"I am glad to hear it," replied Charles. "Should he not hear from me in two or three days, he may conclude I have escaped to France. And now give me your blessing, father."
While preferring this request he bowed his head, and the good priest gave him his benediction.
As the king passed her, Jane Lane fixed a meaning look upon him, and said in a low tone: "At Bentley Hall your majesty will find a safe place of refuge, should you require it."
A hasty adieu sufficed for the page, and with a warm expression of thanks to Mary Penderel, Charles quitted the house with her husband.
HOW CHARLES AND TRUSTY DICK WERE FRIGHTENED BY THE MILLER OF EVELITH.
Thenight was so dark, that without a guide it would have been utterly impossible for the king to find his way through the forest. Trusty Dick, however, experienced no difficulty, but marched along through the trees at a quick pace, and Charles kept close beside him. The crackling of sticks and small branches which they crushed beneath their feet as they proceeded, and the rustling of fallen leaves, betrayed their course, but they did not talk much, lest they should be overheard by a patrol of the enemy. Now and then they paused to listen, and on one occasion, fancying he heard the sound of horses' feet in the distance, Dick immediately struck into another path; but he did not stray far from the direct course.
At this hour there was something mysterious in the gloom of the forest, that acted very powerfully on the king's imagination, and led him to fancy that he discerned strange figures among the trees. But Richard Penderel, to whom he communicated his apprehensions, treated them very lightly.
"Your majesty needn't be alarmed," he said. "The forms you behold are merely trunks of old trees, or projecting boughs. They have a weird look at this time, and I myself have been scared by 'em."
At length they emerged from the forest, and got upon a wide common—greatly to the king's relief, for he had begun to feel oppressed by the gloom. The fresh air, so different from the damp atmosphere he had just been inhaling, laden with the scent of decaying leaves and timber, produced an exhilarating effect upon him, and he strode along vigorously.
While crossing the common, they descried a patrol of horse apparently proceeding in the direction of White Ladies or Boscobel, but they easily avoided them, and quitting the common, they soon afterwards mounted a steep hill, on the other side of which was a brook that turned a water-mill. As they drew near the mill, the sound of voices brought them to a halt. The hour being now late, it was singular that any persons should be astir, and Trusty Dick, naturally alarmed by the circumstance, at first thought of turning back. But to do so would have taken him and his companion considerably out of their course, and he therefore hesitated.
"This is Evelith Mill," he observed in a low voice to Charles, "Roger Bushell, the miller, is a cross-grained fellow, and I think a Roundhead, so I shouldn't like to trust him."
"'Tis safer not," replied the king. "How far are we from Madeley?"
"About two miles," replied Dick. "But if we were obliged to turn back it will add another mile, at least, to the distance."
"Then let us go on," said the king.
So they waited quietly for a few minutes, when the light disappeared, and the voices became hushed.
"Roger Bushell has gone to bed at last," observed Charles. "We may proceed on our way."
So they marched on without fear. But the king was wrong, in his supposition, for as they passed the mill a gruff voice called out, "Who goes there?"
"'Tis the miller himself," whispered Dick.
"Well, answer him," said Charles.
Again the challenge was repeated, and more authoritatively than before, "Who are you? Speak!"
"Friends," replied Dick."
"I know you not," cried the sturdy miller. "If you be friends, stand and give an account of yourselves, or sure as I'm an honest man, and you are a couple of rogues, I'll knock you down."
And he brandished a stout staff as he spoke.
"What shall we do?" asked Charles.
"Beat a retreat," replied Dick. "It won't do to be stopped here."
And as the miller rushed forth to seize them they hurried off; and ascended another hill, never stopping till they were quite out of breath.
"This is a most disgraceful retreat, I must say, Dick," observed Charles.
"I should like to have knocked the dust out of Roger Bushell's jerkin," rejoined Dick. "But I am certain he has got some rebels with him, or he would not have dared to act thus."
HOW THE KING WAS RECEIVED BY MR. FRANCIS WOOLFE AT MADELEY COURT.
