CHAPTER CXIII.

ESTHER DE MEDINA AND OLD DEATH.

It was on the third day after the explanations given to Dr. Lascelles,

and between five and six o’clock in the evening, that Esther de Medina

was conducted by the Blackamoor into the subterranean passage, the

latter holding a lamp in his hand.

“Shall I remain near you, Esther?” he enquired, in a whisper.

“No--it is not necessary,” she answered. “I am not afraid of being in

this place, gloomy as it appears; and since I am merely to address the

miserable man through the trap-door of his dungeon, no harm can reach

me.”

Thus speaking, she turned and received the light from her

companion,--her manner being calm and even resolute, though her

countenance was very pale.

“God bless you, Esther!” said the Black, emphatically: “your

willingness to aid me in this important matter is not the least

admirable trait in your character!”

“It is a duty--though a painful one,” responded the beautiful Jewess.

“And now leave me--I would rather proceed alone to the prisoner’s cell.”

“Remember,” said the Blackamoor, “it is the last on the right hand side

of this long subterranean passage.”

He then retraced his way up the stone-staircase communicating with

the house in Red Lion Street, while Esther advanced along the gloomy

cavern, in which the lamp shone but with feeble lustre.

In less than a minute she reached the door of Old Death’s dungeon: and

there she paused for nearly another minute, a sensation of loathing

and horror preventing her from immediately announcing her presence to

the terrible inmate of that cell. For the Black, in order to prepare

her as fully and completely as possible for her philanthropic mission,

had been compelled to reveal to her all the details of those dreadful

designs which Benjamin Bones had cherished against herself and Lady

Hatfield, and which had been made known through the medium of John

Jeffreys. It was therefore natural that Esther de Medina should

shrink from the bare idea of holding the slightest communication with

a miscreant of so ferocious a character: but a short--a very short

interval of reflection was soon sufficient to arm her with the courage

necessary to support the ordeal.

Drawing back the sliding-panel which covered the small aperture in the

upper part of the massive door, she said in her soft, musical voice,

“Prisoner, will you grant me your attention for a few minutes?”

“Who are you?” demanded Old Death, starting as if from a lethargic

state--a movement that was indicated by the sudden rustling of his

garments and the creaking of the bed whereon he was placed.

“I am Esther de Medina,” was the answer; and the beautiful Jewess

allowed the lamp to cast its light upon her countenance, which was so

close to the aperture that Old Death caught a momentary but perfect

view of her features.

She then placed the lamp upon the ground, thus again leaving the

interior of the cell in complete darkness.

“Yes--it is Miss Esther de Medina!” exclaimed Benjamin Bones, in a

voice which he endeavoured to render as mild and conciliatory as

possible. “Dear young lady, open the door, and let me out of this

horrible place. I am sure you possess a good heart----”

“A heart good enough to forgive you for the dreadful atrocity which you

contemplated against me upwards of two months ago,” interrupted Esther,

scarcely able to subdue a shuddering sensation which came over her.

“Yes--I know every thing,” she continued: “you would have entrapped

me into your power--you would have deprived me of the blessing of

sight,--and yet I never, never injured you.”

“But you say that you forgive me!” cried Old Death, impatiently.

“Open the door, then, my sweet young lady--and I will find means to

reward you well. Listen,” he exclaimed, approaching the trap, and

speaking in a confidential kind of hollow, murmuring whisper,--“don’t

be offended at what I am going to say--but I know that you are fond

of jewellery--and it is natural for such a beautiful creature as you

are----”

“Silence, sir!” interrupted Esther, indignantly. “I am well aware to

what you allude; and it is time to undeceive you on that head,” she

added, in a proud tone: “indeed, there is no longer any necessity for

concealment in that respect! In my turn I desire you to listen--and

listen attentively. You entertain a belief so prejudicial to my

character, that I cannot allow even such an one as _you_ to cherish

it another minute. Know, then, that I have a sister so like myself in

outward appearance----”

“By Satan! it must be so,” ejaculated Old Death, a light breaking in

upon his mind as in a single moment he took a rapid survey of all the

circumstances which had originally led him to suppose that Esther

was the thief of Mr. Gordon’s diamonds and the mistress of Tom Rain.

“Yes--yes--I understand it all now!” he added, in a tone that appeared

to imply vexation at his former blindness in respect to these matters.

