Part 6

“The following morning, Robinson received his instructions, and to avoid suspicion, we kept within doors through the remainder of the day. At dusk we sallied forth, and passed the gates just before they were closed, not without suspicion, but our disguises were so admirably contrived, as to deceive the penetrating looks of the guard. The night was dark and stormy, and it was with great difficulty we reached the suburbs near the vineyard. Here poor Robinson formed the resolution of once more seeing Euphemia; and though I pointed out the danger, yet my own heart was involuntarily attracted towards the cottage. We approached, but were compelled to abandon the design, as the _gens d’armes_ were evidently on the watch.

“We returned to the spot where our guide was to be in waiting, and made the signal; but it met with no reply, and we dreaded lest by delay we had forfeited the opportunity of escape. Crouched behind a jutting rock, after remaining some time longer in anxious suspense, we saw a figure moving at a short distance; the signal was again given, and by being answered, we knew it to be our guide. He appeared, from his stature, to be a mere lad; but the darkness of the night and a broad-brimmed hat, concealed every feature of his face. Not a word passed on either side, and we commenced our march over a rugged track winding among the rocks, that greatly impeded our progress, till we came suddenly upon the main road, and the next moment were surrounded by a troop of cavalry. They interrogated our guide, but he was silent; they addressed us, and suspecting we were betrayed through the machinations of Wirrion, I was on the point of venting my indignation on the guide, when he prevented it by answering we were peasants. The reply not satisfying the officer, and the guide preparing to pass on, he struck him a severe blow on the head with the flat of his sword; a piercing shriek followed, that wrung my soul to agony,--such a shriek as had once before fell upon my tortured ear; it was Adele,--the generous, self-devoted Adele,--and she fell into my arms breathless and bleeding.

“The officer and several of the troop alighted on discovering that our guide was a female, and every means were used to restore animation, which, after considerable exertion, proved successful; and we were informed that our condition was well known, as they had only a short time before seized the conveyance which was to carry us beyond the frontiers, and had extorted the whole plot from the driver.

“There are some situations to which human nature may be exposed, that come like a blight upon the heart, chilling every faculty, and such was my case now; an icy coldness crept through my whole frame, and a faint sick shuddering shook every nerve. Adele was still supported in my arms, but I experienced neither grief nor pleasure; her blood ran streaming down my breast, but excited neither horror nor resentment; not a single murmur escaped from my lips, yet an insupportable weight of anguish pressed heavy on my soul. I heard the curses and execrations of our captors with indifference; but when they came to force her from me, then--then my spirit was aroused,--then my dormant faculties awakened from their stupefaction, and clasping her closer to my heart, I swore to hold her there till death. The courageous girl clung round me with all the powerful strength of maddening desperation, but how futile were our efforts against the united force of such a band! we were forcibly torn from each other; I saw her tender arms pinioned with cords; I saw her mounted on one of their horses; my stupor returned, and I patiently suffered them to bind my hands. Robinson and myself were conveyed to the citadel, and put in close confinement.

“On the following morning, Wirrion came to our prison, and a ghastly smile of infernal satisfaction played upon his features. Every epithet my tongue could lavish on a villain, was poured on him. At first he shrunk back; but approaching nigher, I heard his detested voice in a half whisper muttering between his teeth, ‘Remember Adele!’ My hand was instantly writhed in the wretch’s collar, but the bayonets of the guard were presented,--nay, even pricked my breast, and the pain compelled me to quit my hold, and we were condemned to solitary confinement for breaking our parole. Oh! how many hours and days of agonized suspense followed close upon each other! and though a cheerful gleam would sometimes break upon our dreary solitude, yet the uncertainty as to what had become of those we loved, clouded the brightest moments. In vain exertions were used in our behalf; we were considered dead to the world, and all its enjoyments.

“Among the soldiers who did duty near our prison, was an old grenadier, and sometimes we surprised him gazing at us with deep and marked emotion; but the moment he found himself observed, he would resume his ferocious countenance and turn away. On a particular day of festival, when discipline somewhat relaxed from its severity, our grenadier was sentry over us, and having looked cautiously around, he growled out a curse at the English prisoners, and thrust his bayonet towards the grated bars of the window. At first, I thought he designed to stab me; but observing something like white paper screwed up in the muzzle of his firelock, it was instantly in my hand, and the piece withdrawn. Hope once more played round my heart; it was a note in broken English, expressive of sympathetic feeling, and promising assistance. The writer had been a prisoner in England, and had shared the generous hospitality of my countrymen; but what conveyed the greatest delight to my mind, was assurances of the safety of the dear girls. After reading this unexpected epistle, we looked down towards the veteran; but no effort could again draw his attention, he continued pacing his post till relieved, without taking the slightest notice. Means of communication we had none, and several weeks of intense anxiety passed away without again seeing the grenadier. Wirrion would frequently come to glut his brutal malice, and never failed to drop some threatening hint of his future intentions.