Itwas past midnight when Charles approached Madeley, an ancient moated mansion, built of stone, and very pleasantly situated on the borders of the Severn. It belonged to Mr. Francis Woolfe, an old Cavalier, and father of the gallant Captain Woolfe, who figured at an earlier period of this history. As the hour waslate, Mr. Woolfe and his family, with the whole of his household, had long since retired to rest, but they were disturbed by a loud knocking at the door, which continued with very little intermission until the old gentleman got up, and, accompanied by his butler, went to see what was the matter. On opening the door he found Richard Penderel, who was well known to him, and without giving the forester time to explain his errand, eagerly inquired whether he brought any tidings of Captain Woolfe.
"I know my son was present at the battle of Worcester," cried the old Cavalier; "and I fear he may be wounded, as I have not heard of him since."
"I am sorry I cannot relieve your honour's anxiety respecting your son," replied Dick. "But well knowing how staunch a Royalist you are, I am come to beg you to hide a fugitive Cavalier, who fought, like Captain Woolfe, at Worcester."
"Don't ask me to do it, Dick!—don't ask me!—I dare not harbour a Royalist!" cried Mr. Woolfe. "Willingly—right willingly would I do so, but there is too much hazard in it. I am already suspected by the rebels—there is a company of militia at Madeley, guarding the bridge and the river—and were they to search my house and find a fugitive Royalist concealed within it I should be most heavily fined—perhaps imprisoned—perhaps put to death! No, Dick, I will not run this risk for any one, except the king himself."
"Then what will your honour say when I tell you that he whom I ask you to shelter from his enemies is the king? The loyal Mr. Francis Woolfe, I am well assured, will never refuse his sovereign an asylum."
"You are right, my good fellow—you are right," cried the old Cavalier, trembling. "I never supposed it was the king. Why did you not tell me so at first?"
"Because his majesty forbade me," rejoined Dick. "I have disobeyed his orders."
"But he might have trusted me," cried Mr. Woolfe. "I would lay down my life for him. Where is his majesty?"
"On the other side of the moat standing beneath yon great elm-tree," said Dick.
The old Cavalier required no more, but hastily crossing the bridge, proceeded to the spot indicated, followed by his butler and Richard Penderel.
Seeing him advance Charles came forward, and as they met old Mr. Woolfe threw himself on his knee, while Charles, finding himself discovered, gave him his hand to kiss.
"Sire," cried the old Cavalier, "I never thought to see you at Madeley under such sad circumstances. My house and all within it are yours. Enter, I pray you."
And with as much ceremony as if Charles had been a conquerorinstead of a fugitive, he conducted him across the bridge and ushered him into the mansion. For a few minutes he detained his majesty in the hall while the dining-room was lighted up, and when all was ready he led him thither.
To his infinite surprise Charles found an excellent repast awaiting him, and he was served at it by his host and the butler. Seated in this large comfortable room, treated with so much ceremony, and supplied with some of the finest claret he had ever tasted, for a brief space he almost forgot his misfortunes.
However, he would not yield to false security, and after emptying his goblet he questioned Mr. Woolfe as to the possibility of crossing the Severn.
The old Cavalier shook his head dolefully. It was utterly impossible, the bridge being guarded by the militia, and all the boats seized. His majesty must be content to stay at Madeley. Mr. Woolfe did not like to make such a suggestion, but as he had no safe hiding-places, and as a search might be made by the rebels at any moment, he would venture to propose that his majesty should sleep——
"I do not require a state-bed," interrupted Charles. "I am so thoroughly tired that I can sleep soundly anywhere."
"Then I have the less hesitation in proposing that your majesty should sleep in the barn," said the ceremonious old Cavalier. "You will be far safer there than in the house."
"And just as comfortable I make no doubt," said the king.
"I can answer for your majesty's safety there, which I cannot do here," said Mr. Woolfe. "It is just possible that some of the officers of the militia rebels might quarter in the house, as they have done before. In the barn your majesty would not be liable to a surprise. I will keep all my people away from it."