“With pain and sorrow am I thus compelled to allude to a sister who is

so dear--so very dear to me,” resumed Esther: “but this explanation was

necessary--not only for my own sake, but likewise to convince you of

the folly and wickedness of endeavouring to induce _me_, by the promise

of reward or bribe, to draw back the bolts of your prison-door. No--my

visit to you is inspired by the earnest desire to move your soul to the

contemplation of all the dreadful deeds which have marked your life----”

“Then you will not set me free?” exclaimed Old Death, in a tone of

subdued rage and latent ferocity.

“Not now--not now,” repeated Esther. “But listen to me attentively!”

“Go on,” growled the inmate of the dungeon, as he retreated from the

door, and threw himself upon his bed again.

“If you entertain the slightest hope that you will ever be allowed

an opportunity to re-enter on a course of wickedness and crime, you

are sadly mistaken,” continued Esther, speaking in a conciliatory and

yet energetic tone. “Even were you liberated this moment, measures

would be adopted to render you completely powerless for the future

in respect to the perpetration of fresh enormities. Reflect, then,

whether it will not be better for you to devote the remainder of your

days--and in the ordinary course of nature they must necessarily be

few--to the important duty of making your peace with heaven! Do not

despair of pardon--oh! no--do not despair! You see that I, who am a

mortal being, can forgive you for the wrongs you meditated against

me,--and surely the mercy of heaven is greater than that of human

creatures! Yes--repent ere it be too late; and God will not cast you

off eternally. _His_ mercy is infinite: _His_ pardon is never asked in

vain by the penitent sinner.”

“Continue to speak to me thus,” cried Old Death, in a tone strangely

subdued and wondrously meek, considering the ferocious excitement which

so lately animated him.

“Oh! I sincerely hope that you will recognise the error of your ways,

ere it be indeed too late!” exclaimed Esther, in a tone of enthusiasm

deeply felt by her generous soul. “Consider your advanced age--and

think how soon the hand of Death may be laid upon you! Then how

wretched--how awful would your feelings be,--and how would you shudder

at the idea of being about to stand in the presence of that Almighty

Power whose laws and mandates you have so often violated! For, after

all, what have you gained by your long, long career of wickedness? All

your treasures were annihilated in one hour----”

“Yes--yes,” interrupted Old Death, in a voice half suffocated with

emotions which the Jewess fondly believed to be those of remorse.

“The hoardings of many years and the produce of innumerable misdeeds

were thus swept away,” she continued, impressively; “and Providence

at length decreed that you should become a prisoner in the very place

where you had so long ruled as a master. Does not heaven, then, afford

you solemn and significant warnings that your career of crime is no

more to be pursued with success?--and do not those warnings move your

heart to repentance and remorse? Neglect not such warnings as these, I

conjure you!”

“Your words do me good, young lady!” exclaimed Old Death. “I am glad

that you have come thus to speak to me.”

“And shall you ponder upon what I have said?” she demanded.

“Yes. But you will not leave me yet?--and you will come again?” he

said, in a voice indicative of suspense and anxiety relative to the

answer that was to be given.

“I will return to-morrow,” observed Esther.

“Thank you!” exclaimed Old Death, his tone now denoting a profound

emotion.

But Esther did not immediately leave the vicinity of the cell on the

present occasion. Believing that she had succeeded in making some

salutary impression upon him, she was desirous of following up the

promising commencement of her mission; and she accordingly continued to

reason with him for nearly half-an-hour longer. In the course of the

observations and arguments which she addressed to the ancient sinner,

she displayed a sound judgment and a deep but enlightened religious

feeling: there was nothing bigoted--nothing fanatical in her language.

She indulged in no quotations from the Old Testament--the book that

formed the basis of her own nation’s creed: but she expatiated on the

goodness of the Creator--the hope that exists for penitent sinners--the

terrors of a death-bed without previous repentance--and the folly, as

well as the wickedness, of the course already pursued by the prisoner.

Old Death interrupted her but seldom; and when he did interject an

observation, it was in a tone and of a nature calculated to inspire the

charming Jewess with the hope that her mission had not been undertaken

in vain.

At length she quitted the vicinity of the cell, having reiterated her

promise to return on the following day.

