The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn: A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot by - (red queen ebook txt) 📗

"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