"I see—I see," cried the king, rising from the table, and heaving a sigh as he gazed round the old oak room, with its dark wainscots and portraits. "Take me to the barn."
Nothing but the sense that he was performing a great duty could have compelled the formal old Cavalier to act as he did, but he well knew how much was at stake. Doing great violence, therefore, to his feelings, he took the king to a barn adjoining the mansion, where his majesty found a very comfortable couch in a hay-mow.
Richard Penderel slept in the barn. Very fortunate was it that the king did not stay in the house, as it was visited by a patrol of horse before daybreak. The soldiers instituted a rigorous search, but finding nothing to excite their suspicion departed.
Charles slept soundly in the hay-mow, and the day was far advanced before Trusty Dick thought proper to disturb him. As there was no chance of crossing the Severn, and considerable risk even in stirring forth, the king did not leave the barn. Breakfastwas brought by Dick, and while the king was discussing it in an out-of-the-way corner, he heard the barn-door open, and felt sure from the sounds that followed that more than one person had come in. His alarm, however, was instantly dispelled on hearing Mr. Woolfe's voice, and he immediately left his retreat to meet the old Cavalier. With Mr. Woolfe was a much younger individual, on beholding whom his majesty uttered a joyous exclamation.
"Do my eyes deceive me?" he cried. "Can it be Captain Woolfe?"
"Yes; 'tis my dear son, sire," replied the old Cavalier. "He has only just arrived, but on learning you were here, nothing would content him but I must bring him at once to your majesty."
"I am delighted to see him," said Charles. "I owe my preservation to him. Without Captain Woolfe's aid, I might not have escaped from Worcester."
And as he spoke he extended his hand to the young man, who pressed it fervently to his lips.
"It grieves me to find your majesty here," said Captain Woolfe. "I did not dare to return to Madeley last night, but tarried at Evelith Mill with honest Roger Bushell. Even there we were alarmed about midnight by a couple of Roundhead spies, but the sturdy miller frightened them away."
"Soh! you were at Evelith Mill last night?" cried Charles, laughing.
"I was not the only Royalist there, my liege," replied Captain Woolfe. "With me were Major Careless and Lieutenant Vosper."
"Then learn that the two Roundhead spies whom the miller drove away were myself and Trusty Dick Penderel," said the king, still laughing. "'Tis odd I should be put to flight by my friends. But where is Major Careless? Is he hereabouts?"
"No, my liege, he has gone towards Boscobel, where he fancies your majesty is hiding."
"And where I shall be forced to hide after all, since it appears impossible to escape into Wales," said the king.
"I must again implore your majesty not to make the attempt," cried the old Cavalier. "It would be attended with too much hazard. Your security must be the first consideration, and though I esteem it the highest honour to have the care of your majesty, I feel you will be safer at Boscobel."
"I will go thither to-night," said Charles.
"'Twill be the best course to pursue, my liege," observed Captain Woolfe. "Some plan for your escape can be devised. We shall all be ready to lend you aid."
Soon after this the old Cavalier returned to the house, but his son remained in the barn to bear the king company. Though Captain Woolfe was an agreeable companion, and did his best to amuse the king, Charles was very glad when night came on, sothat he could shift his quarters with safety. He supped with the old Cavalier and his son, and passed so pleasant an hour with them that he was quite loth to take his departure.
It was not far from midnight when Charles took leave of Mr. Woolfe and his son. At that moment the old Cavalier almost repented that he allowed the king to depart, and made an effort to detain him till the morrow, but Captain Woolfe thought it best that his majesty should adhere to his plan. Father and son conducted him across the moat, and attended him to the outer gate, and Charles having taken leave of them there, set out on his journey with his faithful guide. Fortunately, their nocturnal walk was unattended by any danger, and the only annoyance they experienced was caused by having to wade across the brook that turned Evelith Mill, but this was a trifling matter, which gave the king no concern whatever.
