The Buccaneer - A Tale

The fragment of the tower in which Barbara was perched was a small

projecting turret-room, standing on the top of a buttress, and had been,

doubtless, used in the early ages, as a species of sentry-box, from

which a soldier could command a view of the country and the coast. It

was with feelings of extreme terror that she perceived Burrell and

Roupall close beneath her, standing so as to be concealed from the

observation of any passenger who might go to or from the dwelling. She

drew her dark cloak over her head and face, leaving only an opening to

peep through, anxious to avoid, by every means in her power, the hazard

of a discovery. She could gather from the conversation between the two,

that Burrell was describing to Roupall something that he must do, and

offering him a large reward for its completion; she listened eagerly,

and heard them frequently speak of Cecil Place and Walter De Guerre. Her

attention, however, was soon drawn away by the appearance of a third

person--unseen by the others--creeping round a projecting corner, like a

tiger about to spring upon its prey, and then crouching close to the

earth. The form was that of a slight youth, clad in a tight-fitting

doublet and vest, and, it would seem, armed only with a dagger, which,

however, he carried unsheathed, and so openly that the moonbeams danced

upon its polished point, as lightning on a diamond, whenever he changed

its position in his hand (which he did more than once). He crept on so

silently that neither were at all aware of his approach, but continued

talking and bargaining as before. Barbara felt that danger was at hand;

and yet, had she the inclination, she had not the power to speak, but

sat breathlessly and tremblingly awaiting the result. Suddenly, but

still silently, as though the figure were a phantom, and the dagger

air-drawn, the boy rose from the ground, and held the weapon as if

irresolute whether to strike or not. The manner in which he stood fully

convinced Barbara Iverk that Burrell was the object of some intended

attack--she tried to shriek, but the voice choked in her throat. As

rapidly as this mysterious being had risen from, he sank into his

former crawling attitude, and disappeared. All this occurred in much

less time than has been occupied in relating it, and the poor maiden

almost thought she had been deceived by some supernatural appearance.

She was soon aroused from her painful state of voiceless terror by the

words of Burrell, who now spoke more loudly than at first.

"I will give him his liberty this very night, which of course, under the

circumstances I have mentioned, he cannot fail to consider a most deep

obligation--an act of disinterested generosity. I will give it him

secretly, of course; and you meet him on his exit. As we go along, I

will settle the where--and then--the matter is easily concluded."