"This is a lamentable and very sad visitation, my lord," said Colonel Thistleton, as soon as he was seated with two companions in the large room we have before described.
"It is indeed, colonel," replied Lord Walton, "and will cost me at least ten thousand pounds to repair; so that I hope you have not come for anything like a benevolence, such as our kings of old used sometimes to levy upon their subjects, for I could ill spare one to the honourable house just now.----Langan," he continued to the servant who appeared at the door, "have wine and meat set out in the hall. We shall all want refreshment."
"No, my lord," replied Colonel Thistleton, with some degree of hesitation; "the houses of parliament resort to no illegal and unjustifiable acts of taxation. Labouring but for the defence of themselves, of the king's person, and the liberty and laws of the kingdom, they take care to abide by the true rights and customs of the country; but at the same time, my lord, they think it but proper and necessary, as well for the safety of the state as for the exculpation of persons unjustly accused, to inquire into and examine, either by the judges appointed by law, or by a committee of their own body, where any highly honourable and devout person is subjected to calumny, into all charges of resistance to the authority of the two houses, or of conspiracy for the purpose of levying war and further endangering the condition of the poor distracted realm."
The colour somewhat increased in Lord Walton's cheek, but without pause he replied, gravely--
"They are quite right, sir; and if, as I gather from what you say, you are come into this part of the country upon such an errand, you will find me very ready and willing to give you every assistance in my power."
Now, the commission Colonel Thistleton had to perform was of a nature somewhat delicate; for the demeanour of the Walton family, at the first resistance shown to the arbitrary proceedings of the court, had been favourable to the views of general freedom, which were then alone apparent on the side of the parliament; and though it had become evident that the young lord had grown cold as they stretched their pretensions, and had even remonstrated against several of their proceedings, yet his course had not been so decided as to cut off all hope of attaching him to the party favourable to resistance of the royal authority by arms, while the task that the worthy committee-man was charged to execute was one likely to alienate him for ever, if the grounds for suspicion were found unreasonable. However, he was a skilful man, ever ready to take advantage of opportunity, and he therefore replied--
"I was quite sure, my lord, that we should find every readiness in your lordship. We have, indeed, the unpleasant duty to perform (which I trust we shall do discreetly) of investigating charges against a number of persons in this country; but as it is advisable that those in whose affection and loyalty we have the utmost confidence should set an example to others against whom there is just cause of suspicion, it is as well that I should inform your lordship that not long since, at Chippenham, a false and calumnious accusation was made against you to our worthy brother, Dr. Bastwick, here present----"
"Of which I do not credit a word," added the doctor.
"Charging you with countenancing the cruel preparations for war made by the king against his loyal subjects, and with having entered into correspondence with his majesty, and received a commission under his hand to levy horse against the honourable houses."
He paused, as if for a reply, and Lord Walton, with a frowning brow and flushed cheek, answered--
"So, sir, I am to suppose, in short, that you have come hither to examine my house, and search for the correspondence you speak of?"
"Exactly, sir," replied a less prudent member of the committee, named Batten; but Thistleton cut him short by adding, "We are perfectly sure that your lordship, whose family have always been godly and well-disposed, would rejoice at an opportunity of showing the world how readily you would submit to the authority of parliament, and clear yourself of all false and unjust reproaches."
"Should such reproaches against a person of such a character be listened to for a moment?" asked the young nobleman; "and on my word, gentlemen," he added, "you are somewhat bold men to venture on the task."
"Not so bold as you give us credit for, my lord," replied Batten, taking once more the reply out of Thistleton's mouth: "there is a troop of horse under your park wall."
"Then it seems," rejoined Lord Walton, "that you did not really calculate upon such unresisting submission as you affected to expect at first. I must, of course, yield to force. However," he continued with a smile, "I am certainly not prepared to resist, even if I were willing."
"That want of preparation shows your lordship to be innocent," answered the cautious Thistleton--"a point upon which I have no doubt. It was judged necessary to institute inquiries into all cases of malignant resistance to the authority of parliament in this country; and it was to meet any opposition in such instances that the troop of horse was sent, not against your lordship, of whose conduct we are quite sure, though we thought it would show unrighteous partiality if we did not in some way notice the charges made against you----"
"Charges made upon oath, be it remarked," said Dr. Bastwick.
"Well, gentlemen," rejoined Lord Walton, "it is useless to discuss this question further. I will even take it for granted that you have due warrant for your proceeding, and merely ask what you intend to do next."
"Why, the fact is this, my very good lord," replied Thistleton: "the information stated that we should find the papers in question in the west tower, in a chamber used by your lordship as a cabinet or writing-room, on the first floor from the ground. Now, I was informed but now, that two large chests which I saw on the terrace without contained writings of value, which had just been removed from the fire. It would be satisfactory to us to look into those cases."
"Surely not to-night," said the young nobleman.
"I think it would be expedient," said Thistleton.
"It would prevent evil surmises," added Bastwick.
"No time like the present," cried Batten. "The king's commission might be gone before to-morrow."
"The keys, I fear, have been lost in the fire," answered Lord Walton, giving him a look of contempt.
"They will easily be broken open," replied Batten.
"I may not exactly like to have all my papers left open to the world," said the young nobleman, gravely; "but having now clearly ascertained how far the suspicions of the parliament really go, I will make no further objection. But I give you all notice, that I protest against this act; and that when next I take my place amongst the peers of England, I will move for an inquiry into the whole proceeding.----Without there! bring in those cases of papers, and some instrument for forcing open the locks." Thus saying, he rose, and, turning to the window, looked out upon the terrace, which was still partially illuminated by the fitful glare of the decaying fire in the tower.
In a few minutes four stout servants appeared, carrying in the chests, and having received orders to break them open, soon laid the contents bare before the eager eyes of the parliamentary commissioners. Great, however, was their disappointment to perceive nothing on the top but old deeds and parchments, with many a waxen seal pendent from its broad ribbon. They were not so easily satisfied, however, and proceeded to turn out the whole contents, strewing the floor of the saloon with yellow papers, while Lord Walton spoke a few words to Langan, who left the room.
"Well, gentlemen, are you satisfied?" asked the young nobleman at length, when the bottom of each case was laid bare. "If so, the servants shall replace the papers, and we will to supper."
The committee whispered together for a moment ere they replied, but Lord Walton could catch the words "No, no! not now. To-morrow at daybreak. There has evidently been no preparation. Have up the troop by that time," and other broken sentences, which evidently showed him that further proceedings were in contemplation.
"We will, my lord, put off any further perquisitions till to-morrow," Colonel Thistleton replied at length, "upon your lordship pledging us your word of honour that you will not leave the house, nor send out of it any paper of any kind or sort whatever."
"I shall most assuredly leave the house," replied Lord Walton, "for I am going in five minutes to assure myself that the fire will spread no farther. But if you mean that I am not to absent myself, I have no intention of so doing, and will promise to stay and entertain my unexpected guests as befits their quality and commission: nor will I send hence or make away with any paper, from the warrant of array directed by Henry II. to my ancestor, down to the cellar-book of the old butler. So now, sirs, to supper; and let us forget for the time all that is unpleasant in our meeting. The day will come, and that before the world is a week older, when I will deal with this matter in the proper place and in the proper manner."
"Be that as you please, my lord," replied Thistleton; "we doubt not we shall be justified. Myself and Dr. Bastwick will in the mean time gladly accept your hospitality. Captain Batten, however, may be wanted with his troop."
"Nay," cried the young lord, "it were a pity to deprive yourselves of one of your most able and active members. If Captain Batten have any orders to give, he can send them in writing. There lie paper and pens, and I remarked that he had a trooper without. My wine is good, gentlemen, and venison is yet in season."
"It will do as well to write," said Batten, who, always ready to take his part in all that was unpleasant, was not without inclination to share in things more agreeable; and proceeding to the writing-table in the window, he had soon concocted a hasty note, which he carried out himself; while the rest, with the owner of the mansion, proceeded to the eating-hall.
When the meal was over--and the commissioners did not spare it--Lord Walton ordered them to be conducted to the rooms prepared for them, and took leave, saying, "Tomorrow, gentlemen, at five, if you please, we will proceed to further business. In the mean while, good night."
The beds were soft and downy, the guests of Lord Walton tired with the fatigues of the preceding day, and it was somewhat later than the hour appointed when the members of the committee rose; and then, on looking forth from his window, Captain Batten was surprised and disappointed not to see his troop of horse drawn up in the park, as he had ordered them to muster there by half-past four. His two companions were down before him, and he found them, with the noble owner of the mansion, in the hall. Lord Walton immediately signified in a grave tone that it would be better to proceed on their search; but the task was sooner begun than ended, for Bishop's Merton House, even in its dismembered state, was not easily examined from one end to the other. Room after room was ransacked, every article of furniture which could be supposed to conceal papers was subjected to the perquisitions of the three commissioners; and it must be recollected that, in those days, people had not multiplied the luxuries and conveniences of life to such a degree as scarcely to be able to turn amidst the crowd of superfluities. Still nothing was discovered; for Lord Walton, though young, was a man of regular habits, and his papers were not all scattered over his dwelling, but gathered regularly into one repository.
At length Colonel Thistleton, after having twice passed through the corridor and gallery, pointed to a door in the former, saying, "We have omitted that room several times, my lord. It may be necessary that we examine there, merely for the sake of making our task complete. You will understand me clearly, my most honourable friend, that I am perfectly satisfied, and indeed was so from the first; but we must be enabled to say that we have not left any part of the mansion unseen."
The young nobleman heard him to the end, and then replied gravely--
"Those are my sister's apartments, sir."
"Nevertheless, my lord," answered Dr. Bastwick.
But Lord Walton cut him short, with a frowning brow and a flushed cheek.
"There is no 'nevertheless,' sir," he said. "Those are my sister's apartments--that is enough. Let me see the man that dares wag a foot towards them."
"Nay, my good lord," cried Thistleton, in a mild and deprecating tone, "we mean no offence. If the lady sleep, we can wait her awaking. We need not go in now."
"Neither now nor ever, sir," answered the young nobleman, sternly. "There are no papers of mine there; of that I pledge my honour. If that satisfies you, well."
"But it does not, sir," cried Batten.
"Then that is well also," answered Lord Walton, turning away with a look of scorn.
Thistleton spoke a word to his two companions, and then followed the young nobleman, exclaiming--
"My lord, my lord!"
"You speak loud, sir," rejoined Charles Walton, walking on. "I will hear you in the hall. Remember there are people who can sleep despite of parliamentary committees."
"This is too insolent," whispered Batten. "If you arrest him not, Master Thistleton, I will."
"Leave him to me," answered the colonel, gravely. "A committee of the house must not be bearded by the best man in the realm. Leave him to me;" and thus saying, he followed the young lord down the stairs.
When they were in the hall, in which were several servants, Lord Walton paused in the midst.
"Now, gentlemen," he said, "what are your further commands?"
"I have but to ask, my lord," demanded Thistleton, "whether you are disposed to resist the lawful authority of parliament?"
"The unlawful exercise of authority it does not possess, you mean," replied the peer. "But, not to cavil at words, sir--if I say I am, what then?"
"Why, then I should be obliged to do that which would be most unpleasant to me," replied Colonel Thistleton.
"I rather think, however, that such must be the result, sir," rejoined Charles Walton, with a cold and indifferent air.
"I mean, sir, that I shall be compelled to put you under some restraint," said Thistleton, with an angry brow, "which must certainly be done if----"
"If I permit you," added Lord Walton, seeing that he paused. "Colonel Thistleton, you are mistaken," he continued, advancing towards him. "I arrest you, sir, for high treason, in the king's name! Give up your sword!" and he laid his hand firmly on his shoulder.
Dr. Bastwick shrank back, and looked towards the door; and while the colour died away in Batten's cheek, Thistleton shook off the young lord's grasp, exclaiming--
"Call up the horse from the window, Batten!" and as he spoke he drew his blade.
"They are not there," answered Batten, with shaking knees.
"No, sir, they are not there," rejoined the master of the mansion; "those that are left of them are now galloping hard to escape Major Randal's keen riders. You may have heard of his name, sir; and it would be well to put up your weapon and submit to what cannot be avoided. Call in a party, Langan!"
"Well, my lord," cried Thistleton, thrusting back his sword into the scabbard, "this is a most shameless breach of----"
"Of what, sir?" demanded Lord Walton. "You came hither upon an unsavoury errand. You have attempted to cozen me from the beginning. Without lawful power or authority you have infringed upon the rights of an Englishman; and I told you that I would stay here to deal with my unexpected guests as befitted their quality and commission. But mark me, Colonel Thistleton: had you been moderate and wise--had you carried on your search with decency--you should have gone from this house without hindrance or molestation. I would have remembered that I had given the parliament no greater intimation of my intentions than they have given me, and treated you with civility and respect; but you have exceeded all propriety: you have pried where no likelihood existed of finding what you sought; you have even expressed the purpose of intruding on the privicy of my sister's chamber. The measure is full, gentlemen, and it is now too late. You are all three prisoners under arrest; and it will be for his majesty to determine the full extent of your deserts. You see it is in vain to resist," he added, pointing to the door, where stood a party of soldiers fully armed. "Take them back to their chambers, Langan; suffer no communication between them; place a sentry at each door, and then return to me."
The members of the committee looked dolefully in each other's faces; but they well saw that what the young nobleman said was but too true, regarding the uselessness of remonstrance or opposition, and with bent heads and dejected countenances they were led away.
"Now, Roger Hartup," said the young lord, as soon as the deputies were gone, "tell me more of this news. You were with the party, it seems."
"Why, yes, my lord," replied a tall, long-boned Wiltshire man, dressed in the full colours of the house of Walton, with broadsword by his side and pistols in his belt; "Langan took me with him without saying a word of where he was going. He told me afterwards that he was obliged to come back for fear your lordship should need him, and that I was to stay with the major and his troop, because I knew all the lanes and byways, and, moreover, loved playing with hand and arm."
"It was well bethought," said his master; "they might need a guide."
"I don't know, my lord," replied the servant; "but the captain of the troop seemed to know all the hedgerows as if he had been born among them. But as soon as Major Randal had heard Langan's message, he gave the order to muster and be ready in an hour. That was about half-past one, my lord, for we had scattered the pebbles about as we went, I warrant, and before half-past two the troop were in their saddles, and moving down at a brisk trot by Lumley Lane, and then at a canter over the common. That brought us to Hill Down, where all the folks were asleep, and then we had three miles of high-road to Rushford. As we were crossing the brook, or rather letting the horses drink, for the major had a care to the beasts' mouths, it being a hot night, we heard a trumpet sound Bishop's Merton way; so then he gave the order to trot, and taking the cart-road we came upon the edge of the meadows, where we could see the road up to the house and yet have shelter of the alders; and there we sat quite still till we saw the Roundhead rascals coming up at a walk, with a sort of animal at their head more like a chandler than a soldier, and beside him, Dry, of Longsoaken, on his grey mare When they got out clear upon the meadow, old Dry pointed along towards the bottom and said something--we could not hear what he said, but it was like as if he told them, 'If you keep down that way, you'll get up to the house without being seen from the windows.' The major spoke never a word. Indeed, he spoke very little all the time, but let them go on till----"
"Was Dry still with them?" asked his master, interrupting his discourse.
"Lord bless your lordship! no," answered the servant; "he left them as soon as he had pointed out the way, and trotted back. But when they were half-across the meadows, about half a gun-shot from the alders, a trumpeter's horse of ours smelt them out, and like an undrilled beast, thinking his master was somewhat long in sounding the charge, he began and neighed as loud as he could. Thereupon they halted, and began to look about, as if a horse neighing was somewhat wonderful; then the major gave the word, and we were out from the alders in a minute, and down upon them. Your lordship has seen a plump of teal rise up from a pond and whirl away all in a sweep. Well, four-fifths of them were round in a minute, and longest legs won the day. About twenty old fellows, with copper noses and steel caps, stood their ground, however, and fired their pistols at us, keeping all together, and showing broadsword. But we took to steel too, and they could not bide it, but broke; and though they fought better than I ever thought to see such crop-eared hounds fight, they were forced to follow their fellows, though not before some seven had tasted green turf, and had as much of it as will serve them till the world's end. Then we wheeled and followed the rest, cutting them off from the town; and, though they rode hard, yet more than nine or ten had cause to wish their spurs were better, till at length, after having chased them back to Rushford, the major sent our captain, Barecolt, with thirty men, to keep them going while he halted, and gave me ten to bring here, saying your lordship might need them."
"Then, did Dry, of Longsoaken, fly with them?" demanded his lord; "or did he run back to the town?"
"I doubt that he knew of the affair at all, my lord," replied the man; "he was far down the lane before we charged. No trumpet was blown for fear of bringing the militia men from Bishop's Merton upon us, and the banks would prevent him from seeing or hearing either."
"Then we will strike a blow at him," said Lord Walton.
The servant rubbed his hands and laughed. "That will rejoice the cockles of many a poor man's heart in Bishop's Merton," he cried. "The old sanctified sinner is hated as much as he is feared. Why he was the cause of poor old Sergeant Neil being dragged away, and killed with bad usage; and I do believe the boys would stone him on the green if they knew it, for he--the old man--used to gather the lads about him on the green and tell them stories of the old wars, when Tyrone was a rebel in Ireland and he fought under Blount, Earl of Devon, till their little eyes almost came out of their heads."
"Dry was the cause, did you say?" asked the young nobleman. "I thought the only cause was found in the words he spoke--that the king, if he were well counselled, would call William of Orange to his aid, would raise his standard at once, march to London, proclaim martial law, and hang the two ringleaders of the parliament before the door of the house."
"Ay, my lord, that was the pretence," replied the servant, "though he never said all that; and they pretended, too, he knew more of what was going on in the north, if he chose to speak. But the real reason was, that the old man, one day last year, when he was stronger than he was afterwards, heard the sneaking villain saying things to poor little Arrah that were not comely, and broke his head with his staff. Dry stomached the affront till the time came for his revenge, and then brought the men over from Devizes to take old Neil away; so I am right glad your lordship is going to punish him on that account."
"'Tis not on that account, Roger Hartup," replied his master, gravely, "for of that I know nothing; but first, the man is a rank traitor, as there is proof enough; and secondly, I am convinced that this fire last night was not kindled without help. There were men seen about the place just after dark. Dry was up here upon a false pretence in the morning; and no one was near the west tower with a light. Bring me the paper and ink, and call the lance prisade of the troop who came with the men."
He wrote a few hasty lines while the servant was gone; and on his return with a stout, broad-set soldier, the young nobleman said: "Now, sir, do you think that Major Randal will object to your executing a warrant, under my hand, for the arrest of a rank traitor in the neighbourhood?"
"I was ordered to receive your commands, my lord, and obey them," replied the soldier. "But the major told me to beg your lordship to let him know early what you intended to do, for that he did not hold it safe to remain here much after noon, for fear of being cut off."
"I will send to him directly," replied Lord Walton; "but you, in the mean time, take this warrant, and go round by the back of the town to a place called Longsoaken, where you will apprehend one Ezekiel Dry. Bring him hither without giving him time to speak with any one in private."
"But if he resists?" asked the man.
"Use force," answered Lord Walton, and then added, "but there will be no resistance. Take all your men with you but those who are guarding the committee-men, and five of my people besides. You, Roger, go with him, with Hugh, and three others. Leave Langan, for I shall want him; and now," he continued, as soon as they had retired, "to examine into the business of this fire."
Thus saying, he rose, took his hat, which lay beside him, and passing through the neighbouring hall, went out upon the terrace. Then circling round the ruins of the tower which had fallen he made his way to the end, where, black and still reeking, stood the part of the building in which the fire had commenced.
No one was near, and Lord Walton stood and gazed at the ruin for several minutes with sad and solemn feelings. It looked to him like the corpse of one untimely slain; all was grey and desolate where lately had been life and cheerfulness. The room in which he used to sit was gone, and all that marked the spot where he had passed many an hour of calm and pleasant contemplation were the charred ends of the rafters, and one stout beam, which, not quite destroyed, hung black and crumbling from side to side, bending down half broken in the midst. Part of the wall had fallen in, and part still stood, rugged and ruined, while in the chamber below some tattered fragments of rich damask furniture and old tapestry hung fluttering in the wind. The smoke still rose up from the pile of rubbish beneath; but on one of the chimneys a bird had already ventured to perch, as if claiming it thenceforth for the inheritance of the wild things of the earth.
After a few minutes' sad contemplation the young lord turned and looked around over the fair scene he was about to leave perhaps for ever, as it lay calm and smiling in the sunshine of the early morning, notwithstanding all the destruction of the preceding night, and the gloomy prospects of the future, with the same peaceful indifference wherewith some have supposed the disembodied spirit to look upon the wild passions and contentions of the world.
As he gazed, however, he saw the figure of a girl seated upon the trunk of a felled beech-tree, which lay close beneath the terrace, and instantly perceiving that it was that of Arrah Neil, he beckoned to her to come up to him. The girl did so without hesitation: and as she climbed the stone steps which led from the park he watched her countenance, to see if the moody and abstracted fit to which she was frequently subject was still upon her, or had passed away.
There was no trace of it left. Her beautiful eyes were clear and bright, and full of intelligence, though her brow was grave and even sad, and her look was raised towards him with a gentle, imploring, deprecating expression, as it she had in some way offended and sought forgiveness.
"Well, my poor Arrah," said the young nobleman, in a kind tone, "I fear you were much frightened last night."
"I was frightened, my lord," she answered, bending down her eyes, "but not much; I knew it was for the best, and hoped that it would soon be extinguished."
"All things are for the best," replied Lord Walton. "God forbid that I should doubt it, Arrah. Yet this has been a severe loss and a great grief to me; for I cannot see the house of my fathers so injured without regret. It is not that many invaluable and rare things have been destroyed, but that mementos of the past are gone with them--things the sight of which recalled the days of boyhood--places stored with a thousand memories, ay, and a thousand associations with times before my own. I can no longer sit in that room, Arrah, and think of those who tenanted it in former years, or of all the many scenes that have there taken place."
"I am very sorry for it indeed," replied Arrah Neil; "but yet----" and she paused, leaving her sentence unconcluded.
"Tell me, Arrah," continued Lord Walton, not heeding her broken reply, "when you had retired to rest last night, which they tell me was about nine, did you hear any noise in the tower, or any one going up the stairs which pass close behind the room where you slept?"
She gazed at him for a moment in silence, with her large bright eyes fixed somewhat sadly upon his countenance, then shook her head and answered, "No one."
The young lord remarked the peculiarity of her look, and added, "I am sure you would answer truly, Arrah, for your poor grandfather, who gave you an education so much above that which persons far higher in rank bestow upon their children, taught you I know always to adhere to truth. Yet hear me, Arrah; I have always tried to be kind to you and yours; I have been fond of you from your childhood. Now I suspect that this fire was not the work of accident, I cannot find that the door at the foot of the tower was closed last night. That enemies were abroad I have too good reason to know; and you, too, warned me yourself that danger was at hand----"
"Oh, but it was not that!--it was not that!" cried Arrah Neil; "the danger I feared for you was not of fire, Charles Walton. Ask me not to tell you, for they made me swear I would not before they would let me go."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the young nobleman, gazing at her thoughtfully. "Well, I will not ask you then."
"Do not! do not!" she cried, "for I could not refuse you anything; and that would be wrong after I have sworn: I would lay down my life for you, indeed I would; but you would not wish me to break my word."
"No, no!" replied Lord Walton; "but to return. I suspect, as I have said, that this destruction has not been committed by accident."
"Not entirely," said Arrah Neil, looking down.
"Not entirely!" exclaimed the peer. "Then you know how it happened--you know who did it--Arrah, speak, who was it? That, at least, I may ask."
The poor girl trembled terribly, but then, in a low sad voice she answered, "It was I."
"You?--you?" cried Lord Walton, gazing at her sternly, while his lip quivered in the attempt to suppress the emotions within him. The girl answered nothing, and after a struggle with himself he waved his hand, saying, "I forgive you, my poor girl, you did it when you were not yourself. Tell no one else, Arrah--the secret is safe with me;" and he turned away, lest one harsh word should mingle with the kinder ones he had spoken.
When he had gone some ten or twelve paces, however, Arrah Neil darted after him, caught his hand, and pressed her beautiful lips upon it.
"Do not abandon me, Charles Walton," she said. "Do not cast me off and hate me. Tell me, would you rather see all those ruins, and lose all you have lost, or be tomorrow a prisoner in the dark Tower of London, perhaps never to ride the green fields again while you live?"
Lord Walton paused with a look of bewildered inquiry; but then suddenly a light rose up in his eyes, and laying his hand upon Arrah Neil's shoulder, he said, "Thank you, Arrah! thank you. 'Tis a wild way of deliverance. Yet thank you, dear child. You meant it well, and it has succeeded. But here are people coming. Go back to Annie; we must not leave you behind us."
The seasons of the year seemed to take their tone from the spirit of the times and the discord that was raging throughout the land. The summer was gloomy and full of storms. Instead of bright sunshine and smiling skies, heavy clouds had been gathering over the heavens from the beginning of the year; and although every now and then a warm and splendid day, such as that which we have described in the beginning of this tale, broke in upon the heavy aspect of the summer, as if to remind man of fairer and happier times, yet week after week passed in tempests, rain, and gloom; and signs and portents, such as might have alarmed nations in more superstitious days, were seen in the sky, and filled the hearts of the more timid with apprehension.
It was upon the morning of one of these sad and frowning days that a troop of horse, consisting of about a hundred and fifty men, well armed and mounted, took its way across a wide and somewhat barren plain about forty miles to the north-east of Bishop's Merton, encumbered with a good deal of baggage, and escorting two or three of the heavy carriages of the times, in which were some six or seven women. The prospect was wide and dreary, extending in a number of grey lines which afforded the eye no pleasing object to rest upon, except here and there a little mound or tumulus bearing on its top a clump of black-looking trees. In the distance was a range of low wood, apparently stunted and withered by the chilling blasts which swept over the plain; and a piece of water of some extent was seen glistening on the right, with the sandy road, along which the cavalcade took its way, winding between the mere and the wood. No hedgerows broke the wide extent, and the ground appeared to be somewhat marshy, for numerous ditches intersected it in every direction, and a large trench ran along on either side of the path, with here and there a small wooden bridge to cross from the sandy highway to the green turf of the plain.
The progress of the party was not very quick, for, as we have said, the carriages were heavy, and their wheels, as well as those of the two or three carts and waggons, sank deep in the loose and shifting soil of the road. By the side of the foremost of the carriages generally rode a cavalier, with whom the reader is already acquainted under the name of Lord Walton, and ever and anon he laid his hand upon the heavy door, and spoke in at the window to his sister or to Arrah Neil, the latter seldom replying except by a monosyllable or a look. Annie Walton, however, conversed with him gaily and lightly; not that her heart was by any means at ease, or her bosom without its apprehensions; but she was well aware that her brother was grieved for all the inconvenience that she suffered, and for the danger to which she was exposed; and, with kindly and generous feeling towards him, she made as little as possible of every annoyance on the march, concealed all the fears that she might experience, and seemed unconscious of the perils of the way. She might not, it is true, deceive her brother as to her own sensations, for he knew her well, and understood her kindness and devotion; but still it made the burden lighter to him to hear no murmur, and to witness no terror.
From time to time, during the march of the two preceding days, some of the rumours which, true and false alike, always run through a country in a state of agitation, had reached Lord Walton's party, speaking of troops marching hither and thither in the neighbourhood. Now it was a detachment from Lord Essex's army; now it was a body of men crossing the country, to reinforce Waller; now it was a body of militia called out by parliamentary commissioners from the district or the county through which they were passing. But Lord Walton paid little attention to these reports, having taken every necessary precaution, by throwing out several small parties in front, at the distance of about two or three miles, to guard against surprise, and secure his onward course towards Coventry.
When any rumour reached him, indeed, which bore more strongly the semblance of truth than the rest, and was corroborated by his own knowledge of the position and designs of the various persons to whom it referred, he would ride forward to the head of the line, and converse for a few minutes with a thin, bony, grave-looking personage in black, who bore few signs of being a military man, except his large boots of untanned leather, his heavy steel-mounted sword, and the pistols at his saddle-bow. Thus, when they had got about half way across the plain, and a horseman galloped up from the right, leaping one or two narrow ditches by which it was intersected, and then, not able to cross the wider trench which separated the road from the turf, riding along by the side of the troop, and making signs to Charles Walton that he had something to communicate, the young nobleman accordingly reined in his horse, and suffering his party to pass on, lingered behind till they were out of ear-shot.
"Well, Master Hurst," he then asked, "what is your news? I was sorry you would not join us; but I am glad to see you here."
"I told Langan I would follow you, my lord," replied the new-comer; "but I had to put my house in order, and sell some hay, for it does not do to go soldiering in these times without money in one's pocket, and I had but short notice. However, my lord, you had better be on your guard; for, as I came over the moor, I found a boy keeping sheep out there between the wood and the water, and, wishing to know whereabouts you were, for I could not see you at that time----"
"You did not mention my name, I hope," said Lord Walton.
"Oh, no, my lord," answered the horseman; "I took care not to do that: I only asked if he had seen a body of soldiers, without saying horse or foot. So the boy said, 'Oh, yes; that there were five hundred and fifty lying behind the wood,' for he had counted them, seemingly--like a flock of sheep. Then I asked him how many horse there were; to which he replied by saying, 'Two,' and that all the rest had guns and bandoliers and steel caps, except a few, who had long pikes in their hands."
"This seems serious," replied Lord Walton; "we must look to this intelligence."
"There is more serious work behind, my lord," replied Hurst; "for this news gave me the key to what I saw myself in the morning. These musketeers are not alone. They have got cavalry for their support, my lord, or I am much mistaken: not two hours ago I saw the tail of a troop going into the little village, the spire of which you can just see rising up there. I should have taken them for your men but that they were coming the contrary road; so I avoided the village for fear of worse."
"Well, Hurst, ride on to the next bridge," said Lord Walton, "and then join me on the road with Major Randal, whom I must consult on our proceedings."
Thus saying, he spurred on his horse, and galloped forward to the head of the line, where, pulling up by the side of our spare friend in black, he communicated to him all that he had just heard.
"Ah!" said Randal, in his usual dry and deliberate tone, "ah! Five hundred and fifty musketeers--rather better, than three to one. That would not matter if the ground were fair; but these ditches, these ditches! they are awkward things in the way of cavalry; if our horses could leap them as easily as their shot, the matter would soon be settled. Does any one know what the ground is like there? They will gall us sadly if we have to expose our flank to the wood."
"I fear so, indeed," replied Lord Walton; "but perhaps, if I were to pass the next bridge, take a circuit round and dislodge them, while you pursue your way along the road, we might contrive to get into better fighting ground."
"Let us see what it is like first," said Randal: "here comes your newsmonger, my lord; we shall learn more from him. Now, master yeoman, how does the land lie about the wood? is there good room for a charge, or is it cut up like this?"
"Between the wood and the road," answered Hurst, "it is just like a gridiron, with ditches enough to drain the sea."
"And behind the wood, do you know anything of that?" continued Randal.
"It is good enough there," said the horseman, divining the object of his question, "but you cannot get at it for the river.
"They have some good soldiers amongst them," said Randal. "Such ground was not chosen by one of the old bottle-nosed serving-men of London."
"They must have good intelligence, too," said Lord Walton, "to fix so exactly on a point where they can best attack us. If it were not for my sister and the women, we might take their fire in passing, and get into the good ground beyond; but the carriages and baggage would prove a sad encumbrance."
"Ah, women, women!" cried Randal, "they are the causes of all the mischief in the world. However, we must dispose of them, and must take our resolution quickly; there is no going back now, my lord, and we must make our way forward at whatever risk. Luckily, you have brought all the spare horses and the women's saddles; they must quit the carriages and mount. As for the baggage, it must take its chance and belong to the winners."
"But I cannot expose my sister," exclaimed Lord Walton, "to such an affair as this--she can go back to the village."
"No, no," said Randal, quickly; "there is no need of that; this good yeoman can guide her round with the rest of the women, while we make our way forward, and do the best that we can with these gentry in front. They will not chase her if we keep on our way; but if we quit the road, they will of course draw to their left and cut us off between the causeway and the water. Now, my lord, be quick; get them out and away: I will send a dozen of my men to escort them, with Barecolt at their head. 'Tis the best task for him; for, though he does not want courage, with women he will have room to talk, and that is his chief occupation. He may lie, too, there, as much as he likes, and nobody will find him out. Now, master yeoman, you be guide--lead these ladies over the moor, round by the back of that great pond, and into the open ground above it. When you get to that mound with the trees on it, you may halt a bit, and watch what we are about on the road. If you see that we get the worst, put to the spur, and gallop on till you rejoin the Coventry road, then on as fast as may be to the king, who will be in Coventry by noon to-morrow. If you see we make good our ground, come back and join us."
"But there are horse in that village, sir," answered Hurst.
"That can't be helped," replied Randal; "we have no other chance. Besides, they may be our people as well as the enemy's.--Stay; it may be as well to see: I will send on Barecolt, while you halt on the hill. He can play either part--swear and swagger like the most licentious Cavalier, or cant and pule like the most starched Puritan."
While this conversation had been taking place, the party had not ceased to advance slowly along the road; but the order to halt was now given, and preparations were made for carrying into execution the plan decided upon. The carriages were stopped, Miss Walton and her attendants were placed hastily upon the spare horses which had been brought from Bishop's Merton, and the small body under Captain Barecolt were drawn out, and commanded to fall into the rear. Annie Walton did all that she was told to do without a word; but she looked in her brother's face, as he placed her on horseback, and, bending down her beautiful head, kissed his cheek, while a silent, irrepressible tear rose in her eye.
"Do not fear, Annie--do not, fear," said Charles Walton; "we will soon put these fellows to the rout."
But it is vain, in moments of danger and difficulty, to commend courage to those who, by fate or situation, are doomed to inactivity; for they must still feel for those that they love, if not for themselves; and though Miss Walton considered not for one moment the personal peril which she encountered, her heart beat with apprehensions for her brother, which no words could quiet or remove. Lord Walton then turned to Arrah Neil, who was already mounted, and leaning his hand on the horse's neck, he asked--"Can you manage the horse, my poor Arrah? had you not better ride behind a trooper?"
"Oh, no," she said; "no, I can ride quite well--I remember now;" and, indeed, the manner in which she held her rein, the ease and grace with which she sat the horse, and the command which she had over it, though a powerful and spirited animal, clearly showed that at some time she must have been well accustomed to such exercise.
Lord Walton looked down with a thoughtful expression of countenance, as if there were something that puzzled him. But just at that moment Major Randal rode up, exclaiming.--"We must lose no more time, my lord; if we halt any longer here, they may see what we are about, and act accordingly. I shall order the troop to advance, for women are always slow, and they must come after us as they can, till they reach the little bridge up yonder. Let the carts and carriages come first, and the women can bring up the rear. Now, mark ye, Barecolt, follow this good yeoman, with the ladies under your charge, till you reach that little mound with the trees on the right. You can deliver your stomach by the way of any of the wild imaginations that may fret you; but when you get to the mound you must give up talking, and, riding on to the village alone, make use of your wits, if you have any left, to ascertain whether there be a troop of horse in it, and of what side."
"Alone?" said Barecolt.
"To be sure," answered Randal, with a laugh; "the man who preached in the morning at Rochelle, and defeated the Papists in the evening, who defended the pass in the Cevennes single-handed against a whole army, may well go on alone to reconnoitre a handful of cavalry. Besides, it will make you careful, Master Barecolt, when you know that your own life depends on your own tongue."
"It has often done that," answered Barecolt. "I remember, when I was in Spain, being attacked by some twenty banditti, and putting my back against a rock----"
"March!" cried Randal, interrupting him; "tell that to the girls. It will do to pass the time as well as any other lie;" and riding on, he led the way, while Lord Walton continued by his sister's side, till, reaching the little bridge, the good farmer, Hurst, turned off from the road into the meadows, followed by the young lady, her servants, and the escort.
With anxious eyes Annie Walton and Arrah Neil watched the advance of the larger party of horse towards the wood before them, although neither of them had heard the exact cause of alarm, or was aware of where the danger was to be apprehended, or what was its nature. All they knew was, that peril lay upon the onward road; and, notwithstanding all the assiduities of Captain Barecolt, who, riding by their side wherever the space admitted it, endeavoured to entertain them with some of the monstrous fictions in which his imagination was accustomed to indulge, they listened not to his tales, they scarcely even heard his words, but, their eyes turned constantly to the road they had just quitted, pursued a path, forming with it an acute angle, which led round the back of a large piece of water that lay gleaming before them.
Once or twice they had to dismount, and lead their horses over the little wooden bridges which crossed the ditches intersecting the plain; and more than once, where these were so insecure as to give way under the horses' feet, they were forced to quit their direct line, and take a circuit. Nevertheless, as they cantered quickly over the turf between, they had reached the little tree-covered knoll which had been pointed out as their halting-place, before the troop which was pursuing the high-road had arrived at the spot where the low wood we have mentioned skirted the way.
That wood did not, indeed, approach close to the road, but lay at the distance of from a hundred to a hundred and fifty yards on the left, extending parallel with it for nearly a quarter of a mile, and having a green meadow, and the continuation of the broad trench we have mentioned between. A river of some width, flowing from the right, crossed the highway under a bridge of two arches, at a short distance from the wood; and at the moment that Miss Walton and her companions reached the mound, the head of her brother's troop was about three hundred yards from this bridge.
Knowing well that Major Randal was not a man to be trifled with, Captain Barecolt, as soon as they had arrived at the appointed place, took a flowery and ceremonious leave of Miss Walton, and rode on towards the village of which they had now a better view than before. The young lady's eyes, however, were still fixed upon her brother's troop, as she remained half-way up the little mound, with her horse turned towards the road and her maids behind, Arrah Neil upon her left hand, and the small party of troopers a little in advance.
They had continued this for some four or five minutes in breathless expectation of what was to come next, when they perceived the troop brought to a sudden halt, and an apparent consultation take place at the head of the little column. At that moment Annie Walton heard one of the troopers just before her say aloud--"They have barricaded the bridge, that's clear enough."
"Good God!" she exclaimed; "what will they do?"
But the man, although he heard her words, only turned his head over his shoulder to give her a look, without making any reply.
"There is a little path, lady," said one of the maids, who, placed higher up the hill, saw more distinctly the ground beneath--"there is a little path down from the side of the bridge into the meadows below: if they were to take that they could get out of the way of the wood, and I should think could cross the river, for it spreads out there so wide it must be shallow."
"They do not see it," said Annie Walton; "they do not see it for the bank."
Almost as she spoke a considerable body of foot drew out from the wood, and a party of about a hundred men running forward, drew up in line close to the bridge, and opened a fire of musketry upon the small troop of cavalry which occupied the road. Several horses at the head of the line were seen to plunge violently, and one fell with its rider. The next instant the whole were in motion, a charge was made upon the bridge, and for a few moments all was confusion and disarray, in which they could only see that the Cavaliers had recourse to their pistols, and were endeavouring apparently to force the barricade.
"Oh! the path, the path!" cried Annie Walton. "If any man will ride and tell them of the path, and that they can ford the river below, I will give him a hundred crowns."
One of the troopers was instantly dashing forward, but the man who had been left in command called him back, saying that they had been ordered to remain there, and must obey. By this time the charge had been repulsed, and the Cavaliers were retreating under a heavy fire in some disarray. They formed again with great rapidity, however, behind the waggons and carriages.
Miss Walton remonstrated against the recal of her messenger; but without waiting to hear the reply, Arrah Neil exclaimed--"I will go, dear lady; I will go! and shaking her rein, she put the horse to its speed, and darted forward before any one could stop her.
"I will go, too!" cried Annie Walton. "Why should she risk her life, and a sister fear?" and thus saying, she struck her horse with a whip and followed. In a moment, without uttering a word, the stout yeoman, Hurst, was by the lady's side; but Arrah Neil outsped them both, and and rode direct for the path she had observed. Without fear, without pause, the devoted girl rode on, although as soon as ever she was perceived from the bridge the shots began to drop around her, for her object was instantly divined, and no consideration for her sex restrained the soldiery.
"This way, lady, this way!" cried Hurst, turning to the left; "we can speak to them over the dike, and we shall be farther from the fire."
They were now within a few hundred yards of Lord Walton's party, and he was seen at the head of the troop gesticulating vehemently to his sister to keep back.
"Ride away, my dear! ride away!" cried Hurst, "I will go on!" but at that moment a shot struck his charger, and horse and rider went down together. Miss Walton, however, rode forward, seeing the good yeoman struggling up; and Arrah Neil, too, pursued her way, reached the bridge, dashed up the path, entered the road, and, in the midst of all the fire, galloped on till, within ten yards of the carriages, a ball struck the animal in the haunches, and he reared violently with the pain. She still kept her seat, however, till Lord Walton, spurring forward, seized the bridle and caught her in his arms, just as the horse fell, and, struggling in the agonies of death, rolled over into the dike.
"Good God! what is it?" exclaimed Charles Walton, bearing her back behind the waggons. "Annie, Annie, ride away!" he shouted to his sister; "if you love me, ride away!"
"There is a path down by the bridge; the river is fordable below!" exclaimed Arrah Neil; "there are no dykes beyond the stream. All is clear on that side."
"Look, look, Charles!" cried Miss Walton, pointing with her hand, "there is a body of cavalry drawing out from the village, and some one riding at full speed towards our people on the hill."
"Friends, on my life!" cried Major Randal. "Now, fair aid-de-camp, gallop round there to the right, and keep out of fire. Tell your people to charge the Roundheads in the front, while those from the village take them on the flank, and we do the best we can on the right. What was that you said, pretty maid?" he continued, addressing Arrah Neil; "a path down by the bridge--the stream fordable?"
"Ride-away, Annie! ride away!" cried Lord Walton; "more to the right! more to the right!"
"We must push forward the carriages and carts," said Major Randal; "they will give us some shelter. Where this girl came up, there can we go down."
"I saw the path quite clear," said one of the men.
But without more words the new plan proposed was immediately followed; the carts, drawn up two abreast, were pushed forward towards the bridge by the main strength of the dismounted troopers, for the horses had become unmanageable, and the traces had been cut; and under shelter of these and of the carriages, which formed a line on the left, the troop advanced in good order to the bridge, notwithstanding all the efforts of the musketeers.
In the mean while, Annie Walton took her way back towards the hill, beckoning to the yeoman, Hurst, who had by this time freed himself from his horse; but he, with that sort of passive bravery which is so characteristic of the English peasant, continued deliberately to unbuckle the girths of his saddle (about which, it appeared afterwards, all his stock was stowed away in various bags and contrivances), and made not the slightest effort to get out of musket-shot till he got the whole upon his back, after which he trudged away towards the hill, only injured by one ball which grazed his arm.
Losing no time by the way, Miss Walton soon rejoined the party of troopers at the knoll, and was giving them the order of Major Randal, when Barecolt himself came up at full speed, exclaiming--
"Great news! great news! There is the Earl of Beverley with two hundred horse, ready to charge the Roundheads in the flank."
"We have Major Randal's orders to charge them in front," said the sergeant.
"Stay, stay!" cried Barecolt; "wait a minute, wait a minute and then the man who does not kill his five of the enemy should never sit down with a gentleman to dinner again. Steady, my men, steady; look to your pistols; have ready your spurs. As soon as the earl has crossed the road I give the word."
"See, see!" cried Annie Walton, "they have got down into the meadow--they are fording the stream--see what a fire the enemy are keeping up upon them. Oh! charge, charge, for God's sake, and help them!"
"Madam, I always obey a lady," said Barecolt with a low bow, at the same time raising the blade of his sword to his lips and kissing it. "She is the best commanding officer in the world. Now!--upon them! charge and at them!" and with these words he led his little troop forward with an air of gallantry and determination which went far to justify the gasconades in which he indulged.
The ford, though somewhat deep, was smooth and easy, but still it exposed the troop of Cavaliers to a terrible fire of musketry from the bridge; and Annie Walton, left alone with her women on the hill, saw with a sinking heart flash after flash run along the road, whilst the thick white smoke was wafted by the wind over her brother's party, rendering the figures indistinct, and concealing their movements in some degree from her eyes. A moment after, however, she saw two or three horsemen break out of the clouds and gallop on for several hundred yards into the meadows, then followed a greater number, and she could hear shouts and calls, in the midst of which she thought she distinguished her brother's voice; and then she saw the troopers halt and form again in line, while Barecolt, with his little party, bore steadily on at a quick pace somewhat to the right; and a much larger body of cavalry, which seemed to have taken a circuit from the village behind some hedgerows that skirted the edge of the plain appeared advancing rapidly on the left of the musketeers, and occupying the whole space between the wood and the high-road.
There was now a momentary pause, the firing ceased, the troop of Lord Walton and Major Randal remained still, the smoke cleared in some degree away, and Annie asked herself, "What next?"
The moment, however, that Barecolt came on a line with the rest, the shrill blast of a trumpet was heard from the two larger bodies of horse; all were again in movement; and, galloping forward towards the point occupied by the musketeers, the three parties of royalists charged headlong down upon them, while once more the bright flash of the fire-arms ran along the line of the road, and the cloud of smoke again rolled over the combatants.
It was no longer to be repulsed that the Cavaliers now charged. For full ten minutes, the eyes of the watchers on the hill could perceive nothing but one struggling and confused mass in the midst of the dim white cloud, with the frequent flashes of the guns, and every now and then a party of two or three becoming more apparent, and then plunging again into the midst of themêlée. At the same time the frequent reports of the musketry and the long-continued blasts of the trumpet, mingled with shouts and cries, were borne by the wind to the ear, showing that the fight was continued with desperate determination on each side; and Annie Walton could restrain her anxiety no longer, but moved slowly forward towards the scene of combat.
Before she had advanced many yards, a horse without a rider rushed across the road and galloped over the meadows towards her--paused, turned round, and with elevated head and expanded nostrils gazed towards the place from which he came--then with a wild neigh broke away again, and rushed across the plain. In another instant, three or four men on foot, with muskets in their hands, were seen running at full speed, and Miss Walton checked her horse, fearing that they might come near her; but they made direct for one of the ditches we have mentioned, and jumping in, seemed to couch down for concealment.
"They have won the day," cried Annie Walton, and turning to her women, who had followed somewhat slowly, she repeated, "The Cavaliers have won the day. God grant it may be without great loss!" and at the thought of what might be her brother's fate in that fierce fight, her heart sank with that dread which we all feel when the veil which always hangs more or less over the future, is brought nearer to our eyes, so as to render our contemplation even of the present dim and indistinct.
A larger party of foot, consisting of perhaps twenty or thirty men, was then seen hurrying along the road; but close upon them came a body of cavalry, and in a moment they were dispersed and flying over the plain. Almost at the same time, the heavy mass of horse and infantry which had so long remained mingled together near the bridge, seemed to explode like a shell, parties of foot and horsemen scattering here and there in every direction; and the terrible scene of a rout and pursuit now took place--the musketeers in general casting down their arms and dying, while the Cavaliers followed them here and there over the plain, and put them to the sword on the least show of resistance.
In the midst of all this disarray and confusion, a group of some twenty or thirty horsemen were seen gathered round a small flag upon the highest part of the road near the bridge; and after a brief pause, during which they remained perfectly still and motionless, the loud and peculiar trumpet-call--known in those days as the recal to the standard--came shrill but musical upon the air; and the next instant four or five horsemen separated themselves from the party, and rode up at an easy canter towards the wooded knoll.
Annie Walton gazed eagerly, and recognising her brother's form, after one moment of brief anxiety rode on to meet him with her heart at ease. Lord Walton pushed forward his horse before the rest, and wheeling it by her side, pressed her hand in his, murmuring, "My dearest Annie! my sweet sister! you have been sadly terrified, I fear, but yet you have shown yourself a soldier's child."
"Oh, Charles, Charles! you are wounded!" cried Annie, looking in his face, which was bleeding, and at a gory scarf which was round his left arm.
"Nothing, nothing!" replied her brother. "Men will have scratches when they fight with wild beasts, Annie; and these Roundheads have shown themselves as fierce and intractable as wolves or lions. They fought gallantly, however, it must be owned, and have made us pay dearly for our success."
"I fear so, indeed, Charles," cried Miss Walton. "I am sure it must be so. But poor Arrah Neil--is she safe?"
"Oh yes, thank God!" replied Lord Walton. "I sent just now to the coach in which I had placed her, to make sure she was uninjured. I must not blame her rashness, my Annie, nor yours either, for it has been the means of saving us; but it was a terrible risk, my dear girl, and your escape is a miracle."
"And good Major Randal?" asked Annie, willing to change the subject.
"He is safe too," replied Lord Walton, "and without a scratch, though never man exposed himself more. But here comes another friend whom you will be glad to see, and to whom we owe all our success."
"Oh, Sir Francis Clare!" exclaimed Miss Walton, a glow of pleasure rising in her cheek; "I am most happy to see you."
"Nay, not Sir Francis Clare either," cried her brother, "but my oldest and truest friend, the Earl of Beverley."
"Nay," said Annie, with a smile, "it was not fair of you, my lord, to give me a false name the other day. I half intend to punish you by treating you as a stranger still. Had you told me it was Lord Beverley, I should not have said that I never heard my brother mention you, for I can assure you, in former days, his letters were full of no one else. However, there is my hand--I forgive you, trusting with all a woman's foolish confidence that you had some good reason for cheating me."
"I will never cheat you more, dear lady," replied Lord Beverley, taking her hand and raising it to his lips; "but in such times as these it is sometimes needful to seem not what we are, and thesenoms-de-guerrewhen once assumed should be kept up to every one. I had to ride near two hundred miles across a disturbed country where the name of Francis Clare might pass unquestioned, when that of Beverley might have soon found me a lodging in the Tower. Walton said it was a rash act of mine to risk such an expedition at all; but I have just heard from him that I am not the only rash person where there is a good cause and a great object to be gained."
"Nay, will you scold me too?" rejoined Miss Walton, laughing; "if so, I will hold no further conversation with you. Yet, my good lord, to say truth, I take less blame to myself for what I did than for not doing it at once. To see the poor girl, Arrah Neil, willing to risk her life to serve my brother, shamed me, to think that she should encounter danger alone."
"But you might have sent one of the men, dear Annie," said Lord Walton: "it was a soldier's, not a lady's task to carry such intelligence."
"But they would not go," replied Annie Walton; and as they rode back towards the high-road, she explained to her brother and his friend the circumstances under which she had acted.
For a minute or two the conversation was as gay and cheerful as a great success just obtained, a great deliverance just achieved, could render it. Lord Beverley explained to his fair companion, that having learned that morning on entering the neighbouring village with a body of two hundred horse, which he had raised for the service of the king, that a regiment of parliamentary musketeers were lying concealed at the back of the wood, and supposing that their ambush was directed against himself, he had determined to remain in the place, and defend it, should need be, against them; but that when he found the passage of Lord Walton's troop was opposed, and his friend in danger, he had instantly called his men to the saddle, and advanced to support him. Lord Walton, too, related many of those actions which in such scenes of strife are always crowded into the space of a few minutes; and much praise did he bestow upon the gallant determination of Major Randal and his troop, and also upon the steadiness and courage displayed by his own tenantry and adherents. Captain Barecolt himself had his full share of commendation.
"I had thought," said Charles Walton, "from his ridiculous bravadoes during the last two days, that the man must be at least a coward, although Randal is not one to suffer such an animal near him; but it proved quite the contrary; for I saw his long body constantly in the thick of themêlée, and his heavy sword cutting right and left at the steel caps of the musketeers, over the very muzzles of their guns."
As they approached nearer to the scene of conflict, however, the sights which Miss Walton witnessed--the dead, the dying, the wounded, the road stained with deep pools of blood, and the sounds that met her ear--the groan of anguish, the sad complaint, the cry for water and for help--blotted out all memory of their success; and with a shuddering frame and a sad heart she followed her brother to the spot where Major Randal was sitting by his cornet, on the parapet of the bridge, receiving accounts from the different troopers as they came in, of the prisoners taken from the enemy, and the killed and wounded on their own part, while ever and anon a mounted trumpeter by his side blew a loud, long blast, to call the parties from the pursuit.
"Ah, Miss Walton!" cried the old officer, starting up and addressing her in his usual bluff tone; "I am glad to see you safe and well. I will never say that women are of no use any more; for, by my faith, you and that little girl got us out of a pretty predicament. I was blind enough or stupid enough, and so were all the rest, not to mark the little path, for we passed it in charging up to the bridge; but even if we had seen it, we should not have known that the stream was fordable below. However, get you into the carriage again, and shut your eyes or draw the curtains, for I see you look white and sickish, and these sights are not fit for women. The men will soon have pulled down that barricade, and then you can go on, while we get up the wounded and follow. We must do ten miles more to-night."
"I should prefer to ride," replied Miss Walton; "you had better put the wounded people in the carriages."
"True, true; well bethought," answered the old soldier. "You are a good girl after all."
Lord Walton smiled at this somewhat ambiguous compliment to his sister; but, as no time was to be lost, he left her under the care of Lord Beverly, and proceeded to give orders, and make those arrangements which the circumstances required. The barricade, which had been constructed hastily of felled trees, stone, and turf, was speedily removed, and the foremost of the carriages was being brought forward to receive some of the men severely wounded, who were lying about within the very narrow circle to which the strife had been confined, when Lord Walton's servant, Langan, rode up, exclaiming--"My lord! my lord! the prisoners have made their escape."