In less than two hours, as well as they could reckon, for neither of them had a watch, they reached Boscobel Wood; but before entering it Dick deemed it prudent to call at the cottage of his brother John, which was close at hand, and ascertain from him that all was safe.
BOSCOBEL HOUSE.
BOSCOBEL HOUSE.
Accordingly they proceeded thither, and Dick knocked against the door with his staff. An upper window was quickly opened by John Penderel, and seeing who they were, he descended and let them in. His first business was to strike a light, and as he did so the king discovered a Cavalier—for such his attire proclaimed him—fast asleep in a chair.
"A stranger here!" exclaimed Dick, surprised. "Why didn't you tell us so, John?"
"The gentleman is no stranger to his majesty," replied the other.
Just then, the Cavalier, aroused by the light and the voices, sprang to his feet, and the king perceived it was Major Careless. The unexpected meeting was extremely agreeable to both.
"I heard your majesty was gone to Madeley," said Careless, after a cordial greeting had taken place between him and the king; "but I felt sure you would never be able to cross the Severn, and I therefore thought it likely you would come to Boscobel. I myself got as far as Evelith Mill, but returned yester morning."
"Is all safe here?" asked the king.
"No, my liege, very much the reverse I am sorry to say," replied Careless. "Patrols of the enemy are constantly searching the woods and visiting all the habitations around. I had several narrow escapes yesterday, and but for honest John Penderel here should infallibly have been captured."
"I am just as much indebted to Trusty Dick," said Charles. "Without him, I should not be here now."
"There are five of us on whom your majesty can rely," saidJohn, who was just as stalwart and as honest-looking as his brothers. "If we had not been loyal, Father Huddlestone would have made us so. Last night, the good priest went to talk to our brother Humphrey, the miller of Boscobel."
"I will now put your loyalty to the test, John," said the king.
"Your majesty cannot please me better," was the reply.
"Go then to Boscobel House, and satisfy yourself that I may safely proceed thither."
"It shall be done, my liege," rejoined John Penderel, evidently well-pleased by the order. "As soon as I have put on my doublet, I will set forth."
"The office is mine, by rights," observed Trusty Dick. "Nevertheless, I willingly resign it to John."
"Judging by myself, thou hast need of rest, my faithful fellow," said Charles, kindly. "I would fain spare thee further trouble."
John Penderel vanished, but in a minute or two reappeared, fully equipped, and grasping a stout staff, sallied forth.
It was now about three o'clock in the morning, and feeling much fatigued with his walk, and uncertain as to the rest he might obtain, Charles threw himself into the arm-chair lately occupied by Major Careless, and almost instantly fell asleep.
Careless found another seat and followed his majesty's example, while Trusty Dick having carefully barred the door, sat down on a settle, and fell into a sort of doze, during which he dreamed he was fighting half a dozen Roundheads.
More than an hour elapsed before John Penderel returned. All the sleepers were roused by his knock at the door. He had seen a patrol of rebels in the wood, but they were coming from Boscobel—not proceeding thither—and he easily avoided them and went on to the house. There he saw Brother William, who told him they had got rid of all the rebels, so his majesty might come there without fear.
On receiving this satisfactory intelligence, Charles, being most anxious to obtain a secure asylum, set forth at once. He was accompanied by Careless, and guided and guarded by the two stalwart brothers, who would have sold their lives rather than allow him to be captured. They made their way through the depths of the wood by paths only known to the two foresters, and encountered nothing more dangerous than a squirrel or a thrush.
After half an hour's walk through the wood, they came upon a lawn studded by trees, among which were several ancient oaks. Day was just breaking, and now that they had got out of the dense wood, the sun burst upon them. At the further end of the lawn, Charles perceived an old mansion, with walls chequered black and white, gables, bay windows with lattice-panes, andan immense chimney-stack projecting from the side. He did not require to be told that it was Boscobel House.
How quiet, how sequestered, how beautiful looked the old structure at that early hour! Charles stood still to gaze at it. No place had ever had the like effect upon him.
