Beyond The Blue Mountains - Plaidy Jean (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений .txt) 📗

“They must be removed at once,” she said.

“As soon as we can get some money they shall be,” Carolan assured her.

Kitty pointed out her grievance to one of the guards, showing him her swollen ankle. Queer, thought Carolan, how naturally the role of coquette came to Kitty; she would play it even in her moments of direst misery. But the man was dour; he shook his head. Irons could be bought off; he had never heard of them coming off for any other reason. Kitty was shocked at the refusal of her request, but the man’s indifference acted like a douche of cold water in her face. She brightened. Of course, she was looking frightful! Carolan seemed to see her reasoning to herself… Her cloak was torn, her skin scratched, her hair .. oh, her beautiful hair! These things could be remedied… and when had Kitty ever failed to get what she wanted from mankind? Carolan’s heart was filled with pity for this poor foolish Mamma.

During the second day a turnkey came into the prison room and called: “Haredon! Who is Haredon here?”

Carolan started to her feet.

“Carolan Haredon,” he said.

“Are you the one?”

“I am,” said Carolan.

“Then you had better come with me.”

“Why?” said Carolan.

The turnkey shrugged his shoulders.

“Orders was to bring you; not to tell what you’re wanted for.”

“Suppose I refuse to go!” cried Carolan, incensed by the cruel eyes of the man, and of all these men who found amusement in the torture, both mental and physical, of their fellow beings.

Esther caught at Carolan’s hand; Esther’s eyes were pleading with her. Never would she make this hot-headed, courageous, magnificent friend of hers understand that when you are helpless arrogance is a mistake.

The turnkey scratched his head.

“Orders has to be obeyed,” he said.

“Come on!”

Kitty began to cry softly. Millie stared open-mouthed; Esther’s lips were moving in silent prayer, Carolan turned to look at them; they thought something more fearful than what had gone before was about to happen to her. A flogging perhaps. Carolan’s courage began to quail.

“Who gave these orders?” she demanded in a loud, blustering voice, hoping that she was hiding her terror from her friends.

“Come along with you!” said the turnkey roughly, and would have laid hands on her, but she said, suddenly subdued: “Very well. Lead the way.”

Eyes followed her as she went through the room, watchful, speculative, excited eyes.

She was led through corridors, up steps and down again. She would never forget the mental suffering she endured on that walk! She could feel the lash about her shoulders. She had heard the prisoners say that blood sometimes came at the third lash … and that as the lashes went on, the victims fainted, and often when they did, the lashes were suspended until consciousness was regained.

The turnkey paused before a door. He hesitated; his little eyes looked full into her face; the corners of his lecherous mouth twitched as though he found it difficult to control his laughter; he was enjoying himself; he knew something of what her thoughts had been as he led her slowly through those dark corridors.

He threw open the door. Beyond him was a small room, and in it was a table, and on the table food was laid out; there was wine and cold roast chicken. That much she saw, and the sight of food made her dizzy. But a man had risen from the table; he was coming towards her. He took her hands, and said: “Carolan, my darling! What have they done to you?”

The turnkey snickered as he closed the door. She was alone with Marcus.

Marcus had not changed in the least; he kissed her hands.

“I heard, only an hour ago, that you were here,” he said.

“I hear the news, you know! And when I heard I sent out for this, and I sent for you to be my guest.”

“Marcus!” she said.

“Marcus!”

“No,” he said, ‘not Marcus now. William Henry Jedborough, who was sent to Botany Bay for fourteen years, and came back Marcus Markham after three. And now here is William Henry again… your friend who hopes to make your stay in Newgate a little more agreeable than it has hitherto been.”

“Marcus… who are you?”

“Not Marcus, darling. I always hated the name. William William Henry, a thief and a rogue, an escaped convict. Here I am … awaiting the death penalty.”

“The death penalty!”

“Ah! You grow pale at the thought. It is worth being sentenced to death to know you care so much.”

“You are the same. Such foolish, extravagant words!

“And you are the same. So quick to anger, and no attempt made to hide it… even from a poor man who is to be condemned to the gallows!”

“You joke about it.”

“Is it not a matter for joking? Let me whisper to you, Carolan the gallows are not going to get me!”

“How will you prevent it? You seem to have much power, Marcus.”

“William, darling… William Henry.

“I have thought of you as Marcus.”

“Then call me Marcus. It will always remind me that when I went abruptly from your life you thought of me.”

“Do you imagine one forgets one’s Wends and never thinks of them when they have gone out of one’s life ?”

“My sweet Carolan!”

“Please tell me what happened to you.”

“What is there to tell, my sweet? I came to meet you, as we arranged, and the man Crew met me at the corner of the street. He had his van and his accomplices waiting for me.”

“Did you think I had betrayed you?”

“I knew you had betrayed me.”

“How you must hate me.”

“On the contrary, my sweet Carolan, I love you.

“How foolish I have been! I brought it on us all.”

“You have never been anything but adorable.”

“Do not talk so foolishly. I brought him to the shop the very first day I came home. I betrayed my father and you… and now my father is dead, and you are about to die …”

She covered her face with her hands, and he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the table. He sat down on one of the wooden chairs, still holding her. He wiped her eyes tenderly.

“He would have got us, darling, sooner or later. He was waiting, you see. He knew I was a thief, but he wanted the highest ransom for me. He was waiting till I “weighed my 40”. As for your father, he would have got him too. No! It is you, my sweet Carolan, who have been so wronged; you who do not belong here. Look, Carolan, we must discuss what is to be done. First of all let us eat, for I hear you have been in this filthy place for two long days, and I know you must be hungry. See! I sent out for this chicken, it is tasty. And the wine is good. Now, child, we will eat together and we will talk.”

“I am bewildered,” she said.

“You have such power … you, a condemned man!”

“Certainly I have power. I have my business associates outside Newgate. I have money! Money is power: it buys me this room; it buys me this food. It buys me your company … There is not so much to fear from law and order when you have money, Carolan.”

“I cannot sit here and eat with you,” she said, her eyes on the chicken. How good it looked! Golden brown! How hungry she was … faint and sick with hunger!

“Did you not hear that my mother is in Newgate with me ?”

“I did hear. We will send for her.”

“She could not walk here… the irons …”

“They shall be struck off, my dear. Yours too. All but the one pair, and that is not so hard to bear when you have had to drag three about with you. Your mother shall come and share our meal.”

“I don’t know how to thank you. It is noble of you, when it was I who

…”

“Hush! There is nothing noble about me. Did you not know that? I will see to it that your mother’s irons are struck off. and that she is brought here at once.”

There is Millie too. And Esther… They must all come, or you must give me that chicken and I will take it back and eat it with them.”