“One afternoon, the grenadier again appeared before our prison; but the other sentinels were too near for him to convey any thing of which he was possessed, though it appeared evident that such was his intention. Recollecting the mode of receiving the last communication, I uttered a torrent of abusive and provoking language; he seemed to understand my meaning, and thrusting the bayonet through the bars, my hands grasped the paper, and unfolded an affectionate yet mournful epistle from Euphemia and Adele. The latter had been imprisoned, and every method resorted to which was likely to effect her destruction; but, happily, she had escaped all the machinations of the villain Wirrion. Her wound had been healed, and she was again restored to liberty. This letter was enclosed in a paper written on, I believe, by yourself with a pencil.”

“I remember it,” said I; “it was to give you hopes of escape, as several had united in the cause, determined to set you at liberty; but the commandant traversed our design. A Frenchman we entrusted, betrayed our secret.”

“It was so,” he continued; “and from time to time the veteran supplied us with information. By his means we were furnished with tools to cut through the bars which confined us; but this was a work of time, and could only be attempted at those hours when our friend was on sentry, as the least noise of the file would have betrayed us to the man at the next post. At last, after a sickening interval of several months, our task was accomplished, and we waited in anxious expectation for further instructions.

“It was on a stormy day in November, poor Robinson and myself were sitting together on our only chair, conversing about home and recalling to memory the transactions of our childhood, when parents, brothers, sisters, and the companions of our juvenile amusements alternately occupied our attention. From them the conversation turned to the land of our nativity, and there was something so peculiar in Robinson’s manner when speaking of his country, as to excite painful sensations in my mind. His spirits were exceedingly dejected, though at times an enthusiastic expression of devoted attachment to his king and his profession lightened up his pale features with a glow of animation; but it would presently sink again, and grasping my hand, while a tear trembled in his eye, he uttered, ‘You will see them again, you will once more tread on British soil, whilst I--yes, my grave will be made in the land wherein I am a stranger. Yet tell them,--tell my parents that Robinson never disgraced his cloth, or committed an act for which they could blush.’ I endeavoured to divert his thoughts from such ideas, but my efforts were useless. I know not whether there is any thing like presentiment; but in many events which occur in our journey through life, there are some strange mysterious coincidences that would almost prompt the credence of it, and thus it proved with poor Robinson.

“The heavy bell of the citadel tolled four, and in a few minutes we heard the relief-guard beneath our windows. The officer and his men passed on; we listened to the measured tread, as their steps receded, and then cautiously advanced; but the sentry was in his box, and again we resumed our seat. The theme of our conversation turned upon the dear girls, who had risked so much for the poor prisoners; and here Robinson was again sad and melancholy, conjuring me, if my life was spared, to give his last and tender farewell to the amiable Euphemia.

“At this moment a noise was heard, like the fall of a firelock on the pavement, but it passed unnoticed; however, when a short time had elapsed, it was repeated, and on going to our grating to ascertain the cause, we saw our faithful old soldier on the post. The rain was pouring down in torrents, and the weather was excessively cold, so that most of the other sentinels were glad to keep under shelter. After taking two or three turns without looking up, he suddenly halted, raised his bayonet to the window, and we received a small scrap of paper, which contained these words, written in a hand we did not remember to have seen before. ‘At ten o’clock to-night, when the relief comes round, be ready to remove your grating and descend. Upon the ramparts, under the muzzle of the third gun from the sentry-box, you will find materials to assist in your descent, and below are disguises to put on. Be firm and resolute.’

“There was a something in the manner of this note that did not altogether please me; it raised suspicions I found it difficult to suppress; but to give any information of this to the grenadier was impossible; he returned to the spot no more. The next consideration was, how we were to descend; but that was readily suggested, by tearing our blankets into slips, and then twisting them together. To tell you the torturing suspense we endured, while the time passed heavily on, is beyond my power, but there was a novelty in our situation which lifted us to hope. Nine o’clock came, and our hearts beat in tumultuous disorder; we listened to the chiming of the quarters, and silently prepared for our removal. At last, we heard the first warning for ten, and we grasped each other’s hand with convulsive agitation. Every stroke of the sonorous bell vibrated on our hearts with sickly apprehension; it ceased, and all was silent, except the howling of the wind and the pelting of the rain. Shortly afterward, the sentinel challenged the relief, and hope and despair alternately took possession of my breast, but both urged me on in the same determined course.

