be assured of her safety? Oh, Sybil! you rejected my hand, and very
nearly ruined my life. But this night I would die to save you," he
sighed, as he went and joined the gentlemen who were sitting up
watching, or rather dozing, in the parlor, while waiting for the
physician's or the coroner's arrival.
"Where is Mrs. Berners?" inquired the old Judge, rousing himself up.
"She retired to her chamber about an hour ago," answered Captain
Pendleton, telling the truth, but not the whole truth, as you will
perceive.
"Hum, ha, yes; well, and where is her husband?"
"He followed her there," answered the Captain, shortly.
"Ha, hum, yes, well. The coroner is long in coming," grumbled the Judge.
"It is some distance to Blackville, sir, and the roads are rough and the
night is dark," observed the Captain.
"Well, yes, true," agreed the old man, subsiding into his chair and into
his doze.
Captain Pendleton threw himself into a seat, but had not sat long before
the parlor door opened, and his sister appeared at it and called to him
in a low voice.
He arose, and went to her.
"Come out into the hall here; I want to speak to you, Clement," said
Miss Pendleton.
He went out.
Then his sister inquired, in a voice full of anxious entreaty:
"Clement, _where_ is Sybil?"
"She went to her room a little more than an hour ago," answered the
brother, giving his sister the same answer that he had given the Judge.
"Clement, I must go to her, and throw my arms around her neck and kiss
her. I must not tell her in so many words that I know she is innocent,
for to do that would be to affront her almost as much as if I should
accuse her of being guilty; for she will rightly enough think that her
innocence should not be called into question, but should be taken for
granted. So I must not say a word on that subject, but I _must_ find her
and embrace her, and make her feel that I know she is innocent. Who is
with her?"
"Her husband is with her, Beatrix, and so you can not of course go to
her now."
"Oh, but I am so anxious to do so. Look here, Clement. I stood there
among the crowd this evening, gazing upon that bleeding and dying woman,
until the sight of her ghastly form and face seemed to affect me as the
Medusa's head was said to have affected the beholder, and turn me into
stone. Clement, I was so petrified that I could not move or speak, even
when she appealed to us all to know whether any among us could believe
her to be capable of such an act. I could not speak; I could not move.
She must have thought that I too condemned her, and I cannot bear to
rest under that suspicion of hers. I must go to her now, Clement."
"Indeed you must not, Trix. Wait till she makes her appearance: that
will be time enough," answered her brother.
"Oh, this is a horrible night; I wish it were over. I cannot go to bed;
nobody can. The ladies are all sitting huddled together in the
dressing-room, although the fire has gone out; and the servants are all
gathered in the kitchen, too panic-stricken to do anything. Oh, an awful
night! I wish it were morning."
"It will soon be daylight now, dear Beatrix. You had better go and
rejoin your companions."
And so the brother and sister separated for the night; Beatrix going to
sit and shudder with the other ladies in the dressing-room, and Clement
returning to the parlor to lounge and doze among the gentlemen.
Only his anxiety for Sybil's safety so much disturbed his repose, that
if he did but drop into an instant's slumber he started from it in a
vague fright. So the small hours of the morning wore on and brought the
dull, drizzly, wintry daylight.
Meanwhile Lyon and Sybil Berners rode on through mist and rain.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE HAUNTED CHAPEL.
"The chapel was a ruin old,
That stood so low, in lonely glen.
The gothic windows high and dark
Were hung with ivy, brier, and yew."
The Haunted Chapel to which Mr. and Mrs. Berners were going was in a
dark and lonely gorge on the other side of the mountain across Black
River, but near its rise in the Black Torrent. To reach the chapel, they
would have to ride three miles up the shore and ford the river, and then
pass over the opposite mountain. The road was as difficult and dangerous
as it was lonely and unfrequented.
Lyon and Sybil rode on together in silence, bending their heads before
the driving mist, and keeping close to the banks of the river until they
should reach the fording place.
At length Sybil's anguish broke forth in words.
"Oh! Lyon, is this nightmare? Or is it true that I am so suddenly cast
down from my secure place, as to become in one hour a fugitive from my
home, a fugitive from justice! Oh! Lyon, speak to me. Break the spell
that binds my senses. Wake me up. Wake me up," she wildly exclaimed.
"Dear Sybil, be patient, calm, and firm. This is a terrible calamity.
But to meet calamity bravely, is the test of a true high soul. You are
compelled to seek safety in flight, to conceal yourself for the present,
to avoid a train of unmerited humiliations that even the consciousness
of innocence would not enable you to bear. But you have only to be
patient, and a few days or weeks must bring the truth to light, and
restore you to your home."