While he was still gazing at the picturesque old mansion, and noting the huge chimney-stack we have mentioned, a gigantic figure issued from the garden gate.
It was William Penderel, who having descried the party from an upper window, had come forth to bid his majesty welcome and usher him into Boscobel House.
End Book the Second.
ROOM AT BOSCOBEL HOUSE.
ROOM AT BOSCOBEL HOUSE.
THE ROYAL OAK.
SHOWING HOW THE HUNTING-LODGE WAS BUILT BY THE LORD OF CHILLINGTON, AND HOW IT ACQUIRED ITS NAME.
Towardsthe latter part of Elizabeth's reign, when those who professed the tenets of the Church of Rome were prevented by heavy penalties from performing the rites of their religion, while such as refused to take the oath of supremacy were held guilty of high treason, John Giffard, eleventh Lord of Chillington, in Staffordshire, himself a strict Roman Catholic, and a great sufferer from the oppressive measures referred to, determined to provide a safe asylum for recusants in a secluded part of his domains; and with this view he built a hunting-lodge in the depths of Brewood Forest, which then belonged to him, and contrived within the lonesome structure several secret hiding-places.
The situation was remarkably well chosen. Buried in a wood, where it was hardly likely to be discovered, the hunting-lodge was placed on the exact boundary line between Shropshire and Staffordshire, so that it was difficult to say in which county it stood. The whole surrounding district was covered with woods and commons—the nearest habitations being the ruined monasteries of White Ladies and Black Ladies. Several large trees had been removed to make way for the lodge and the outbuildings connected with it, but it was screened by majestic oaks, which grew within a few yards of the gates. Through these trees enchanting views could be obtained of the sylvan scenery beyond, of vale and upland, and purple heath, until the vast prospect wasterminated by the picturesque Clee Hills and the blue outline of the Wrekin.
Nothing, however, save forest timber could be discerned in the immediate vicinity of the lodge, and from this circumstance it obtained its designation. On the completion of the building, the Squire of Chillington invited some of his friends to the house-warming. Among them was Sir Basil Brooke, then newly returned from Rome.
"How shall I name the place?" asked John Giffard.
"I will give you a charming and appropriate name for it," replied Sir Basil. "Call it Boscobel—from the Italian Bosco bello—Fair Wood."
The suggestion was adopted, andBoscobelit became.
The solitary forest lodge answered its double purpose well. Its real object was not suspected, nor were its hiding-places discovered, though often resorted to by recusants during the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. Hunting and hawking-parties were sometimes assembled at the lodge by the Squire of Chillington to keep up appearances, but on such occasions due precautions were always taken for the security of those hidden within the house. No servants were employed except those on whose fidelity entire reliance could be placed—and who were themselves Romanists. Of the numbers of persecuted priests harboured at Boscobel none were ever betrayed. Nor during the Civil Wars was a fugitive Cavalier ever refused shelter.
A staunch Royalist as well as zealous Romanist, Peter Giffard, grandson of the builder of Boscobel, suffered severely for his adherence to the cause of the unfortunate Charles I. His noble ancestral domains were confiscated, and he himself was imprisoned at Stafford. Not till the Restoration did the loyal family recover their estates.
At the time of our history Chillington was almost entirely abandoned. In this magnificent mansion Queen Elizabeth had been entertained in princely style during one of her progresses by John Giffard; and the house, from its size and situation, had been once under consideration as a suitable place of confinement for Mary, Queen of Scots. Its hospitalities were now at an end—its halls desolate. When the unfortunate Peter Giffard was deprived of his abode, Chillington was converted into a garrison by Sir William Brereton, and great damage done to it by the Parliamentary soldiers. Luckily, they could not destroy the beautiful avenue and the park, though they despoiled the house and laid waste the splendid old gardens.
Boscobel, though only two miles distant from the hall, escaped injury at this perilous juncture. William Penderel, who had been placed in charge of the lodge by the Squire of Chillington, was not disturbed, and was consequently able to afford shelter tomany a Royalist. The rest of the brothers were equally lucky. George was allowed to remain at White Ladies, and the others pursued their quiet avocations in the forest. No doubt they enjoyed this immunity solely because they did not excite Sir William Brereton's suspicions.
