“Will you suffer that?” said Lady Rookwood, tauntingly, to her son.
“No,” replied Ranulph; “such profanation of the dead shall not be endured, were he ten times my brother. Stand aside,” added he, advancing towards the bier, and motioning Luke away. “Withdraw your hand from my father’s body, and remove what you have placed upon it.”
“I will neither remove it, nor suffer it to be removed,” returned Luke. “‘Twas for that purpose I came hither.’Twas to that hand he was united in life, in death he shall not be divided from it.”
“Such irreverence shall not be,” exclaimed Ranulph, seizing Luke with one hand, and snatching at the cereclothes with the other. “Remove it, or by Heaven—”
“Leave go your hold,” said Luke, in a voice of thunder; “you strive in vain.”
Ranulph ineffectually attempted to push him backwards; and shaking away the grasp that was fixed upon his collar, seized his brother’s wrist, so as to prevent the accomplishment of his purpose. In this unnatural and indecorous strife, the corpse of their father was reft of its covering, and the hand discovered lying upon the pallid breast.
And as if the wanton impiety of their conduct called forth an immediate rebuke, even from the dead, a frown seemed to pass over Sir Piers’s features, as their angry glances fell in that direction. This startling effect was occasioned by the approach of Lady Rookwood, whose shadow, falling over the brow and visage of the deceased, produced the appearance we have described. Simultaneously quitting each other, with a deep sense of shame, mingled with remorse, both remained, their eyes fixed upon the dead, whose repose they had violated.
Folding the graveclothes decently over the body, Luke prepared to depart.
“Hold!” cried Lady Rookwood; “you go not hence.”
“My brother Ranulph will not oppose my departure,” returned Luke; “who else shall prevent it?”
“That will I,” cried a sharp voice behind him; and, ere he could turn to ascertain from whom the exclamation proceeded, Luke felt himself grappled by two nervous assailants, who, snatching the pistol from his hold, fast pinioned his arms. This was scarcely the work of a moment, and he was a prisoner before he could offer any resistance. A strong smile of exultation evinced Lady Rookwood’s satisfaction.
“Bravo, my lads, bravo!” cried Coates, stepping forward, for he it was under whose skilful superintendence the seizure had been effected: “famously managed; my father, the thief-taker’s runners couldn’t have done it better—hand me that pistol—loaded, I see—slugs, no doubt—oh, he’s a precious rascal—search him—turn his pockets inside out while I speak to her ladyship.” Saying which, the brisk attorney, enchanted with the feat he had performed, approached Lady Rookwood with a profound bow, and an amazing smirk of self-satisfaction. “Just in time to prevent mischief,” said he; “hope your ladyship does not suffer any inconvenience from the alarm—beg pardon, annoyance I meant to say—which this horrible outrage must have occasioned; excessively disagreeable this sort of thing to a lady any time, but at a period like this more than usually provoking. However, we have the villain safe enough. Very lucky I happened to be in the way. Perhaps your ladyship would like to know how I discovered—”
“Not now,” replied Lady Rookwood, checking the volubility of the man of law. “I thank you, Mr. Coates, for the service you have rendered me; you will now add materially to the obligation by removing the prisoner with all convenient despatch.”
“Certainly, if your ladyship wishes it. Shall I detain him a close prisoner in the hall for the night, or remove him at once to the lock-up house in the village?”
“Where you please, so you do it quickly,” replied Lady Rookwood, noticing, with great uneasiness, the agitated manner of her son, and apprehensive lest, in the presence of so many witnesses, he might say or do something prejudicial to their interests. Nor were her fears groundless. As Coates was about to return to the prisoner, he was arrested by the voice of Ranulph, commanding him to stay.
“Mr. Coates,” said he, “however appearances may be against this man, he is no robber—you must, therefore, release him.”
“Eh day, what’s that? release him, Sir Ranulph?”