“The night was uncommonly dark, tempestuous, and dreary, so that we could not discover the fresh sentry as he paced his post. After walking backwards and forwards several times, the noise of his footsteps ceased, and we heard the butt of his firelock brought to the ground as he entered the box. Another quarter of an hour elapsed, when we removed the bars, and secured our blanket rope. I descended first, without making the slightest noise; but poor Robinson slipped and struck the loose grating above, which instantly fell into the room. The sentinel started from his box, we heard the rattle of his arms, but all was instantly hushed, and the howling of the gale deadening the sound, he did not advance. Stretched on the wet pavement, while the rain poured down with impetuous fury, we remained motionless for nearly half an hour; when finding the sentry had returned to his box, we cautiously crawled away upon our hands and knees, till having attained a proper distance and rising on our feet, we slowly and silently followed the directions which had been given.

“Again the bell tolled eleven, as unseen we reached the spot; but the sentry here was on the alert, and we had time just to secrete ourselves, by laying at full length on the sloping descent of the rampart, when he passed the place; this he continued to do repeatedly, and we could distinctly hear his movements at every turn. At last, after a painful suspense, the heavy tread ceased; and stretching our hands out in various directions, we found beneath the muzzle of the gun, a rope coiled up. To secure one end to the carriage and pass the other down through the embrazure, was the work of a few minutes, and sliding over the battlements, the cord passed swiftly through my glowing hands; but what was my distress, on reaching the lower extremity, to find it was too short to allow of my touching the ground, and the darkness prevented my seeing what distance there was to fall. It was impossible to apprize my companion, for just at this instant I felt the rope violently agitated from above; the next moment it gave way, and I was precipitated down the rocks. How long I laid insensible, I cannot tell; a confused recollection sometimes passed across my mind of a piercing shriek mingling with the gale; but the fall had completely stunned me. Dreadful indeed were my feelings, on recovering from the shock to see, by the light of glistening flambeaux, two _gens d’armes_ standing over me. I stretched out my hand to raise myself up; but oh, horror, horror! it fell upon the death-cold cheek of poor Robinson. Yes, there he lay by my side a mangled corpse--literary dashed to pieces by the fall. I tried to rise, but found every effort ineffectual; in short, both my ankles were dislocated. The barbarous wretches lifted me on my feet; but I again fell, and received another severe contusion on my head. Finding I was unable to walk, they extinguished their torches and carried me on their shoulders through the gates, till they stopped before a heavy grated door; here they were joined by a third person, closely wrapped in a horseman’s cloak. He opened the door, and taking from beneath his cloak a dark lantern, I was rapidly borne forward to those horrid dungeons, where a ray of daylight had never been admitted.

“After passing several massive entrances, they halted at a low door, and it swung upon its hinges; here they threw me down with bitter imprecations, and the _gens d’armes_ withdrew. The individual who carried the lantern then approached me, and purposely turning the light upon his face, I beheld the fiend-like countenance of Wirrion; it was like a blasting vision to my sight, and the powers of utterance were denied me. He tried to laugh, but it resembled the yell of a demon. He gnashed his teeth, exclaiming, ‘Remember Adele!’ and turned the key upon his wretched captive. Oh, what was my agony as the last feeble glimmering of the lamp disappeared, and all around became the darkness of the grave,--still living--still breathing, yet, as I thought, entombed for ever! Happily insensibility crept over me for a time, but of its duration I am unable to speak. I was awoke to recollection by a confused sound which appeared to come from a distance, and then died away. Again the clashing of bayonets and the heavy tread of armed men seemed to approach, but my head was strangely bewildered. In a few minutes, however, I could distinctly hear voices, and recovering in some measure from my stupefaction, as they drew near, I gathered sufficient from their impetuous language to ascertain that another victim was about to be incarcerated in the dreary dungeons, and that victim our faithful friend--the grenadier. When they had reached my dungeon, he refused to proceed,--reproached them with their cruelty to an old man, and added, ‘Life at the longest, must be of short date to me; here satisfy your brutal malice!’ A heavy rush and the rattling of bayonets instantly succeeded, mingled with the curses of the guard; a yell--a wild yell followed, and something fell like a leaden weight, against the door of my dungeon; a bitter groan, as when the heart-strings break, vibrated through the vault, and a convulsive struggling noise, as if some poor wretch lay quivering in his last death-pang.

“The brutal soldiers exulted over their victim, and then slowly retraced their steps. Hitherto I had been silent, but now wrought up to a pitch of frenzy, I raved with desperate madness, entreating them to return and release me from my misery. In a few minutes they halted, and a dead silence ensued. Again I shrieked, and the rocky vaults prolonged the sound, as if a thousand voices joined my cries. The guard growled out their imprecations and departed. In vain I tried to get upon my feet; every effort increased my anguish, and as I extended my hands upon the stone floor of my cell, they fell upon some slimy reptile that filled me with abhorrence and with disgust. After repeated painful struggles, I crawled to the door; but receded on finding my hands immersed in what I first imagined to be water, but a heavy groan and then the tremulous gurgling of the breath in the throat of the dying man, convinced me it was blood. I called to him, but no answer was returned; I spoke with tenderness, mentioned who I was, but still all was silent except the groans of the wretched sufferer. Oh! how did I pour out my heart in prayer, for heaven to support me under the accumulated load of horror, or to remove me from existence.

“In about an hour afterwards, as near as I can conjecture, the door was violently shaken by his struggles; a sudden shriek, with the grinding of the teeth, and then a heavy deep-drawn sigh, told me the last efforts of frail mortality were over.

“But why need I enumerate the trials I underwent, the sufferings I endured. My daily scanty pittance was brought by an individual, upon whom every attempt to gain a single word was unavailing; so that at last I refrained from speaking. Often have I been compelled to wait hours beyond my time, racked with hunger and burning with feverish thirst. Once in rising too eagerly, I dashed the jug from the jailer’s hand, and no entreaties could move him to supply me with more. My raging thirst brought on delirium, and I fell into a lethargic stupor. Well do I remember it,--sweet dreams came over me, and I fancied I was ranging through some lovely meadows, where the eddying streamlet murmured over its shingly bed, clear and transparent as crystal. All the friends of my youth were surrounding me, and I heard their sweet welcomes to my home; my mother pressed me to her heart; my father grasped my hand with joy, whilst sisters and brothers hung in my embrace, and wept with rich delight. Then we sat down to the feast, and every luxury which could refresh the grief-worn prisoner was eagerly devoured. Oh! the agony of awaking from such a dream! Scorched with fever, and parched with burning heat,--it is impossible to picture it.

“How long I had remained in confinement was unknown to me. I had endeavoured to keep some trace upon my memory by the return of my food, but that was soon lost in the number. By almost constantly sitting with my legs extended, I recovered the use of my feet; but the cell was so low and contracted, that walking was impracticable. My clothes were in tatters; I was unwashed and unshaven, and my hair hung down in thick and matted flakes. How many victims of sanguinary malice have I heard in their last dying agonies! how many secret murders have been perpetrated in those vaults,--even at this moment I shudder at the recollection!

“When I was in a state bordering on brutalized indifference, my keeper was changed, and one of milder manners brought my food; this too was augmented, and I was indulged by many little acts of kindness to which I had long been a stranger. I had been sitting anxiously waiting his appearance, when sleep overpowered me, and the luxury of clean straw contributed to the sweetness of repose. I was awoke by some one gently shaking my shoulder, and raising myself beheld--oh! what were my sensations--it was Adele. ‘I am mistaken,’ said she, gazing at my haggard looks, and trembling with alarm. But when I called her by name, she sunk senseless by my side. What a moment was that, when after every hope had vanished, when those sweet feelings which are best and dearest to man were dying in my heart, thus to be recalled to life,--to be awakened to the world, and once more to hold in my arms the dear treasure which bound my spirit down to earth!--Forgive me, my friend, for I cannot restrain my feelings.

“When she recovered, she stared wildly upon my emaciated face, and then springing up, tore herself away. ‘Rise!’ said she in a tone of bitterness, ‘rise! and follow me!’ But this was no easy task, and the voice of command from Adele struck heavy on my heart. I had been so little used to exercise, that walking was almost death to me. Adele perceived it, and in a tone of softened tenderness she implored me to lean on her, and burst into tears. ‘Why are you here, Adele?’ exclaimed I; ‘why are you my deliverer, and how could you discover my prison?’ She indistinctly murmured the name of Wirrion, and the truth instantly flashed upon my mind. ‘You are--Adele, can it be?’ and I felt a suffocating weight upon my breast. ‘Adele you have sacrificed yourself for me!’ The exertion overpowered my weakness, and I sunk senseless at her feet.