And this pledge was faithfully kept;--and again do we find the Hebrew

maiden persevering in her humane--her noble task of awakening proper

feelings in the breast of a terrible sinner. To her question whether

he had meditated upon his spiritual condition, Old Death replied

earnestly and eagerly in the affirmative; and throughout this second

visit, he not only sought to retain the young lady near him--or rather

at his door--as long as possible, but likewise seemed sincere in his

endeavours to inspire her with the belief that her reasoning and her

representations had not been thrown away upon him.

On the third day, Esther fancied that there was even a still more

striking change in his language when he responded to her questions or

her remarks; and not once, during the hour that she remained standing

outside his dungeon, addressing him in a style of fervid eloquence

which came from her very heart,--not once, we say, did he give the

least sign of that ferocity and savage impatience which characterised

his behaviour on the first occasion of her visit.

For a fortnight did the Hebrew maiden continue her visits regularly,

without however venturing to enter the dungeon. On the fifteenth day

she found the prisoner anxiously expecting her arrival as usual; and

almost immediately after she had drawn aside the panel and announced

her presence, he said, “Oh! dear young lady, I am so glad you are come!

I have been thinking so much--so very much over all you have lately

told me; and I have felt comforted by repeating to myself the arguments

you advance urging me to repentance. Ah! Miss, I have been a dreadful

sinner--a dreadful sinner; and I see that I am righteously punished.

But though I am penitent, you have no confidence in me yet--and that

gives me pain. Yon are afraid to trust yourself with me! Do you think

that I would harm you?”

“I hope not,” replied Esther; “and you shall not much longer have to

accuse me of want of confidence in you. I am pleased to observe that

you at length _feel_ how shocking it is to become an object of mistrust

and suspicion.”

“You are an angel, young lady!” exclaimed Benjamin Bones, approaching

the door on the outer side of which stood the Hebrew maiden. “No one on

earth save yourself could have made such an impression upon my mind,

and in so short a time. But will you promise me one thing?”

“Name your request,” said Esther.

“That you will not send any man to converse with me,” answered Old

Death. “You are of the gentle sex--and that is why your sweet voice has

had such power and influence with me. Had that gentleman--whoever he

is--continued to visit me, he would have done no good. I suspect my own

sex:--I do not think that men can be so sincere--so conscientious----”

“The gentleman to whom you allude will not visit you again without your

consent,” interrupted Esther. “I have undertaken this mission, and will

fulfil it to the utmost of my ability. I have now something important

to communicate,--important indeed, I should imagine, to one who has

been so long in darkness. In a word, I intend to give you a lamp----”

“Oh! excellent young lady!” cried Benjamin Bones, in a voice expressive

of the most unfeigned joy. “Make haste and open the door--give me the

light----”

“Nay--I must not manifest too much confidence, in you all at once. See

what it is to have been so long the votary of crime and wickedness--you

inspire a mistrust which cannot be dissipated in a moment.”

“What can I do to convince you of my penitence--my gratitude?” demanded

Old Death, in an earnest--anxious tone.

“Leave me to judge for myself relative to your state of mind,”

said Esther. “You perceive that I already begin to entertain hopes

concerning you: the proof is that I now give you a lamp--and a book

also, if you have a sincere inclination to examine its pages.”

As she uttered these words, Esther unfastened the grating which covered

the aperture, and passed the lamp through to Old Death--then the volume

to which she had alluded.

The light flashed upon his countenance as he received the lamp; and it

struck Esther that there was something hideous even in the expression

of joy which now animated those repulsive features:--but she knew that

looks which had grown sinister and become stamped with ferocious menace

during the lapse of many, many years, could not be changed nor improved

in a moment, however great were the moral reformation that had taken

place within.

“Thanks, dear young lady--a thousand thanks!” exclaimed Old Death, as

he placed the lamp upon the table: then, after a few minutes’ pause,

during which he looked into the book, he said in a tone of surprise,

“But you have brought me a Bible containing the New as well as the Old

Testament--and yet yourself only believe in the latter?”

“I respect the religion of the Christian, although I have been taught

to put no faith in it,” answered Esther de Medina, in a modest and

subdued tone. “But I must now depart: and to-morrow I shall visit you

again.”

Esther withdrew, in the firm belief that a most salutary impression

had been made upon the mind of one of the greatest criminals of modern

times. Her report was received with the most heart-felt joy by the

Blackamoor; and he was enthusiastic in his expressions of gratitude

towards the beautiful maiden for her exertions in what may unaffectedly

be denominated “a good cause.”

