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

the secret was one that must not die, and to young Robin it has been intrusted. And if I mistake me not, he has other notions regarding it, and will not let it lie in its hiding place for ever. He is sharp and shrewd as Lucifer. He knows by some instinct that I suspect and that I watch him, and never has he betrayed aught to me. But sure am I that the secret rests with him; and if thou wouldst find it out, it is Long Robin's steps that thou must dog and watch."

"I will watch him till I have tracked him to his lair!" cried Cuthbert, springing to his feet in great excitement. "I will never rest, day nor night, until the golden secret is mine!"

Chapter 14: Long Robin.

The gipsy had left him, gliding away in the moonlight like a veritable shadow; and Cuthbert, left alone in the dim cave, buried his face in his hands and sank into a deep reverie.

This, then, was the meaning of it all: the long-deferred vengeance of the gipsy tribe; the avaricious greed of one amongst their number, who had committed dastardly crimes so as to keep the secret hiding place in his own power alone; the secret passed on (as it seemed) to one who feigned to be what he was not, and was cunningly awaiting time and opportunity to remove the gold, and amass to himself this vast hoard; none beside himself of all the tribe heeding or caring for it, all holding to the story told long ago of the seven men who had disappeared bearing away to foreign lands the stolen treasure. A generation had well-nigh passed since that treasure had been filched from the grasp of the Trevlyns. The stalwart fellows who had been bred up amongst the gipsies, or had joined the bands of freebooters with whom they were so closely connected, knew little of and cared nothing for the tradition of the hidden hoard. They found gold enough in the pockets of the travellers they waylaid to supply their daily needs; the free life of the forest was dear to them, and left them no lingering longings after wealth that might prove a burden instead of a joy to its possessor.

Out of those who had been living when the treasure was stolen and lost, only Miriam and Long Robin (if indeed it were he) and Esther remained alive. Esther had retired to London, and was lost to her people. Miriam had done everything to encourage the belief that the treasure had been made away with by the seven helpers who had gone forth, but had never returned to tell the tale. Esther, who had thought very differently, had confined her suspicious for a time to her own bosom, and later on had spoken of them only to Joanna. Upon her had she laid the charge to strive to make restitution, now that vengeance had been inflicted and the curse of the old witch fulfilled. To Joanna it belonged to restore prosperity to the house of Wyvern through the daughters' sons, and it was for her to strive to learn where the treasure lay, and give notice of the spot to the Trevlyns.

The queen had done all that she could. She had watched with close attention the pair with whom Esther believed the secret to lie. Miriam, her mother, knew not the spot, of that she was convinced; but she did know that the treasure had been hidden somewhere in the forest by her husband, and that the exact place was known to the white-bearded man whom she and others called Long Robin.

About that weird old man, said to be well-nigh a hundred years old, a flavour of romance existed. Men looked upon him as bearing a charmed existence. He went his lonely way unheeded by all. He was said to have dealings with the fairies and the pixies of the forest. All regarded him with a species of awe. He had drawn, as it were, a charmed circle about himself and his ways. None desired to interfere with him; none questioned his coming or going. All brought to him a share of the spoil taken on the roads as a matter of right and due, but none looked to receive aught in return from him. He and Miriam, from their great age, lived as it were apart. They took the place of patriarchal heads of the tribe, and were treated with reverence and filial respect by all.

The question Cuthbert had pressed home on Joanna was why, this being so, the treasure had not been moved away before this, so that Miriam should end her days in peace and luxury, instead of growing old in the wilds of the forest.

Joanna's reply had been that she did not think Miriam had ever really wished to leave the free forest life; that with her, vengeance upon the Trevlyns had been the leading impulse of her life; and that she had no covetous desires herself after the gold. Old Robin had loved it with the miser's love; but doubtless the younger Robin (if indeed the long-bearded man were he) was waiting till such time as Miriam should be dead, and he alone in full possession of the golden secret. Then he would without doubt bear it away and live like a prince the rest of his days; but for the present he made no move, and Joanna was very certain that he suspected her of watching him, as indeed she did, and he had shown himself as cunning as any fox in baffling her when she had sought to discover any of his haunts. Her watching had been in vain, because she was suspected of a too great knowledge, and was looked upon as dangerous. But where she failed Cuthbert might succeed, for he was absolutely unknown to Robin, and if the two were to meet face to face in the forest, it would be impossible that the wily old man (if old he were) should suspect him of any ulterior purpose.

