'They are all afraid. Are holding a consultation now. They will give you the old woman's room.'

Then Nancy was gone. Everything was as still as the solitude of the tomb; and Roland could hear the partridge 'drumming' among the silent aisles of the wood.

He sat upon the tree-bole meditating, and the words of Nancy somehow gave him courage. Presently he heard a rustle in the dry bushes beside him, and, looking he saw a fallow doe making her way with quick but dainty tread towards the lake. He saw that she had not seen him, and that she was coming for the very spot where he sat. So he laid himself noiselessly down in the shelter of the huge trunk, and drawing his heavy pistol awaited.

In a few seconds the unsuspecting animal was within half a dozen paces of him, when, rising, he fired, one, two shots, and the pretty creature fell over, headlong, dead.

Running over he opened the jugular artery so that the blood might run out of the meat, and cause it to be white,--although some of the _connoisseurs_ of game prefer the retention of the blood, as the meat, they affirm, becomes 'gamey' in a shorter period.

The pistol report brought the robbers instantly from the lair with alarm in their faces.

'What is this?' demanded the captain.

'A fallow doe was pa.s.sing down toward the lake, and I fired.'

'And _missed_ it,' sneered Murfrey.

'It is a fine fat one, captain,' Roland said, taking no notice of the ruffian; 'come and feel it.'

'It is more than you could do with a pistol, Joe,' the captain replied, turning to the hang-dog robber, who, with a very disconcerted air, hulked away from the scene, probably in search of Nancy.

It may be objected here that the robbers would not be likely to give their captive the opportunity of escaping which he must have had by being alone. I have to reply for the sake of the small critics who read my book, and to whom the publishers are very glad to _sell_ it, that there was only one means of escape for Roland, and that was along the lakeward side of the tunnel. But the pa.s.sage here was commanded by the eyes of the gang, who had been underground in consultation.

After the doe had been quartered, The Lifter, taking Roland aside, said:

'You have frighteen'd 'em. You are to have Granny's bed; and the Capteen swears that he will punish the next attempt upon your life as if it was made against his own. "If I want 'em made away with," he said, "I'll tell you, and will make the way known." I think he rather likes your pluck, although he is as mad as blazes that you will not take a hand with us. But I don't think they'll try your life any more, though you must be always on your guard.' Although the conversation of this young robber was most sincere, the above words slipped from his lips like dripping oil, and he had in his face a cunning look, strange and repellant as of yore. But the cunning was now against his confederates, and active upon Roland's side.

'Suppose,' he said, 'we take our rods up the brook. We may catch sometheen.' They went and had extremely good luck; and many a day thereafter, till the stream became covered with a thin crust of leaden-grey ice, did they continue the sport.

In the meantime the robbers went abroad, and Roland occupied the room of the hag, who went with Silent Poll. When the first snow drifts came swishing through the bush a large tent was erected near the mouth of the cavern, and in this the meals were eaten and the household work performed.

This season became very irksome to Roland, who, at the first, had no books to read save 'Claude Duval,'

'd.i.c.k Turpin,' 'The Lives of Forty Robbers,' and 'Sixteen-String Jack.' But one day as The Lifter left the lair to go to Muddy York he put a guinea in his hand and a slip of paper containing the t.i.tles of certain books that he desired him to bring back. These were 'The Abbot,' 'The Monastery,' 'Zanoni,' and 'Anson's Voyages.' He likewise put a sealed letter into his hand directed to

'Miss Aster Atwell, 'Oaklands, York County.'

This letter has been placed into my hands. It is yellow now, and worn so where folded that it makes eight different pieces when spread out. But the writing is legible, and I transcribe its contents, which were as follows:

'My Own Beloved Aster,

'I do not know how I ought to commence a letter to you, or in what terms to write it. I do not know whether you share in the general horror and detestation of my crime; or whether you look upon it as an act forced upon me, an act unavoidable, in defence of my honour. The blame for the lamentable occurrence, I feel, after long deliberation, ought to be laid at my door; for I was too precipitate, and by my haste no doubt provoked the insult.

'I did not at the unlucky moment know what it was that aroused the evil spirit within me; but, oh, Aster, it was in the depths of the sheltering forest, wounded, and set upon by the bloodhounds of the law, I discovered first the reason. Ah, my darling, it was then, and then for the first time only, that I knew how dear you were to me; that above all things in heaven or on earth I loved my own sweet Aster. But how helpless now, how agonizing was that love which my misfortune had fanned into such a sudden flame.

'Well, as you know, my beloved, I escaped from the officers of the law, and the impression is abroad that I am in one of the neighbouring States of the Union. I am in Upper Canada and quite near to you, "so near and yet so far." Where my place of hiding is I may not tell you.

Yet this much, Aster, I may say, I am not here of my own choice; I was taken here by force, and by force I am detained. Ah, may I hope that the day yet shall come, when it will be meet for me to present myself to my own darling, the first and only love of my life.

'Yet, why, Aster, should I address you thus? I am a murderer before the tribunals; and whatever I be I am perhaps only a friend in your eyes. Some other one may now find the place in your favour which once I fondly thought I held.

