A group of the tenantry, many of whom were in a state of intoxication, had, in the meantime, formed themselves round the prisoner. Whatever might be the nature of his thoughts, no apprehension was visible in Luke’s countenance. He stood erect amidst the assemblage, his tall form towering above them all, and his eyes fixed upon the movements of Lady Rookwood and her son. He had perceived the anguish of the latter, and the vehemence of the former, attributing both to their real causes. The taunts and jeers, threats and insolent enquiries, of the hinds who thronged round him, passed unheeded; yet one voice in his ear, sharp as the sting of a serpent, made him start. It was that of the sexton.
“You have done well,” said Peter, “have you not? Your fetters are, I hope, to your liking. Well! a wilful man must have his own way, and perhaps the next time you will be content to follow my advice. You must now free yourself, the best way you can, from these Moabites, and I promise you it will be no easy matter. Ha! ha!”
Peter withdrew into the crowd; and Luke, vainly endeavouring to discover his retreating figure, caught the eye of Jack Palmer fixed upon himself, with a peculiar and very significant expression.
At this moment Mr. Coates made his appearance.
“Bring forward the prisoner,” said the man of law to his two assistants; and Luke was accordingly hurried along, Mr. Coates using his best efforts to keep back the crowd. It was during the pressure that Luke heard a voice whisper in his ear, “Never fear, all’s right”; and turning his head he became aware of the propinquity of Jack Palmer. The latter elevated his eyebrows with a gesture of silence, and Luke passed on as if nothing had occurred. He was presently confronted with Lady Rookwood and her son; and, notwithstanding the efforts of Mr. Coates, seconded by some few others, the crowd grew dense around them.
“Remove his fetters,” said Ranulph. And his manacles were removed.
“You will consent to remain here a prisoner until tomorrow.”
“I consent to nothing,” replied Luke; “I am in your hands.”
“He does not deserve your clemency, Sir Ranulph,” interposed Coates.
“Let him take his own course,” said Lady Rookwood; “he will reap the benefit of it anon.”
“Will you pledge yourself not to depart?” asked Ranulph.
“Of course,” cried the attorney; “to be sure he will. Ha, ha!”
“No,” returned Luke haughtily, “I will not—and you will detain me at your proper peril.”
“Better and better,” exclaimed the attorney. “This is the highest joke I ever heard.”
“I shall detain you, then, in custody, until proper enquiries can be made,” said Ranulph. “To your care, Mr. Coates, and to that of Mr. Tyrconnel, whom I must request to lend you his assistance, I commit the charge; and I must further request, that you will show him every attention which his situation will permit. Remove him. We have a sacred duty to the dead to fulfil, to which even justice to the living must give way. Disperse this crowd, and let instant preparations be made for the completion of the ceremonial. You understand me, sir.”
“Ranulph Rookwood,” said Luke, sternly, as he departed, “you have another—a more sacred office, to perform. Fulfil your duty to your father’s son.”
“Away with him,” cried Lady Rookwood. “I am out of all patience with this trifling. Follow me to my chamber,” added she to her son, passing towards the door. The concourse of spectators, who had listened to this extraordinary scene in astonishment, made way for her instantly, and she left the room, accompanied by Ranulph. The prisoner was led out by the other door.
“Botheration!” cried Titus to Mr. Coates, as they followed in the wake, “why did he choose out me? I’ll lose the funeral entirely by his arrangement.”
“That you will,” replied Palmer. “Shall I be your deputy?”
“No, no,” returned Coates. “I will have no other than Mr. Tyrconnel. It was Sir Ranulph’s express wish.”
“That’s the devil of it,” returned Titus; “and I, who was to have been chief mourner, and have made all the preparations, am to be omitted. I wish Sir Ranulph had stayed till tomorrow—what could bring him here, to spoil all?—it’s cursedly provoking!”