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"So, so?" said she laughing, "times are changed at Walladmor. A good deliverance, eh? What, good deliverance to a smuggler?" "Yes, Mrs. Godber, even to a smuggler who happens to need it; but Captain Nicholas is not a smuggler." "No, but he is worse: he has been a captain of smugglers, and he is a traitor." "Whether he is a traitor, we do not yet know, Mrs. Godber.
Bertram, that Gillie Godber forfeited all hold on the public sympathy even amongst those whose rank indisposed them to judge Sir Morgan with any charity. All hearts were steeled against her.
As a leader of smugglers he has at least the excuse of his unfortunate situation and his youth." "Those were no excuses, Sir Morgan, twenty-four years ago." "Woe is me, Mrs. Godber, that they were not!" "So, so, so?" said she, chuckling with stifled laughter: "is it come to that? so then a worm may turn again, a poor worm may turn again when it is trod upon. And the worm may be a snake.
Both Miss Walladmor and her lover being generally favourites amongst the country people about Walladmor, it was a matter of some wonder to me whence such stories, which were clearly devised for their persecution, could arise; and at length I traced them to Gillie Godber.
Sir Morgan saw before him Mrs. Gillie Godber. As a person privileged to go whithersoever she would, Sir Morgan would not have felt much surprise at seeing her at this time or in this place: but there was something unusual in her appearance which excited his attention.
Now was Gillie Godber avenged: even in his own hall that hall which had echoed to her maternal groans and rung with the agony of her fruitless supplications, even there on the very spot where her curse was muttered had it taken effect: where it was breathed, there had it caught him: just where she stood he stood: where she was shaken as by fierce convulsions there was he shaken: where she raved he raved: and under the very light of that same lamp, which lighted up the ghastly despair of the wretched mother as she heard the decree which sealed for ever the fate of her blooming boy, did I read in Sir Morgan's features too surely a revelation of his foreboding soul, that one night had stripped him bare of comfort and left him a poor forlorn man to a life of self-reproach of shipwrecked hopes and blasted affections.
But for lady Walladmor, the meek and gentle lady that had wept with her wept for her pleaded for her prayed for her knelt for her; Gillie Godber, that was a mother by so bitter a mother's pang, to forget the mother's heart in her benefactress; she, that mourned for a son, to tear the infants for ever from their mother's breasts, and consign them oh! heart of Herod to a life worse than a thousand deaths amongst robbers, pirates, murderers, this it was that blotted out from all men's memories her own wrongs, cancelled and tore the record of her sufferings.
I will contrive to communicate with you in a day or two by means of Tom Godber the young man who spoke to me as we left Ap Gauvon." "Ah! by the way, I thought I knew his voice: he is the son then of old Mrs. Gillie Godber from Anglesea?" "Exactly: and he is a helper in the stables at Walladmor Castle.
I can read what's written there. Do you think that nobody's barns must be hanged but mine?" "But who then was it, my good Mrs. Godber, that hanged your son?" "Who should it be but the old master of Walladmor? He knows by this time what it is to have the heart-ache. Oh kite! he tore my lamb from me. But, hark in your ear Sir Lawyer! I visited his nest, old ravening kite!
He had learned also from Tom Godber the secret of the filial relation in which he himself stood to Sir Morgan. Even this contributed to tranquillize him, by taking away all color of presumption from his own addresses to Miss Walladmor, and all color of degradation from her with which hereafter the censorious might else have reproached her.
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