'Oh Aster, if I have done wrong, most bitter has been my punishment.

I could not for _shame_ write to my beloved what my lot has been since my painful parting. I may escape the toils set about me, or I may perish in them. But oh, my Aster whatever issue fate allots to me, believe this that my love for you shall be my only star to the end.

'Roland.'

'Let n.o.body be aware that you bear this letter,' Roland whispered when an opportunity offered.

The Lifter raised his finger to his lips.

It appears that Murfrey, whose eyes were ever on the alert, noticed that Roland gave some injunctions to The Lifter, and he likewise observed the latter lay his finger upon his lips. Turning to the Captain, he muttered a few words in a voice that was inaudible, and the chief turned and said:

'Treachery has been charged against you. I do not know whether the charge is true or false. Murfrey says you are the bearer of some secret correspondence for the duellist.

'I know not whether he speaks the truth or not. But I will make no investigation, for if I did and found the charge made good, I should shoot you where you stand. I will take your word upon it.'

The Lifter did not wince under the harangue. He did not, indeed, look at his father at all, but kept his eye upon Murfrey.

'And,' said he, 'before I reply, may I ask what you ought to do to anybody guilty of slandereen? He looked with a full face of hate upon Joe. It will be perceived by this that he was not in the fullest sense 'converted;' for you 'must pray for them that persecute and calumniate you.' I am like The Lifter in this matter. I never pray for my culumniator, but I pray for guidance as to how I may _crush_ him. My prayer, I may add, has now and again been heard.

'With respect to the charge,' resumed The Lifter, 'Roland gave me a coin and with it a slip of paper on which were written the names of certain books that he wanted me to buy for him in Muddy York. As I pa.s.sed him he whispered me not to let anybody know; because I suppose he was afeered that you might object. I put my fingers upon my lips; because I thought 'twas no harm to bring the books. That's all.'

The moralist tells us that 'no lie can be lawful or innocent.' Now I take it that some of the old numbskulls who wrote such things in the church catechisms and books of that ilk ought to be drowned in the bottom of a well. A good clever lie of this sort would raise The Lifter more in my estimation than if he were able to repeat the Forty-Nine articles off by heart, or begin in the Vulgate with '_Pater Noster, qui es in Caelis,_' and go through without drawing his breath to '_Sed libera nos a malo._'

'I accept your explanation,' the Captain said, and The Lifter hurried away on his errand to town.

The books were little short of a blessing to Roland; and when nothing else was to be done in winter, he sat in his sleeping-room --which was the one best ventilated among the lot--and read by the light of a candle. How often he laid the book upon his knee and sighed, thinking of his beloved Aster, wondering how she had regarded his letter. In this way many a dreary week went on during which he grew pale and weak from pining and incarceration.

When The Lifter's arm became well, that repentant and unwilling robber was obliged to make up for lost time. His first most important enterprise was to obtain entrance into the house of a large cattle dealer in York, the testy old person by the way, whose negro servant he had endeavoured in vain to rob upon the highway. It became known to the Rev. Mr. Jonas that there was a strong box in the old gentleman's house, and the same was full of 'yellow shiners.' It was secured, the clergyman observed, by three padlocks besides an ordinary lock. In the picking of locks The Lifter was an expert by instinct; and when the worthy father discovered this gift he at once sent him to a locksmith in York for a period of six months.

'Make him as expert as you can in his trade by the end of that time, and forty pounds shall be yours.'

The honest locksmith looked wonderingly at this burly cattle dealer who would pay so much money for giving his son a smattering knowledge of the trade. But he consented, and at the half-year's end The Lifter came out, prepared, as he said with an oily chuckle 'to tackle any lock.'

Well, as I have said, the scene of operations chosen for The Lifter now was the house of this old man; and the money in the box was the object.

'I am sorry that I have to go stealeen again,' the fellow said with a sigh to Roland, and then he explained his mission.

'But that is more than stealing. That will be robbery; and if you are obliged to enter the house after night, it will be burglary. Do you know that the law provides death for burglary?'

'I am goeen to get myself invited in. But I have often burglared, an I did not think they could hang me for it.'

'They could; because the law presumes that a burglar will commit murder, and comes prepared to commit it, rather than suffer himself to be taken in the act.'

'Oh,' groaned the poor wretch. 'Many a hangeen have I earned. But all the same I must do this. Say,' he cried, suddenly turning and laying his hand upon Roland's arm, 'when do you think we will be able to escape out of this place? Nancy would like to come too, I know. I am very fond of her; and would like to marry her and live in the States.'

'I shall let you know when I think the time is opportune. Meanwhile, do as little evil as possible; and if you can deceive the captain in this present enterprise, do so, and leave the locks alone.' Then The Lifter was gone.

That same evening towards the set of sun as 'Old Snarleyow,' as the miserly farmer was called, was limping in from the out-houses to his residence, he saw approaching his gate a lad with a pale and dejected face. His hair was flaxen and his skin had in it just the slightest tinge of apple-green. Imagine wasting such an exquisite colour upon the complexion of a robber! He hobbled towards the gate of the stately old mansion, towards which Snarleyow was also hobbling; and he called in a feeble voice in which you could catch a note of pain: