CHARLES HIDING IN THE SECRET CLOSET AT BOSCOBEL HOUSE.
CHARLES HIDING IN THE SECRET CLOSET AT BOSCOBEL HOUSE.
And so she would have done, had she not been prevented. How great was her terror, on entering the bedchamber, to see a trooper standing there, amid all these evidences of the king's hasty retreat.
The trooper she beheld was Madmannah. He had got into the house through an open window, and had made his way privily up-stairs. Placing his pike at her breast, he ordered her instantly to quit the room, and she did not dare to disobey.
Casting an anxious glance at the accusing sword, but still hoping the trap-door might not be discovered, Joan went down to the hall, where another scene of terror awaited her.
Colonel James was interrogating her husband, who was standing before the stern Republican leader with a trooper on either side of him. Ezra, who was stationed at the foot of the staircase, allowed her to enter the hall, but bade her hold her tongue. Colonel James was seated near the table. His aspect was unusually severe, but William Penderel did not quail before his menacing looks. The forester's gigantic figure dwarfed the troopers who stood on either side of him.
"I know thou art a stubborn knave," said Colonel James; "but I will wrest the truth from thee. I am certain that Charles Stuart is concealed within this house, and I mean not to depart without him. But I will not waste time in the search. Thy life is already forfeited for thy treasonable conduct, and I should be justified in putting thee to death; but I will spare thee, if, without more ado, the malignant prince be delivered up to me. Nay, more, I will reward thee. Dost hear me, sirrah?" he continued, finding that his words produced no visible impression upon the prisoner. "I am not one to be trifled with, as thou wilt find."
As he spoke, he arose, strode towards the prisoner, and drawing a pistol from his belt, placed it at Penderel's head.
"Speak the truth, or thou art a dead man," he said. "Where is the prince?"
This was too much for Joan. She could not stand by and see her husband shot. Rushing forward, she besought the fierce Republican leader to spare him.
"A word from thee will save his life," said Colonel James, lowering the pistol and turning towards her.
"Woman, I forbid you to speak," said William Penderel, sternly.
"Shoot me if you will," cried Joan to the Republican leader, "I have nothing to declare. Charles Stuart is not here."
"That is false," exclaimed Colonel James. "Deliver him to me, or ye shall both die. Your treasonable practices are known to me. I am aware that the fugitive prince and one of his attendants were concealed in an oak hard by this house. Where are they? They cannot have escaped."
"Wherefore not?" rejoined William Penderel. "If, as you assert, they were hidden in an oak, they could not be here. Search the house, and if you find him you seek, then put us to death."
Finding he could not intimidate the resolute forester, Colonel James left him in charge of a couple of troopers, with orders to shoot him if he attempted to escape, and commanded Joan to conduct him over the house.
"If Charles Stuart be found hidden within the house, thou and thy husband shall assuredly die," he said. "But if it be as thou affirmest, I will spare you both."
"Where will you begin the search?" inquired Joan.
"I will leave no room unvisited," replied Colonel James. "But I will first examine the bedchambers."
Joan's heart quaked as the stern officer marched up-stairs and proceeded to the principal bedroom. Colonel James was astonished by finding Madmannah standing in the midst of the room, leaning on his pike, with the door of the secret closet wide open.
"Hast thou found the malignant prince?" he exclaimed.
"Yea, verily, colonel, I have discovered his hiding-place, as you perceive," replied Madmannah. "There is the stool on which he somewhile sat—there is the cup from which he drank—above all, there is his sword. I have waited for you to make further search, that you may have the credit of the capture. But I claim the reward."
"Thou shalt have it," replied Colonel James, stepping into the closet.
He saw at a glance that it was empty, but feeling sure there must be some secret recess, he struck the panels on either side with the pommel of his sword, but discovering nothing, he at last turned to Joan, who was standing by watching his proceedings with ill-disguised anxiety, and remarked:
"There must be a hiding-place here. Disclose it at once, or I will cause my men to break down the panels."
Joan obeyed, drew back the sliding door, and Colonel James instantly sprang through the aperture into the inner room.
Finding no one within it, he vented his disappointment in an angry exclamation.
"Where is the malignant prince, woman?" he demanded, fiercely.
"Gone," she replied. "That is all I will tell you."
"Thou art deceiving me, woman," he exclaimed.
But finding threats useless, he proceeded to make a very careful investigation of the little room in which they stood. Had he searched the outer closet with equal strictness he must infallibly have discovered the trap-door.
Dreadfully frightened, Joan had great difficulty in supporting herself, and it was an inexpressible relief to her when Colonel James strode back into the bedchamber.
"'Tis plain the malignant prince is not here, Madmannah," he said to the trooper, who seemed greatly disappointed by the result of the search.
"I could have sworn I heard him," said Madmannah. "But there are other hiding-places in the house. Answer truthfully, on your life, woman," he added to Joan.
"I will conceal nothing," she replied, anxious to get them away. "There is a priest's hole in the garret."
"A priest's hole!" exclaimed Colonel James. "Show it to me."
Joan took them to the garret, raised the trap-door, and displayed the cavity.
After peering into the hole, Colonel James ordered Madmannah, who had followed him, to descend and examine it. Not without difficulty did the trooper, who was rather stout, obey his leader's injunction. But once in the hole, he found it impossible to get out, and had to take off his breast-plate before he could be extricated from his unpleasant position. He had found nothing, for the pallet on which Careless slept had been removed.
Enraged at his ill-success, Colonel James then went down-stairs, and searched the parlour, the windows of which have been described as looking into the garden. His investigations were rewarded by the discovery of the little altar in the oratory, and offended by the sight of it, he caused it to be destroyed.
After this, he again tried the effect of menaces upon William Penderel, but found the stout forester as stubborn as ever. Nothing could be extorted from him.
At last, after a long and fruitless search, the baffled Republican leader took his departure, and the faithful pair, who had passed an hour of the greatest anxiety, congratulated each other on their escape.
Not till she was quite satisfied that the troopers were gone didJoan venture to release the king from his confinement. He had heard the footsteps of Colonel James in the closet overhead, and thought that the trap-door must be discovered. Had he not feared that a guard must be stationed outside, he would have attempted to escape into the forest.
Now that the danger was passed he laughed at it. But though he made light of his own fears, he did not underrate the risk incurred on his account by stout-hearted William Penderel and his devoted wife.
Later on, Trusty Dick made his appearance. It appeared that the faithful fellow had resolved, if the king had been captured by Colonel James, to rescue him or perish in the attempt; and with this view he had hastily assembled his brothers—John, Humphrey, and George, together with his brother-in-law, Francis Yates.
Armed with pikes and bills, they had laid in wait for the troopers, near the house, but as the men came forth without their prey, and had evidently failed in their design, the devoted little band separated, and each man hurried back to his abode—George to White Ladies, John to his little farm, Humphrey to the mill, and Francis Yates to his cottage—rejoicing that their services had not been required.
"But before parting," said Dick, in conclusion, "we all agreed to meet here to-night to escort your majesty to Moseley Old Hall."
From this simple statement, Charles comprehended how well he was guarded over by these brave and loyal brothers.
HOW THE KING RODE THE MILLER'S HORSE; AND HOW HE WAS ESCORTED DURING HIS RIDE.
Asit was not likely, after the strict search that had just taken place, that another visit would be paid to Boscobel by the troopers, Charles felt quite easy, and passed the remainder of the day in tranquil meditation.
While sitting by himself in the oak parlour, he revolved his plans for the future, should he be happily restored to his kingdom, and formed many noble resolutions which would have greatly elevated his character as a sovereign if they had been carried out.
At this period of his career Charles was unspoiled, and if his higher qualities had been called into play, and his unquestionablemilitary genius fully developed, he might have proved himself worthy of his grandsire, on his mother's side, the great Henry the Fourth of France.
Above all, his heart was uncorrupted and his kindly disposition had not hardened into selfishness. His natural gaiety never deserted him, and his constitutional indifference to danger sustained him under the most trying circumstances. Possible perils were never allowed to weigh upon his mind, and in thus acting he showed true philosophy. His unconcern astonished all who came near him, and Joan and her husband could not sufficiently admire his liveliness of manner. Whether he was quite so free from anxiety as he appeared may be questioned, but at any rate he wore a very pleasant mask.
To such a point did he carry his rashness, that at the risk of being seen by an enemy on the watch, he strolled forth into the garden, and sat for some time in the little arbour.
As soon as it grew dusk, and they could steal through the forest unperceived, the king's promised escort began to appear; each stout fellow being armed with pike or bill, as he had been in the morning, when the brave little band had resolved to effect Charles's rescue.
First to arrive was James Yates, who had married a sister of the Penderels. The king had seen him before, as he had served under Charles Giffard, at Worcester, and had guided the royal fugitive to White Ladies. James Yates was stoutly made, and had a soldier-like bearing, but he was not so largely proportioned as his brothers-in-law. However, he was as loyal as they were, and just as ready to shed his blood in the good cause. We grieve to say that he suffered for his loyalty, being executed at a subsequent date at Chester. Charles was very glad to see him, and possibly the gracious words then addressed to him by the king may have cheered the brave fellow's latest moments.
Ere long the others arrived, and now that they were all assembled, armed and accoutred in the best way they could, Charles thought he had never seen a finer set of men.
"With such a body-guard I shall not fear the enemy," he said.
"Your majesty shall not be taken, while we can defend you," they cried with one voice.
"I hope you have brought your horse for me, Humphrey?" said the king.
"Ay, sire," replied the sturdy miller. "Robin is already in the barn."
"'Tis well!" cried Charles. "Now sit down to supper, and mind me not."
The king had already supped, and supped very heartily, for his misfortunes had not taken away his appetite, but his majesty ate little in comparison with those who followed him.
It was wonderful to see how quickly the heaped up trenchers were cleared, and how soon the tall tankard of ale was emptied. But the trenchers were filled again, and so was the tall tankard, though only to be emptied once more. Luckily, there was enough and to spare, for Joan knew the powers of her guests, and had provided accordingly.
When the plain but plentiful repast was ended, and the horn cups were filled for the last time, the stalwart brethren arose, and drank the king's health and confusion to his enemies; after which, William Penderel asked pardon for the freedom they had taken, and declared the impulse was uncontrollable, adding that whenever it pleased his majesty to set forth they were ready to attend him.
Charles sighed, for he was unwilling to depart.
However, there was no help. So he took leave of Dame Joan, expressing his deep sense of the great services she and her husband had rendered him, and promising to reward them adequately, if he should ever be able to do so.
"I have every belief that a time will come, when I shall be able to prove my gratitude to you, my good dame, and to your worthy husband—indeed, to all my good friends and servants whom I see around me, and then be sure that I will not forget you, one and all. Trust to my royal word."
"We want no reward, my liege," said William Penderel. "What we have done has been from pure devotion to your majesty, and from no sordid motive."
"That is quite true," cried the others, "and we entreat your majesty to believe what William says."
"I firmly believe it," said the king. "Loyal and disinterested you must be, or you would never serve a fugitive king, who can reward you only with promises. But I shall not forget your services—yours, especially, my good dame. And now adieu," he added, taking Joan's hand, and preventing her from making the profound obeisance she meditated. "We shall meet again in happier days."
So saying, he quitted the house by the back door, followed by William Penderel and his sturdy brothers and brother-in-law.
The miller's horse—a short, well set, strong animal, which in these days would be described as a stout cob—was brought out of the barn by his master, who held the bridle while the king mounted.
Meantime, Joan had come forth with a lantern, and its light showed a curious scene—all the stalwart brothers, armed with their bills and pikes, grouped around the king, who was now in the saddle—while William Penderel was arranging the order of march.
With the king's approval, it was settled that Humphrey andJohn should form the advanced guard, while the rear should be brought up by George Penderel and Francis Yates. William and Trusty Dick were to march on either side of his majesty, who was well pleased to have their companionship, as they were his favourites. Till this moment Charles had not formed an exact notion of William Penderel's height, and he was surprised to find that the gigantic forester stood on a level with him, though he himself was seated on the mill-horse.
Before the little band got into the order of march, William Penderel said to his brothers, in deep impressive accents which vibrated through the king's breast, and moved him greatly:
"His majesty needs no assurance of our fidelity. Nevertheless, since he has deigned to choose us as his guards, let us swear by all we hold sacred to defend him to the last, and against all odds."
"We swear it," cried the others. "We will die before harm shall befal him."
Charles thanked them earnestly for their zeal, adding that he well knew their oath would be kept.
The brave little band then quitted the yard in the order prescribed.
Proud of the trust reposed in them, the loyal brothers almost hoped that their fidelity might be proved. Woe to any rebel patrol that might attempt to stop them! In addition to their wood-bills, William and Trusty Dick had each a pistol—taken from Madmannah. But it was not in their weapons, but in their stout hearts, and strong thews and sinews, that Charles had the greatest reliance. Perhaps, no monarch ever had such an escort as he now possessed in those hardy foresters.
Just as Charles rode out of the yard with a guard on either side, he saw Dame Joan standing at the door with the lantern in her hand, straining her eyes through the gloom, and shouted an adieu to her. This was the last he beheld of the faithful creature.
After passing some outbuildings, the party came in front of the house, which presented a long irregular outline. The night was not dark, for the moon, then in its first quarter, had just risen, and its beams illumined the gables and black and white chequer-work of the old hunting-lodge.
Not without emotion did Charles contemplate the huge fantastic chimney-stack, in the recesses of which he had been hidden; while the little arbour, which next caught his eye, excited a different kind of interest. Mentally he bade farewell to a spot which he felt would always have interest for him. Yet strange to say, though he often spoke of Boscobel in after times, he never revisited the house.
"Take me past the oak," he said to Trusty Dick. "I desire to see the tree once more."
Word to this effect was given to those in advance, but they had anticipated his majesty's wishes, and intended to take him past the royal oak.
Shortly afterwards the party halted beside the noble tree. How beautiful it looked at that hour! its summit silvered by the moonlight, while a few beams found their way through openings in the branches, and fell upon the massive stem. Charles was enchanted.
"Truly that is a royal tree!" he thought. "How majestic it looks among the oaks that surround it, though they are all noble trees, and how it lords it over them—like a king among his peers!" He then added aloud to Trusty Dick, "But for you, my good friend, I should not have made acquaintance with this grand old tree, and I should therefore have lost some of the happiest moments of my life, for though in great jeopardy, I was never happier than during my day's sojourn in the oak; and if I am spared I shall ever look back to the time with satisfaction. Farewell, old tree!" he added. "May I spend another happy day amid thy friendly boughs!"
He then moved on, and the party took their way through a thicket, where the moon's radiance being intercepted by the branches overhead, it was so dark that they could not see many yards before them, and they had to proceed with great caution—the advanced guard halting ever and anon. But nothing occurred to cause them alarm.
At length they reached an opening in the wood, and a broad moonlit glade lay before them, but they hesitated to cross it, and kept among the trees; and the prudence of the step was shown a few minutes afterwards, when a patrol, whom they must infallibly have encountered had they gone straight on, appeared on the lawn.
The sight of the enemy aroused the choler of the loyal brothers, and Humphrey expressed a strong desire to give the knaves a drubbing, but, of course, he was not allowed to gratify his inclination.
There were no witnesses of the passage of the king and his companions through the forest—but had there been, the sight would have been worth viewing. Those dark gigantic figures indistinctly seen among the trees looked strange and mysterious. And when the party issued forth into some more open spot not overhung by boughs, so that the moonlight fell upon them and cast their black shadows on the ground, they looked still more unearthly. Despite the peril to which he was exposed, and the many difficulties and hindrances he had to undergo, the king enjoyed the ride. He would have enjoyed it still more if the horse he bestrode had been less rough of motion. But his majesty's seat in the saddle was far from easy.
At last he lost all patience, and exclaimed:
"Plague take thy horse, Humphrey! Never before was I so jolted."
But his good humour was instantly restored by the miller's ready response.
"Generally, Robin goes well enough," said Humphrey. "But your majesty must consider that he has now got the weight of three kingdoms on his back."
Charles laughed, and made no further complaint.
WHERE THE KING FOUND JASPER.
Notlong afterwards, they reached Chillington Park, but they did not enter it as Father Huddlestone and his companions had done by the avenue gate, but at the back of the hall where the wood was thickest.
This part of the park was overrun with bushes, and it was here, in Rock's Coppice, as it was called, that the dry pit was situated to which Madmannah had been brought. They forced their way, not without some difficulty, through this broad barrier of brushwood, and then a most charming scene burst upon them for which the king was not at all prepared—having heard no description of it.
At the bottom of a long and deep valley, which constituted the most beautiful feature of the park, were several large pools. In later times these pools have been thrown together so as to form an extensive lake, which has been further embellished with a bridge, boat-houses, and fishing-houses; but at the period of our history the valley was left in its wild natural state, and had an air of seclusion which gave it a charm almost as great as that possessed by the present ornamental lake. The high banks on either side were clothed with magnificent timber, and many trees grew so near the pools as to overshadow them.
Charles first beheld this exquisite scene from an elevation commanding the whole length of the valley, and the numerous sheets of water fringed by trees and glittering in the moonlight produced a truly magical effect, that filled him with rapture.
He halted for a short time to gaze at it, and while his eye wandered over the pool immediately beneath him he fancied he descried a boat stealing along under the shadow of the trees on the further side of the pool, and pointed out the object to Trusty Dick, who was standing beside him.
"Your majesty is right," said Dick. "'Tis the fishing-boat belonging to the pool. I know it well—having often used it. There is only one person in it now—and that person, unless I am very much mistaken, is no other than the page Jasper. How say'st thou, William?" he added, appealing to his elder brother.
"I am of the same opinion," replied William. "I believe it to be Jasper."
"Oddsfish! this is strange!" exclaimed the king; "give him a signal that we are here."
Upon this, Trusty Dick descended the bank, and approaching the margin of the pool, gave a loud whistle.
The signal did not require to be repeated. In another moment the boat was seen to cross the pool, and now that the bright moonlight fell upon it there could be no doubt that its occupant was Jasper.
A few strokes of the oar brought the page to the spot where Trusty Dick was standing, and with very little delay they mounted the bank together, and came to the king.
"How is it that I find you here?" cried Charles. "Are you alone?"
"Quite alone, sire," replied Jasper. "Major Careless and Father Huddlestone have left me. But your majesty shall hear what has happened. Having been told that Colonel James and his troopers had left Chillington House, we were foolish enough to go thither, and found it in a terrible state, everything knocked to pieces by the rebel soldiers. While Major Careless and the priest went up-stairs to see what further damage had been done, I remained below, and being tired, presently fell asleep on a bench in the hall.
"I was awakened by a great noise in front of the house, and your majesty may conceive my fright when I found that a small detachment of troops had just arrived. At this moment, I heard Major Careless call me, and not knowing what to do ran up the great staircase, but could find no one. Listening, I heard that the troopers had come in, so I did not dare to go down, but hid myself in a closet, and did not quit it for some time, when finding all quiet, I stole forth, and descended by a back staircase. But this very nearly led to my capture, for some of the troopers were in the kitchen. Fortunately they were eating and drinking at the time, and did not perceive me, so I hastily retreated and went up-stairs again as quietly as I could.
"After this narrow escape I did not dare to make another attempt at flight, but wandered about among the deserted rooms during the rest of the day. Though I was tired to death of my confinement, I was not troubled by the troopers, for none of them came up-stairs, though I could hear them moving about below.
"At length, to my great delight, it began to grow dark, and Ihoped my hour of deliverance was at hand. Taking every precaution, I once more descended the back staircase, and approached the kitchen. No one was there. But the troopers had only just left, for I heard them ride out of the court-yard. On the table were the remains of their repast, and your majesty will not wonder that I picked up all the fragments I could find when you consider that I had eaten nothing since I left Boscobel in the morning."
"I fear you made a very scanty meal," said Charles, compassionately.
"No, indeed, my liege, I got quite enough, and having satisfied my appetite, I quitted the house at the back, and very soon gained the park. Being totally unacquainted with the place I knew not which way to shape my course, and was afraid of losing myself, but I had heard Father Huddlestone say that your majesty and your escort would be sure to pass through this part of the park, so I determined to look out for you.
"When I left Chillington House it was almost dark, but the moon had now risen, and revealed all the beauties of the scene. I wandered on insensibly till I came to this valley, when my further progress was checked by the pool, and I should have turned back had I not discovered a boat moored to the bank. I immediately availed myself of this mode of crossing, but I had only just got into the boat and begun to use the oars, when I heard sounds on the opposite bank that convinced me some persons were there. I hoped it might be your majesty and your attendants, but not feeling quite sure, I thought it best to keep in the shade lest I might be caught in a trap. Your majesty knows the rest, and I have only to beg pardon for my long and tedious narration."
"You have had adventures enough to-day to last you your life," laughed Charles. "But we must not stop here longer. Get up behind me. My horse is somewhat rough, but he is strong enough to carry double."
"He has carried honest Humphrey and Mistress Jane Lane, so I think he will be able to carry me," replied Jasper.
And assisted by Trusty Dick, he sprang up behind the king. Robin's broad back afforded a very comfortable seat, and the page held on securely by the king's girdle.
Once more in motion, the little band, which had now got a slight addition to its numbers, took its way through the woods that hemmed in the long valley. Frequent glimpses were caught of the shining pools as they passed along, and so beautiful was this part of the park, that it was not without regret that Charles quitted it.
The park being inclosed by high pales, they had to make for a gate, and the nearest place of exit being on the Codsall side, theyproceeded in that direction, and soon issued forth on a wide heath, which spread out for several miles.
The district that now lay before them was rendered exceedingly picturesque by its undulating surface, and by the patches of gorse that covered it. Here and there arose a knoll crowned with trees. On the right the heath extended to the little village of Codsall, but on this side, there was more wood. Before them, and reaching almost as far as Pendeford, whither they were bound, was a broad uncultivated tract, almost destitute of trees, yet not without a charm of its own.
Viewed, indeed, on a moonlight night like this, when its harsher features were subdued, and its beauties heightened, the heath presented a very lovely picture.
The night, however, was much too bright and fine for the king's escort, who would have preferred a sky covered with heavy black clouds, and not a star visible. They consulted together for a few moments in a low tone, but did not communicate their fears to the king.
"Your attendants do not like crossing this moonlight heath, my liege," whispered the page.
"So I perceive," rejoined Charles. "Hark ye, my friends," he added to his guard; "we shall be very much exposed methinks, on this heath. Is there no other road?"
"None, my liege, without going too far about," rejoined William Penderel. "Yon clump of trees is our mark," he added, pointing to a distant eminence. "Those trees are not far from Moseley Old Hall. Heaven grant we may get there in safety!"
They then set off across the heath, and the stalwart brothers marched on as blithely as if they had felt no apprehension. Charles, too, appeared unconcerned, though it may be doubted whether he was not more uneasy than his guards; but the page gazed timorously around, expecting every instant to behold a party of the enemy start up from the furze bushes.
BY WHAT DEVICE THE KING ESCAPED BEING CAPTURED BY COLONEL ASHENHURST.
Ifthe king and his escort formed a very striking picture while involved in the forest, the little band looked infinitely more picturesque as they wended their way across the heath. They had begun to dismiss their fears, when, on a sudden, thegreatest consternation was caused by the appearance of a detachment of troopers advancing towards them.
The detachment, which seemed to consist of about a dozen men, with an officer at their head, was about half a mile off, and had hitherto been concealed from view by the inequality of the ground. It was now in full sight, and it became clear from the accelerated pace of the enemy that they themselves were perceived.
What was to be done? Retreat was out of the question, for they were certain to be pursued and captured. They must prove their valour in the defence of the king.
At this anxious moment the ready-witted page called out:
"Fighting is useless against such odds. We must resort to stratagem. Listen to me, loyal foresters. For a short time you must become rascally Roundheads. Pretend you have taken a couple of prisoners—the prisoners to be represented by his majesty and myself. Furthermore, give it out that we are both badly wounded. Do you understand?"
"Ay, we understand well enough," replied Trusty Dick, "and 'tis to be hoped the rogues will believe we are brother rogues, and let us pass. After all, we can but fight it out. But what says your majesty?"
"I like the plan," said the king. "With a little management I doubt not we shall be able to impose upon the rascals. But we must lose no time in preparation. This morning my nose bled profusely. I looked upon it then as a bad omen, but now I regard the matter differently."
And as he spoke, he bound his bloodstained kerchief round his brows, so as to give himself the appearance of a wounded man.
Jasper at the same time tied a kerchief round his left arm, and both put on the appearance of great exhaustion—Charles allowing his head to droop upon his breast.
"Now march on boldly, brothers," said the elder Penderel. "All will depend upon our firmness."
As they went on, William and Trusty Dick kept close to the supposed prisoners.
Presently the detachment came up.
Drawing up his men so as to bar the way, the officer called out in a loud authoritative voice:
"Halt! and give an account of yourselves. Are you good and true men?"
"Good and true men, and friends of the Commonwealth," replied John Penderel, boldly. "Heaven pardon me for the lie," he muttered.
"So far well," said the officer. "But who have you got with you on horseback?"
"A wounded malignant and his servant, who is likewise wounded," replied Humphrey. "The Cavalier is disguised in the garb of a forester, as you see, but he could not 'scape us."
"Where are you conveying the prisoners?" demanded the officer.
"We are taking them to Codsall, and shall deliver them to Colonel Ashenhurst."
"I am Colonel Ashenhurst," replied the officer.
Taken aback by the answer, the sturdy miller did not know what to say. But William Penderel came to his relief.
"Shall we deliver the prisoners to you here, colonel?" he said, "or shall we take them on to Codsall? Since we have come thus far, it matters not if we go a little further. We have been to Chillington House, but did not find Colonel James there."
"Colonel James hath just changed his quarters, and is gone to Brewood," replied Ashenhurst. "Is the chief prisoner badly hurt?"
"He is wounded in the head," rejoined William Penderel. "I do not think he can live long."
"Nay, then, take him and his attendant to Codsall," said Colonel Ashenhurst. "I have other business on hand, and do not desire to go back. I trust to make an important capture before morn. A couple of my men shall go with you, if you desire it, but I cannot very well spare them."
"I thank your honour—but we do not require them," replied William Penderel.
"You will find a physician at Codsall, who will attend to the wounded malignant," continued Colonel Ashenhurst.
"I don't think any physician will do him much good," said Humphrey, unable to resist the jest. "Your honour is scarcely likely to find him—alive, I mean—on your return."
Colonel Ashenhurst did not hear the remark. He had no suspicion whatever of the trick played him, and ordered his men to ride on, gladdening the hearts of the stalwart brothers by his departure.
"I owe my preservation to you, Jasper," said Charles, as he removed the kerchief from his brow.
"Ay, but for this stratagem your majesty might have been captured," remarked Trusty Dick. "I tremble to think of it."
"You have something more to do, Dick," said Jasper. "You must invent some probable story to account for your not delivering the prisoners at Codsall."
"True," cried Charles. "I fear you may suffer on my account."
"Think not of us," said Trusty Dick. "We must take our chance. 'Tis sufficient that your majesty has escaped."
The road to Codsall lay on the right, but Charles and his companionshad no intention of taking it, even as a feint, for Colonel Ashenhurst and his troop were already out of sight. Though anticipating no further danger, they quickened their pace, and soon reached Long Birch.
The portion of the heath they now entered on was wilder than that which they had previously traversed, but there was a tolerably good road across it, and this eventually brought them to the banks of the little river Penk.
About half a mile lower down, this stream turned a mill, and the party now proceeded in that direction, it having been previously arranged that the king should dismount at Pendeford Mill, as it was called, and perform the rest of the journey on foot, and attended only by half his escort, so that his arrival at Moseley Old Hall might not be discovered.
As he was here obliged to part with Jasper, Humphrey Penderel undertook to find the page a secure place of refuge at the mill.
"I know Timothy Croft, the miller, and his wife to be good, honest folks," said Humphrey. "The youth will be perfectly safe with them."
"I will tell Major Careless where he may find thee," said the king to Jasper, "and no doubt thou wilt see him ere long. Thou hast done me good service, and I shall not be unmindful of it. Adieu!"
He then gave him his hand, and the page pressed it devotedly to his lips.
The three persons chosen to attend the king were William, Trusty Dick, and John, and having bidden a kindly farewell to the others, his majesty set off with his guard.
He had not gone far, however, when, turning his head, he saw those he had left standing together, and looking very sad, whereupon he hurried back, and said a few more gracious words to them. His majesty felt that he could not sufficiently thank the brave men who had hazarded their lives for him without fee or reward.
Moseley Old Hall was about two miles from Pendeford Mill, and the heath having been left behind since they had crossed the Penk, the whole aspect of the country had changed, and the road led through narrow green lanes shaded with trees.
Now and then they passed a quiet homestead, surrounded by orchards, or a cottage, and occasionally heard the barking of a dog, but with these exceptions the whole region seemed buried in slumber.
At length, after a quick walk of rather more than half an hour, they came in sight of an ancient mansion, somewhat resembling Boscobel, but larger and loftier, and far more imposing in appearance.
HOW THE KING BADE FAREWELL TO THE PENDERELS; AND HOW HIS MAJESTY WAS RECEIVED BY MR. THOMAS WHITGREAVE OF MOSELEY OLD HALL.
Moseley Old Hall, which we rejoice to say belongs to a direct descendant of the zealous Roman Catholic gentleman who owned it at the period of our story, is one of those charming and picturesque black and white houses that date back to the middle of the sixteenth century, when our old English architecture was in its perfection, and delights the eye with its irregular frontage, its numerous gables, bay windows, projections, and huge stacks of chimneys.
MOSELEY OLD HALL.
MOSELEY OLD HALL.
Even now there is an air of seclusion about Moseley Old Hall, but at the period of which we treat, it was almost surrounded by trees, and though there were one or two habitations near it—much nearer than its owner liked—it had a look of extreme privacy.
The house was large, and contained numerous apartments of all sizes. Indeed, it contained some rooms that were never seen by all its inmates, though it was whispered about among the servants that there were closed up passages leading no one knew whither—perhaps to vaults, secret chambers, and secret closets.
These rumours were not altogether unfounded. Like their friends and neighbours the Giffards, the Whitgreaves had adhered firmly to the old religion, and, like them, had found it necessary to contrive hiding-places for priests and recusants. Many such existed at Moseley Old Hall, and some are still extant.
Descended from an ancient Staffordshire family, who had dwelt at Burton, Thomas Whitgreave, owner of Moseley Old Hall, in 1651, had served during the early part of the Civil Wars under Captain Thomas Giffard, and had distinguished himself for his bravery; but having received a severe wound, from which he was some time in recovering, he retired to his old family mansion, and took no further part in the struggle. Still, his zeal for the cause of monarchy was ardent as ever, and his sympathies being entirely for the young king, he was deeply afflicted by the disastrous result of the Battle of Worcester.
Thomas Whitgreave was still young—at all events, he was not more than thirty-five—tall, and handsome, with a grave but kindly expression of countenance. At the time he received the king, he was unmarried, but his mother, a remarkable old lady, resided with him. Mrs. Whitgreave was as staunch a Royalistas her son, and daily invoked Heaven's vengeance upon the regicide Cromwell.
Mr. Whitgreave kept up a good establishment, though not a large retinue of servants. His domestic chaplain was Father Huddlestone, and he behaved with the greatest consideration to the good priest, not only assigning him rooms for study and devotion, but allowing him to take a couple of pupils. Father Huddlestone was very useful in the house, and, without being meddlesome, exercised a beneficial influence over the family. Mrs. Whitgreave was a devotee, and as scrupulous in the performance of her religious duties as if she had belonged to a convent. A chaplain, therefore, was a necessity to her, and no one could have better discharged the sacred office than Father Huddlestone. Not only did the good priest improve the household by his councils, but his society was extremely agreeable to the master of the house.
Such was the constitution of Moseley Old Hall at the time when the fugitive king was received within it.
Among the Roman Catholic gentry of the period, all of whom were Royalists, there was necessarily a good deal of private communication, conducted chiefly through the medium of the priests. Thus secret intelligence was conveyed to Father Huddlestone of the king's arrival at White Ladies, and it was through Father Huddlestone that John Penderel was enabled to secure a place of refuge for Lord Wilmot. It was from the same quarter that the fugitive king's movements were first made known to the good priest and his patron.
Every preparation had been made at Moseley Old Hall so that the king could be got into the house secretly.
It being now past midnight, all the servants had long since retired to rest. Four persons only were on the alert. These were Lord Wilmot, who remained in his bedchamber; Father Huddlestone, who was stationed in a close, called the Moore, adjoining the mansion; Mr. Whitgreave, who had repaired to another close, called Allport's Leasow, and concealed himself in a dry pit, covered with trees; and Major Careless, who was watching for the king and his companions at the entrance of a long lime-tree walk that led to the ancient mansion.
Careless had to wait there more than an hour, but at length was rewarded by the appearance of the party, and satisfied that he could not be mistaken, went forth to meet them.
A cordial greeting passed between Charles and his favourite, and the latter heartily congratulated his majesty on his safe arrival.
"I had begun to feel somewhat uneasy," he said. "But I knew your majesty was well guarded."
"Truly, I have been well guarded," said Charles, lookinggratefully at his attendants. "But thou wilt be astonished to hear that we have had an encounter with Colonel Ashenhurst. We owe our escape to a device of that clever little page Jasper."
"What do I hear?" cried Careless. "Has your majesty seen Jasper?"
"I have only just parted with him," replied Charles. "Nay, do not trouble yourself. He is safe enough. I left him at Pendeford Mill."
"This is good news, indeed!" cried Careless, joyfully.
"I knew it would delight thee," said Charles, smiling. "But let us to the house. Art thou appointed to do the honours?"
"Mr. Whitgreave is at hand," replied Careless. "If your majesty will be pleased to walk on a little further, I will present him to you. You will find him a most excellent host."
They then marched quickly along the lime-tree walk, until they came to the close which we have said was designated Allport's Leasow.
Here Careless gave the signal agreed upon, and Mr. Whitgreave, who had passed a very anxious hour in the dry pit, immediately issued forth from it.
"Do not present him," said the king, in a low voice, as his host approached. "I should like to see whether he will recognise me."
For a moment or two, Mr. Whitgreave was perplexed.
With the exception of Careless all the group were habited alike in forester's attire, but the stalwart Penderels were not to be mistaken, so after a second survey Mr. Whitgreave no longer hesitated, but threw himself at the feet of the right person, exclaiming:
"This, I am certain, is my royal master."
"You are right, Mr. Whitgreave," rejoined Charles, giving him his hand to kiss. "But oddsfish! I should not have been offended if you had not known me in this garb—though I cannot be ashamed of it, since it is worn by such brave and faithful fellows as these, who have protected me at the hazard of their lives. May I never want such defenders as you and your brothers!" he added, to William Penderel.
"We have simply done our duty, my liege," replied William.
"If others do their duty as well, I shall have reason to be thankful," said Charles, earnestly. "Mr. Whitgreave," he added, "you will excuse me, but since I must now part with these faithful men, I must tell them what I feel in your hearing—and in your hearing too, father," he continued, as the good priest, who having become aware of the king's arrival, had come up. "To all the brothers Penderel I owe much, but to the courage and fidelity of William and Trusty Dick I undoubtedly owe mypreservation. Let what I now say be remembered, and repeated to me hereafter, should the great services they have rendered me be inadequately requited when I have the power to requite them. Farewell, my good and faithful friends!" he continued, with an emotion that he did not seek to repress. "Farewell!"
"Must we quit you, my liege?" cried Trusty Dick. "We will quit our homes and all dear to us to follow your majesty's fortunes."
"It cannot be," rejoined Charles. "I am fully sensible of your devotion, but we must part. You would only be a hindrance to me. Farewell! farewell!"
And he stretched out his hand, which the stalwart brothers seized and pressed to their lips.
"Mr. Whitgreave," he added, "you will take care of these brave men."
"They shall have the best the buttery can afford, my liege," replied Whitgreave. "And I will attend to them myself, as I must needs do, seeing that all my servants are a-bed. Father Huddlestone will conduct your majesty to the house."
Bestowing a last look at the three stalwart brothers, who seemed greatly dejected, Charles, accompanied by Careless, followed Father Huddlestone to the house.
Entering at the rear of the mansion, Father Huddlestone took the king and Careless up a back staircase with cautious steps, and as they neared the summit they perceived a dark figure retreating noiselessly down a passage.
Aware that this was Lord Wilmot, Charles kept silence till he had entered his lordship's room, which was situated at the end of the passage, and he then gave utterance to his satisfaction.
Lord Wilmot, as the reader is aware, was a special favourite of the king, and his majesty had more dependence upon him than upon any one else, save Careless. Lord Wilmot must not be confounded with his son, the dissolute Earl of Rochester, who figured some years afterwards at the court of the Merry Monarch. A brave, chivalrous nobleman, he was able to act as a sort of Mentor to the king.
Lord Wilmot had, in fact, belonged to the court of Charles I., and had acquired the grave manners of that period. Tall and strongly built, he had handsome, expressive features. The Earl of Rochester, as is well known, could successfully counterfeit any part he pleased, but he did not inherit his talent any more than his vices from his father, who could never be prevailed upon to assume a disguise, declaring that, if he did so, he should infallibly be found out.
Seeing that the king looked much fatigued with his journey,Lord Wilmot besought him to postpone all conversation till he had taken some refreshment, and opening a cupboard his lordship produced some cates and a flask of canary.
Charles sat down, and emptying a goblet of generous wine, insisted upon all the others following his example, and while they were doing so a gentle tap was heard at the door, which was opened by Father Huddlestone, and Mr. Whitgreave came in.
"What of my faithful attendants—the Penderels?" cried the king. "Have they been well cared for? Pardon the question, Mr. Whitgreave. I am sure they have."
"They are gone, my liege," replied Whitgreave. "And I must say that I never saw men more grieved to part with a master than these loyal-hearted fellows are to quit your majesty."
"Say you sooth?" cried Charles.
"Your majesty shall judge," replied Whitgreave. "I took them to the buttery, where I have often seen each and all of them make a hearty meal, and where there was plenty of cold meat, and bade them fall to and spare not. They declined. And when I pressed them further, saying they would discredit my house if they went away without supper, they said they had no appetite. 'No appetite!' I exclaimed. 'How is this?' But I soon found out what was the matter. Each honest heart was full, and wanted relief. A single morsel of meat would have choked any one of them. However, they drank a cup of ale to your majesty's health."
"And they are gone?" cried Charles. "I should have liked to see their honest faces once more."
"Your majesty knows where to find them should you again require their services," said Mr. Whitgreave. "And I am sure nothing will delight them more than to have another opportunity of proving their fidelity."
But circumstances, as will be seen as we proceed with our narrative, did not allow Charles to employ any one of the stalwart brothers again. Their part in our story is played. Yet before dismissing them, we would express our genuine admiration of the loyal men we have endeavoured to depict. In describing them we have not gone beyond the truth; nor endowed them with heroic qualities they did not possess. The Penderel brothers were men of unwavering loyalty, brave as faithful, and possessed of such extraordinary strength as rendered them truly formidable antagonists. Fortunately, they were not called upon to display their valour in action. Had they been required to defend the king from an attack during the nocturnal ride from Boscobel to Moseley Old Hall, which we have just described, it is certain they would have done tremendous execution upon his foes, and have delivered him, or died in his defence. Thattheir loyal hearts could not harbour a thought of treason, or quail before peril, we have shown. Their devotion to the fugitive monarch, and the important services they rendered him in his hour of need have gained them a page in England's history. Very pleasant has it been to chronicle their actions, and we part from them with regret.
HOW THE KING WAS PRESENTED TO MRS. WHITGREAVE.
Thoughthe night was now far spent, and he had undergone great fatigue, Charles felt so happy in the society of Lord Wilmot and the others, that he was unwilling to retire to rest, and remained for some time in conversation with the party. Not before three o'clock in the morning, did he ask his host where he was to sleep.
Mr. Whitgreave conducted him to a large chamber panelled with black oak, in which stood an old-fashioned bedstead, with heavy furniture, and a carved canopy almost touching the ceiling.
While looking at this large comfortable bed, Charles feared Mr. Whitgreave would tell him that his safety demanded that he should sleep in some secret closet; but no such suggestion was made.
"I am delighted with my room," said the king to his host; "but where are the hiding-places? I should like to see them, in case an emergency should arise."
"I intended to show them to you to-morrow, my liege," replied Mr. Whitgreave. "But you shall see them at once."
With this he led the king along a narrow passage to another chamber, in which there was a small bed.
"This is my room," said Careless, who accompanied them. "But I am quite ready to give it up to your Majesty, should you prefer it to the large oak chamber you have just seen."
"I have no such desire," rejoined Charles.
"Wait till you have seen the arrangements, my liege," said Careless.
"This room has a false floor, my liege," he said, "and beneath is a narrow passage leading to the ground floor by the brewhouse chimney. But this I will more fully explain to your majesty on the morrow."
"Enough," replied Charles. "I am quite content with what I have seen. I shall now sleep soundly."
He then returned to the oak chamber, and his recent privations made him greatly enjoy the luxury of the large and comfortable bed.
Every possible precaution was taken by Mr. Whitgreave and Father Huddlestone to prevent any of the household from obtaining sight of the king. The servants were given to understand that a fugitive Cavalier had arrived at the house during the night, and was lodged in the oak bedchamber, but they believed him to be a relative of their master, and had no suspicion whatever of the truth.
Charles slept very soundly in his large and comfortable bed, and when he awoke he found Careless watching beside him. After the customary morning salutations had passed between them, Careless pointed to a rich velvet suit spread out on a fauteuil, and said:
"I pray your majesty to look at these habiliments. Your worthy host hopes you will deign to wear them during your stay at Moseley Hall."
"Faith! I am infinitely obliged by the attention," replied Charles. "Pray is Mr. Whitgreave married?"
"Not yet, sire," replied Careless. "But his mother resides with him, and Father Huddlestone tells me the old lady is wonderfully anxious to be presented to your majesty."
"Oddsfish! she must be content to see me in my peasant's costume," said Charles. "Had she been young and fair I might have put on that rich suit to please her. I shall only require some clean linen."
"A shirt is already provided for you, sire, as you perceive," replied Careless.
"'Sdeath! I can never wear that fine shirt," cried Charles. "The laced ruffles would betray me at once."
"Well, here is a country noggen shirt, with coarse hosen to match. Do they please you, sire?"
"The noggen shirt and rough hose will suit me exactly," said the king. "As a punishment for tempting me with fine linen, thou shalt help to resume my disguise."
"Willingly, sire. I am here for the purpose of helping you to make your toilette."
Once more habited in his forester's dress, to which he had now become accustomed, Charles was cautiously conducted by Careless to the library, where he found Lord Wilmot, with his host and Father Huddlestone.
His majesty was received with more ceremony than he liked, and he put an end to it by sitting down to the breakfast prepared for him, and begging the others to join him. They excused themselves, alleging that they had already breakfasted, but Careless having no such excuse to offer, obeyed without theslightest hesitation. The king, however, could not prevent his host and Father Huddlestone from serving him.
Charles was in very good spirits, chatted familiarly with every one present, and seemed to make light of all difficulties and dangers. Mr. Whitgreave was quite surprised by his cheerfulness, and could not help expressing admiration at the manner in which his majesty bore his misfortunes.
"I never suffer myself to be cast down," said the king. "And I have hitherto found my courage rise in proportion to the dangers by which I have been surrounded."
"With the spirit you possess, my liege, and with Heaven's support," observed Father Huddlestone, who was standing by, "you cannot fail to overcome all difficulties, and must regain the throne."
"I trust your prediction will be fulfilled, father," replied Charles. "I can afford to wait. After the failure of my great enterprise, nothing more can be done in England at present. Another army cannot be raised. My object, as you are aware, is to reach the coast and embark for France. But I am environed by enemies."
"This reminds me, sire," said Whitgreave, "that my mother has just received a message, brought by a faithful emissary from Bentley House, which it may import you to hear, as I think it concerns your majesty."
"I must chide you for not presenting your mother to me ere this, Mr. Whitgreave," said Charles. "It will delight me to see her."
"The omission shall be repaired at once, sire," replied Whitgreave.
Making an obeisance, he quitted the library, and presently returned with a tall elderly dame, who had still to some extent preserved her good looks.
Mr. Whitgreave led his mother by the hand towards the king, who saluted her very graciously and prevented her from kneeling, telling her with many kind expressions how much he was indebted to her son for receiving him at this perilous juncture.
"Ah, sire," she exclaimed, "my son and myself are only too proud to receive you, and would sacrifice our lives to accomplish your deliverance. Jane Lane, who is devoted to your majesty, and whom I love dearly as a daughter, has just sent a message to me to say that her brother has obtained a pass from Captain Stone, governor of Stafford, for herself and a groom to go into the west."
And she paused.
"Well, madam, what more?" asked Charles.
"I scarcely dare venture to propose that your majesty should perform the part of a groom, yet seeing you in this garb——"
"Hesitate not to make the suggestion, madam," interrupted the king. "So far from regarding it as a degradation, I shall be delighted to act as Jane Lane's groom. The proposal meets my wishes exactly, and seems to offer me the chance I so eagerly desire of reaching the coast. What sort of person is Captain Stone?"
"A fierce Parliamentarian," replied Whitgreave. "I have reason to remember him. At the conclusion of the Civil Wars he came hither in quest of me, and searched the house most rigorously. But I had taken refuge in one of the hiding-places, and escaped his vigilance."
"The circumstance you mention not only illustrates Captain Stone's character, but proves the security of the hiding-place," observed Charles. He then turned to Lord Wilmot, and said, "It strikes me very forcibly, Wilmot, that this pass must have been procured for you."
"Very likely, Colonel Lane obtained it for me," was the reply. "But I gladly resign it to your majesty."
"Nay, I cannot take your place," said the king.
"You will deeply hurt me by a refusal, sire," said Lord Wilmot. "And now a word to you, Mr. Whitgreave, and I beg your particular attention to what I am about to say. Should any search be made by the rebels for the king while I am in your house, I desire that I may be given up, in order to divert them from his majesty."
"I have not been consulted, Mr. Whitgreave," said Charles. "And I peremptorily forbid you to act as directed by Lord Wilmot. Let no more be said on the subject."
Mr. Whitgreave bowed.
At this juncture, Mrs. Whitgreave, fancying she might be in the way, craved permission to retire, and made a profound obeisance to the king, who conducted her to the door.
HOW TWO SPIES CAME BY NIGHT TO MOSELEY OLD HALL.
"I havea suggestion to make, my liege," said Lord Wilmot, as Charles came back. "On consideration, I think it will be best that I should proceed to Bentley House at once. There I can be of use to your majesty, whereas my presence here rather tends to imperil you. Major Careless can accompany me, if he pleases, and return to let you know when Mistress Jane Lane is ready to set forth on her journey."
"Good," replied the king. "Does Lord Wilmot's proposition meet with your approval?" he added to Careless.
"Perfectly," was the reply. "If your majesty can dispense with my personal services during your sojourn here, I think I can be better employed in acting as a messenger. If I should unluckily fall into the enemy's hands, they will get little out of me. Moreover, if the rogues should get on your track, I will engage to mislead them."
"I have every reliance upon thee," said Charles. "But, faith! I shall be sorry to lose thee."
Almost immediately after the conference just described, his majesty repaired with his attendants to the room above the porch, the latticed windows of which commanded the approach to the house, and of course a sharp look out was kept, but the only persons who came near the place were some wounded soldiers, one of whom Charles recognised as belonging to his own guard, and it distressed him exceedingly that he could not speak with the poor fellow. Mr. Whitgreave, however, and Father Huddlestone gave the men relief, but did not dare to invite them into the house.
About this time Careless disappeared, and was not seen again for two or three hours. When an opportunity occurred, the king questioned him as to the cause of his absence, and Careless owned that he had been at Pendeford Mill, but had not seen Jasper. The page was gone. He had departed early in the morning, the miller said, without mentioning whither he was going.
"You need not be uneasy about him," remarked Charles with a laugh. "He is born under a lucky star, and like myself, as I hope and believe, will escape his enemies. Very probably, you will hear of him at Bentley House."
Careless thought so too, and though disappointed, did not allow himself to be cast down.
No troopers were seen that day, but Careless was able to account for their non-appearance, Croft, the miller, having informed him that the patrols had gone in a different direction, and he added a distressing piece of intelligence, to the effect that Colonel Ashenhurst had paid a visit to Boscobel House, and allowed his men to plunder it.
The king, with Lord Wilmot and Careless, dined in the library, where they were less liable to observation than they would have been in any other room. No servants were present, and Mr. Whitgreave and Father Huddlestone again waited on his majesty.
As soon as the household had retired to rest, Lord Wilmot and Careless took leave of the king, and were conducted by Father Huddlestone to the close called Allport's Leasow, wherethey found Mr. Whitgreave with a couple of steeds, ready saddled and bridled.
Mounting without a moment's loss of time, they bade him and Father Huddlestone good night, and rode off very quietly, till they were far enough from the house, as they judged, to accelerate their pace with safety. They then galloped off in the direction of Bentley House.
After their departure the king remained for some time alone in the room over the porch. Not daring to burn a light, he could not read, and having no inclination for slumber, he was obliged to occupy himself with his own thoughts, and having much to meditate upon, he fell into a deep reverie.
At last he roused himself, and finding that the moon had arisen in the interim, moved towards the lattice window, and gazed at the lovely scene without.
Seen by moonlight, the picturesque old mansion had a most charming effect, but only certain portions of it were visible from the projecting window at which he stood, and he had surveyed with admiration all that came within his ken, when his eye was caught by a glittering steel cap which could just be seen above the garden wall.
A mounted trooper, it appeared, had raised himself in the saddle, and was peering inquisitively at the house.
More careful examination showed the king that the trooper had a comrade with him, the latter being on foot, and armed with a carabine.
Even at that distance, and by that light, Charles recognised the foremost trooper. The man's features were too marked to be mistaken; and, besides, circumstances had fixed them on his memory. It was Madmannah. And Charles did not for a moment doubt that the other was Ezra. Like bloodhounds these two men seemed ever on his track, and the dread that they might hunt him down at last, for a moment shook him.
At this moment the door was softly opened, and Father Huddlestone came in.
"I came to warn your majesty," he said. "But I find you have discovered those two spies."
"Yes, I see them plainly enough," replied the king. "And I can tell you something about them, father, that you would hardly guess. Those are the two rogues who tried to capture me in the oak."
"Is it possible, sire?" exclaimed the priest. "They will fail as they did then. The saints who have your majesty in their guard will thwart their evil designs. Mr. Whitgreave, being somewhat fatigued, has retired to rest. But he bade me call him on the instant if any danger threatened. I will do so now."
"Stay an instant, father," said the king. "I am unwilling to disturb him without cause. I think those two spies are only reconnoitring the house, and do not design to attempt an entrance now."
"Oh! the treacherous villains!" cried Father Huddlestone. "Were I to point them out to my patron, he would fire upon them and destroy them."
"Then do not wake him," said Charles. "I see no cause for apprehension. Look! they are marching off."
"Truly, they are moving, sire, but they have not finished their survey. Having examined the front, they are going to the back of the house."
"You are right, father," replied Charles.
End of Book the Fourth.