Robin had not been at the mill the night that Cuthbert had been brought there by Tyrrel and his companions. Joanna had described him so graphically that the lad was certain of knowing him were he to come across him in the forest. She had also indicated to him the region in which she suspected him most generally to lurk when he spent days and sometimes weeks alone in the forest. She believed that during the summer months, when the forest became the resort of many wandering bands of gipsies or of robbers and outlaws, he kept a pretty close and constant watch upon the spot where his treasure lay hid. The dell, at the head of which the bones of the seven murdered men had been found, was certainly a favourite spot of his; and she believed it was owing to some trickery of his that men still declared it haunted by evil or troubled spirits. Travellers passing that way had been scared almost out of their senses by the sight of a ghostly white figure gliding about, or by the sound of hollow moans and the rattling of chains. None but the ignorant stranger ever ventured within half-a-mile of that ill-omened spot. Cuthbert, as he sat thinking over the gipsy's words and charge, saw clearly that there was ample room for suspicion that here the treasure might lie, since Robin took such pains to scare away all men from the spot.

The light burned dim; but Cuthbert still sat on beside the rude table where he had supped. Before him lay the scrap of parchment with the doggerel lines of the wise woman inscribed upon them. It had been something of a shock to his faith to find that the wise woman knew all his story beforehand, and had had no need to dive into the spirit world to ask the nature of his errand. He felt slightly aggrieved, as though he had been tricked and imposed upon. He was very nearly burning the parchment in despite; but Joanna had bidden him keep it, and had added, with a slight significant smile:

"Keep it, boy; and think not too hardly of those who juggle with men's fears and fancies, to obtain the greater sway upon them. It is not always used amiss. As for those lines, there may be more in them yet than thou or I can see at this moment. For there may be words in them that have been spoken by Long Robin in his dreams. Esther has told me such before now. She knew not their meaning, nor do I; but that they have a meaning she is very sure. 'Three times three'--that was what he was muttering ever. It was the burden of his thought, even as she made it the burden of her song. Keep the lines; they may serve thy turn yet. Esther is a wise woman. She did not give thee that paper for naught."

The day had well-nigh dawned before Cuthbert flung himself upon one of the pallet beds in the cave, and fell asleep from sheer weariness of mind and body; but he was young, and sleep came quickly and held him in a fast embrace. The silence and darkness of this underground place were favourable to a long spell of repose. The youth did not open his eyes till the sun had passed its meridian many hours, though no ray of daylight glinted into that dim abode.

It might have been the middle of the night for all he knew when he opened his eyes once again; and when he did so he lay perfectly still, for he was convinced that he was yet in the midst of some strange dream. He was in the cave of red sandstone where he had fallen asleep, lying in the darkest corner of all upon a straw pallet, with his sad-coloured cloak over him; but the cave itself was lighter than it had been when he had fallen asleep. Two torches flamed upon the table, and by the bright flame they cast upon the objects near to them, Cuthbert saw a strange and weird-looking figure.

This figure was that of a man, who was seated at table, and had evidently been partaking of some refreshment. He was dressed in outlandish garb, and in a fashion which was only affected now by very old men, who had worn such garments all their lives, and were averse to change. Cuthbert had occasionally seen such a dress amongst the aged folks about his home, but this was more fanciful than any assumed by a mere rustic, and gave to the tall thin figure a certain air of distinction. A soft felt hat with a high crown lay upon the table; and the light shone full upon a face that was seamed by tiny wrinkles, and upon a thick head of hair that was either flaxen or white, Cuthbert could scarcely say which. The face was almost entirely hidden by a tangled growth of beard as white as snow, which beard descended almost to the man's waist, and was of wonderful fineness and bushiness. At the first glance the impression produced by this strange apparition was that he was a man immensely old; but a closer examination might well raise doubts. The air and bearing of the man were strangely alert for an octogenarian, and the way in which he tackled the hard bread and cheese which still stood before him was scarcely like the fashion in which the aged generally eat.

Cuthbert held his breath as he gazed. Was this a dream--the outcome of his talk with the gipsy? No, he was awake; he became more and more sure of it. But lying perfectly still, and not betraying his presence by so much as a deeply-drawn breath, he gazed and gazed as if fascinated upon the face of this strange being, and in his heart he said:

"Long Robin himself!"

He was certain of it; there could be no manner of mistake. Dress, air, everything corresponded with Joanna's description. For a moment a sick fear crossed his mind lest he should have left upon the table the fragment of parchment with the mystic words upon it, for he had had no idea that the cave would be invaded that night. But no; the habit of caution had been strong within him, and he had put the paper away before retiring to his corner. Plainly the man before him had no suspicion that any living soul was near. The deep shadows of the cave hid Cuthbert completely from view, and the secret entrance to the inner cave was doubtless known to very few. None would suspect the presence of a hidden stranger there.

As Cuthbert watched as if fascinated, Robin ceased eating, and pushed back his stool, rising to his feet quickly, and showing the grand proportions of his tall figure, which certainly deserved the epithet of "long." He stretched