Cruel as the grave
had left him, and got up immediately, and dressed and followed her.
"Oh, Lyon! is not this a beautiful morning? And the Captain says the
wind is fair, and we shall sail in half an hour!" was her greeting.
And Lyon pressed her hand in silence. A great weight of anxiety lay upon
his heart; _he_ knew, if she did not, that she was not safe, even on
shipboard, until the ship should really sail. And now his eyes were
fixed upon a large rowboat that was rapidly crossing the water from the
shore to the ship.
"Do you expect any more passengers?" he inquired of the Captain.
"Oh, lots!" answered the latter.
"Are those some of your passengers coming in the boat?"
The Captain threw a hasty glance at the approaching object and answered
carelessly:
"Of course they are! Don't you see they are making right for the ship?"
The boat was very near. It was at the side of the ship. The oars were
drawn in. The passengers were climbing up to the deck.
"They look like nice people! I am sure they will make it still
pleasanter for us on the voyage," said Sybil, who in her happy mood was
inclined to be delighted with every event.
The Captain went to meet the new-comers.
Two gentlemen of the party spoke for a moment with him, and then
advanced towards the spot where the husband and wife were standing.
"They _are_ nice people," repeated Sybil, positively; but Lyon said
nothing; he was pale as ashes. The two gentlemen came up and stood
before Lyon and Sybil. The elder of the two took off his hat, and bowing
gravely, said to Sybil:
"You are Mrs. Sybil Berners of Black Hall?"
Then all at once an agony of terror took possession of her; her heart
sank, her brain reeled, her limbs tottered.
"You are Mrs. Sybil Berners of Black Hall?" repeated the stranger,
drawing from his pocket a folded paper.
"Yes," faltered Sybil, in a dying voice.
"Then, Madam, I have a most painful duty to perform. Sybil Berners, you
are my prisoner," he said, and he laid his hand upon her shoulder.
With an agonizing shriek she sprang from under his hand, and threw
herself into the arms of her husband, wildly crying:
"Save me, Lyon! Oh! don't let them force me away! Save me, my husband!
Save me!"
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE ARREST.
Had it pleased Heaven
To try me with affliction; had He rained
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head;
Steeped me in poverty to the very lips;
I could have found in some part of my soul
A drop of patience; but alas, to make me
A fixed figure for the time of scorn
To point his slow, unmoving finger at!--SHAKESPEARE.
"Save me! Oh, save me!" she continued to cry, clinging wildly to her
husband's bosom. "Save me from this deep degradation! This degradation
worse than death!"
And it is certain that if the immediate sacrifice of his own life could
have saved her, Lyon Berners would have willingly died for Sybil; or
even if the drowning of that law officer could have delivered her, he
would have incontinently pitched the man overboard; but as neither of
these violent-means could possibly have served her, he could only clasp
her closer to his heart, and consider what was to be done.
At length he looked up at the sheriff's officer, and said:
"I wish to have a word alone with my wife, if you will permit me."
The man hesitated.
"You can do it with perfect safety. We cannot possibly escape from this
ship, you know; and besides, you can keep us in sight," he added.
Still the man hesitated, and at length inquired:
"Why do you wish to speak with her alone?"
"To try to soothe her spirits. I know it would be quite useless to tell
you how entirely innocent this lady is of the heinous crime imputed to
her; for even if you should believe her to be so, you would have to do
your duty all the same."
"Yes, certainly; and a most distressing duty," put in the officer.
"This arrest has come upon her so suddenly, and when she is so utterly
unprepared to meet it, that it has quite overcome her, as you see; but
leave her alone with me for a few minutes, and I will try to calm her
mind, and induce her to yield quietly to this necessity," added Lyon.
"Well, sir, I am indeed very willing to do all in my power to make this
sad affair as little distressing to the lady as possible," answered the
officer as he touched his companion on the shoulder, and they both
walked off to some little distance.
As their retreating steps sounded upon the deck, Sybil raised her head
from Lyon's breast and looked around with an expression half-frightened,
half-relieved, and murmured:
"They are gone! They are gone!"
Then clasping her husband suddenly around the neck, and gazing wildly
into his eyes, she exclaimed:
"You can save me, Lyon, you can save me from this deep dishonor that no
Berners ever suffered before! There is but one way, Lyon, and there is
but one moment. You have a small penknife; but it is enough. Open it,
and strike it _here_, Lyon. One blow will be enough, if it is firmly
struck! Here--Lyon! here, strike here!" And she placed her hand on her
throat, under her ear, and gazed wildly, prayerfully in his face.
"_Oh, Sybil!_" he groaned, in an agony of despairing love.
"Quick! quick! Lyon! We have but this moment! Strike here now--now, this
instant! Strike first, and then kiss me! kiss me as I die!"
"Sybil! Sybil, darling you wring my heart."
"I am not afraid of death, Lyon; I am only afraid of shame. Kill me, to
save me, Lyon! Be a Roman husband. Slay your wife, to save her from
shame!" she cried, gazing on him with great bright dilated eyes, where
the fires of frenzy, if not of insanity, blazed.
"My best beloved! my only beloved! there can be no shame where there is
no sin. I will save you, Sybil; I swear it by all my hopes of Heaven! I
do not yet see clearly how; but I will do it," he said, solemnly, and
pressing her again to his heart.
"Do it this way! do it this way!" she wildly entreated, never removing
her frenzied eyes from his face.
"No, not that way, Sybil. But listen: there are safe means--sinless
means that we may use for your deliverance. The journey back will be a
long one, broken up by many stoppages at small hamlets and roadside
inns. Escape from these will be comparatively easy. I have also about
me, in money and notes, some five thousand dollars. With those I can
purchase connivance or assistance. Besides, to farther our views, I
shall offer our wagon and horses, which luckily were not sold, but
remain at the livery-stable at Portsmouth--I shall offer them, I say, to
the officer for his use, and try to persuade him to take us down to
Blackville by that conveyance, which will be easier even for him, than
by the public stage coach. Take courage, dear Sybil, and take patience;
and above all, do not think of using any desperate means to escape this
trouble. But trust in Divine Providence. And now, dear Sybil, we must
not try the temper of these officers longer, especially as we have got
to leave the ship before it sails."
And so saying, Lyon Berners beckoned the bailiffs to approach.
"I hope the lady feels better," said the elder one.
"She is more composed, and will go quietly," answered Mr. Berners.
"Then the captain says we must be in a hurry. So if there is anything
you wish to have removed, you had better attend to it at once," said the
man.
"I do not wish to leave the side of my wife for an instant; so if you
would be so kind as to speak to the captain and ask him to have our
luggage removed from our state-room and put upon the boat, I should feel
much obliged."
Leaving his companion in charge of the prisoner, the senior officer went
forward and gave his message. And the captain, with a seaman-like
promptness, immediately executed the order.
Then Sybil's hat and cloak were brought her from the cabin, and she put
them on and suffered herself to be led by her husband, and helped down
to the boat. The Sheriff's officers followed, and when all were seated,
the two boatmen laid to their oars, and the boat was rowed swiftly
towards shore.
The husband and the wife sat side by side in the stern of the boat. His
arm was wound around her waist, and her head was resting on his
shoulder. No word was spoken between them in the presence of these
strangers; but he was silently giving her all the support in his power,
and she was really needing it all, for she was utterly overcome; not by
the terrors of imprisonment or death, but by something infinitely worse,
the horror of degradation.
All this time too Lyon Berners was maturing in his own mind a plan for
her deliverance, which he was determined to begin to carry out as soon
as they should reach the shore.
In a few minutes more the boat touched the wharf, and the party landed.
"I must trouble you to take my arm, Mrs. Berners," said the Sheriff's
officer, drawing Sybil's hand under his elbow.
She would have shrunk back, but Lyon looked at her significantly, and
she submitted.
"Where do you mean to take us first?" inquired Mr. Berners, in a low
tone.
"I wish to make this matter as little painful to this lady as the
circumstances will permit. So I shall take her for the present to a
hotel, where she must of course be carefully guarded. To-night we shall
start by the night coach for Staunton, en route for Blackville,"
answered the elder officer, as with Sybil on his arm he led the way into
the town. Mr. Berners walked on the other side of his wife, and the
second officer followed close behind.
"We thank you for your consideration, Mr.--Mr.--" began Lyon.
"Purley," continued the elder officer. "My name is Purley."
"I do not remember you among the officers of the Sheriff's staff,
however."
"No; I am a new appointment. I must tell you, sir, that so strong was
the feeling of sympathy for this lady, that not one of the bailiffs
could be induced to serve the warrant; they resigned one after another."
"They all knew Sybil from her childhood up. I thank them, and will take
care that they shall lose nothing in resigning their positions for her
sake," said Lyon Berners with much warmth, while Sybil's heavy heart
swelled with gratitude.
"And to tell the whole truth, had I known this lady, I should have felt
the same reluctance to serving this warrant that was experienced by my
predecessors in office."
"I can well believe you," answered Mr. Berners, gravely.
"Now, however, having undertaken the painful duty, I must discharge it
faithfully," added the officer.
"Yes, Mr. Purley, but gently and considerately, I know. You will inflict
as little of unmerited mortification as may be consistent with your
duty."
"Heaven knows I will."
"Then I have a plan to propose, and a favor to ask of you."
"If I can gratify you with safety to the custody of my charge, I will do
so; but here we are at the hotel now, and you had better wait until we
get into a private sitting-room. The people of the place need not know
that we are officers in charge of an accused party; but may be left to
suppose that we are ordinary travellers."
"Oh, I thank you for that!" exclaimed Mr. Berners, warmly.
They entered the hotel, a second-class house in a cross street, where
the elder officer asked for a private sitting-room, to which they were
immediately shown.
As soon as the four were seated, Mr. Berners turned to the elder officer
and broached his plan.
"You spoke of taking the night coach for Staunton. Now, if another
conveyance could be found--a private conveyance that would be more
comfortable for all parties, and would also be entirely under your own
control--would you not be willing that we should travel by it?"