“True,” replied the count, “half-way! but you go the whole distance. What prudent man would beard the lion in his den?”
“I never was a prudent man,” rejoined Dick, smiling; “I have no superfluous caution about me. Come what will, I shall try to find out this Luke Rookwood, and offer him my purse, such as it is, and it is now better lined than usual; a hand free to act as he lists; and a head which, imprudent though it be, can often think better for others than for its own master.”
“Vastly fine!” exclaimed the count, with an ill-disguised sneer. “I hope you don’t forget that the marriage certificate which you hold is perfectly valueless now. The estates, you are aware—”
“Are no longer Sir Luke’s. I see what you are driving at, count,” returned Dick, coldly. “But he will need it to establish his claim to the title, and he shall have it. While he was Sir Luke with ten thousand a year, I drove a hard bargain, and would have stood out for the last stiver. Now he is one of ‘us,’ a mere Knight of the Road, he shall have it and welcome.”
“Perhaps Lady Rookwood, or Mrs. Mowbray, might be inclined to treat,” maliciously insinuated the count; “the title may be worth something to Ranulph.”
“It is worth more to Luke; and if it were not, he gets it. Are you satisfied?”
“Perfectly,” replied the count, with affected bonhomie; “and I will now let you into a secret respecting Miss Mowbray, from which you may gather something for your guidance in this matter; and if the word of woman is at all to be trusted, though individually I cannot say I have much faith in it, Sir Luke’s planetary hour is not yet completely overcast.”
“That’s exactly what I wish to know, my dear fellow,” said Turpin, eagerly. “You have already told me you were witness to a singular interview between Miss Mowbray and Sir Luke after my departure from the Priory. If I mistook you not, the whole business will hinge upon that. What occurred? Let me have every particular. The whole history and mystery.”
“You shall have it with pleasure,” said the count; “and I hope it may tend to your benefit. After I had quitted the scene of action at the Priory, and at your desire left the Rookwood party masters of the field, I fled with the rest of the crew towards the rocks. There we held a council of war for a short time. Some were for returning to the fight; but this was negatived entirely, and in the end it was agreed that those who had wives, daughters and sisters, should join them as speedily as possible at their retreat in the Grange. As I happened to have none of these attractive ties, and had only a troublesome mistress, who I thought could take care of herself, I did not care to follow them, but struck deeper into the wood, and made my way, guided by destiny, I suppose, towards the cave.”
“The cave!” cried Dick, rubbing his hands; “I delight in a cave. Tom King and I once had a cave of our own at Epping, and I’ll have another one of these fine days. A cave is as proper to a high-tobyman as a castle to a baron. Pray go on.”
“The cave I speak of,” continued the count, “was seldom used, except upon great emergencies, by any of the Stop-Hole Abbey crew. It was a sort of retiring den of our old lioness Barbara, and, like all belonging to her, respected by her dupes. However, the cave is a good cave for all that; is well concealed by brushwood, and comfortably lighted from a crevice in the rock above; it lies near the brink of the stream, amongst the woods, just above the waterfall, and is somewhat difficult of approach.”
“I know something of the situation,” said Turpin.
“Well,” returned the count, “not to lose time, into this den I crept, and, expecting to find it vacant, you may imagine my surprise on discovering that it was already occupied, and that Sir Luke Rookwood, his granddad, old Alan, Miss Mowbray, and worst of all, the very person I wished most to avoid, my old flame Handassah, constituted the party. Fortunately, they did not perceive my entrance, and I took especial care not to introduce myself. Retreat, however, was for the moment impracticable, and I was compelled to be a listener. I cannot tell what had passed between the parties before my arrival, but I heard Miss Mowbray implore Sir Luke to conduct her to her mother. He seemed half inclined to comply with her entreaties; but old Alan shook his head.