“Do you return to Finchley Manor with me this evening?” she asked,

cutting short his compliments with a good-humoured smile.

“No--I have particular business to attend to, Esther,” he replied. “But

you may tell a certain young lady,” he added, now smiling in his turn,

“that I shall be sure to see her to-morrow evening.”

“To-morrow!” repeated Esther. “You forget----”

“Ah! I did indeed forget,” interrupted the Black. “To-morrow is the

day on which Arthur returns to town; and I must not risk a visit to

the Manor. The fortnight of his absence has soon expired, methinks:

but doubtless in that time he has made all the necessary preparation

to render his country seat in Kent fitting and comfortable to receive

his bride,” observed the Black, smiling again. “Nay--do not blush,

Esther: he is a noble fellow, and well deserving of all your love! And,

by the bye, this absence on his part has proved most serviceable in

one sense,” he continued, again assuming a serious tone: “for had he

remained in town, you never would have been able to devote the time you

have given each day to the reformation of that wretched man below.”

“To speak candidly,” observed Esther, “I foresee a considerable

difficulty relative to my future visits to the unhappy prisoner: but I

feared to mention my embarrassment in this respect--I fancied that you

might suppose me to be wearied of the task I had undertaken----”

“I know you too well to entertain such an injurious suspicion,”

interrupted the Black, hastily and emphatically. “But it is natural,

now that Arthur and yourself are so shortly to be united, that he

should seek your society as often and for as long a period each day as

circumstances will permit----”

“Yes,” observed Esther, with a modest blush: “and though his welfare

is so deeply interested in our present enterprise--though, in a word,

so many grave and important interests depend upon the success of our

endeavours to humanize and reform that wretched prisoner, and disarm

him for the future--still I could not stoop to any falsehood or

subterfuge to account to the Earl of Ellingham for my daily absence

from home for several hours. It is true that my father is in the secret

of our proceedings--that he even approved of the course which you

suggested, and which I have adopted----”

“Stay! an idea strikes me!” suddenly ejaculated the Black. “You told

me ere now that Benjamin Bones implored you to continue your visits to

him, and not allow me to take your place; and from this circumstance

we have both drawn favourable auguries relative to his ultimate

and complete repentance. He already looks upon you as his guardian

angel--the means of his salvation; and it would be perhaps productive

of evil results--it might even lead to a moral reaction on his

part--were he to believe that you had deserted him. You have so well

prepared the way in the grand work of reformation with regard to this

man, that _another_ might now undertake _your_ duties--and Benjamin

Bones would still continue to believe that it is the same Esther de

Medina who visits him.”

“I understand you,” said the Hebrew maiden, evidently rejoiced at

a suggestion which relieved her mind from the fear of a serious

difficulty. “But would _you_ be satisfied with such an arrangement?”

“I see no alternative,” replied the Black. “Arthur will call daily at

Finchley Manor--and your frequent absence would, to say the least of

it, appear strange.”

“Oh! wherefore not allow Arthur at once to be made acquainted with the

whole truth?” demanded Esther, in an earnest and appealing manner.

“No--no--that may not be!” exclaimed the Blackamoor. “My projects must

first be carried out to the very end: for it would be my pride and

my triumph, when all danger shall have passed away, to say to him,

‘_Arthur, you were surrounded by perils which you did not suspect:

demons were plotting every kind of atrocity against your peace;--and

I have annihilated all their schemes, and tamed the schemers

themselves!_’ Urge me not therefore, my dear Esther, to deviate from

the course which I have chalked out for myself, and which I consider

to be to some extent an atonement for the misdeeds of my own life.

Yes--for he who accomplishes a great good, assuredly expiates a great

amount of evil.”

“For heaven’s sake, recur not to the past!” murmured the beautiful

Jewess, turning pale and shuddering at the crowd of unpleasant--nay

awful reminiscences which her companion’s language recalled to her mind.

“No--let us deliberate only for the present,” exclaimed the Black; “and

the more I think of the plan which I have suggested, the more suitable

does it appear. Yes,” he continued, “this is the only alternative. Let

_your_ visits to Benjamin Bones cease, Esther--and yet let him still

continue to believe that he is not neglected nor deserted by Miss de

Medina. I need say no more: the rest lies with you.”

“I understand you,” returned the Hebrew maiden; “and it shall be as you

desire.”

She then took her departure.