William Penderel had now been two-and-twenty years at Boscobel. The office of under-steward was conferred upon him at the time of his marriage, so that he obtained a most comfortable residence for himself and his wife—the only drawback being that the tenure of the post was somewhat insecure, and when the Chillington estates were sequestered, he fully expected to be turned off. However, he was at Boscobel still. William had four children—two sons and two daughters—but they were now from home.
In Dame Joan, his wife, he possessed a capital helpmate. She could not boast of much personal attraction, but she had many excellent qualities. A model of prudence, she could be safely trusted on all emergencies, and she was as good-tempered as discreet. Tall and strong, Dame Joan was not masculine either in look or manner, and her features, though plain and homely, had a kindly expression, that did not belie her nature. She had a thoroughly honest look, and the tidiness of her apparel proclaimed an excellent housewife. Such was the opinion formed by Charles of this worthy woman, as he beheld her for the first time, when crossing the threshold of Boscobel House.
After making him an obeisance, not devoid of a certain rustic grace, Joan drew back respectfully, and ushered his majesty and Careless into a parlour on the ground floor, and then made another obeisance.
"Oddsfish! my good dame," said Charles, smiling. "You understand matters of ceremony so well, that you must e'en come to court—supposing I should ever have a court."
"Boscobel was greatly honoured when the Earl of Derby sought shelter here," replied Joan. "But it is now far more highly honoured since your majesty has set foot within the house. My husband and myself are not fitting persons to receive your majesty, but we will do our best, and you may depend upon it we will watch over you most carefully."
This was the finest speech Joan had ever delivered, but she deemed it necessary to the occasion. Charles thanked her graciously, but said, "Mark me, my good dame. All ceremony must be laid aside. Any observance of it might endanger my safety. When I put on this garb I became one of yourselves. Address me only as Will Jackson."
"I can never bring myself to address your majesty by such a name as that!" said Joan.
"Wife! wife!" cried William Penderel from behind. "You must do whatever his majesty bids you, without a word."
"Why, you are committing a similar error, William," laughed the king. "But if you desire to oblige me, my good dame, you will go and prepare breakfast."
"Master William Jackson shall have the best the house can furnish—and quickly," replied Joan, departing.
The apartment into which the king had been shown was tolerably large, though the ceiling was low, and it was lighted by a bay-window at the further end, and by a lattice-window at the side, commanding the entrance to the house, and looking out upon the wood. A very pleasant room, wainscoted with black oak, and furnished with an ample dining-table, and chairs of the same material. In the days of old John Giffard many a festive party had gathered round that board after a day's hunting or hawking in the forest, but it was long, long since there had been revelry of any kind at the lodge. Over the carved oak mantel-piece hung a picture that caught Charles's attention. It was the portrait of a grave-looking personage in a velvet doublet and ruff, with eyes so life-like that they seemed to return the king's glances.
"The old gentleman above the fireplace appears to bid me welcome," observed Charles. "He has a fine face."
"It is the portrait of Squire John Giffard of Chillington, who built this house, my liege," said William Penderel. "It has always been accounted a good likeness. Ah! if the worthy squire could but have foreseen who would come here for shelter! Some good saint must have inspired him, when he contrived the hiding-places."
"Of a truth, I ought to feel much beholden to him for providing me with such a place of refuge," remarked Charles.
While examining the room, the king noticed a door on the left, and found on investigation that it opened on a small closet, with a lattice-window looking upon a retired part of the garden. There was no furniture in the closet except a desk, which might be used for prayer.
"Is this one of the hiding-places?" asked Charles.
"No, my liege," replied William Penderel, who had followed him. "This is an oratory. We are Roman Catholics, as your majesty is aware."
"I see no altar," observed Charles.
William Penderel opened a recess in the wall, so contrived that it had quite escaped the king's attention, and disclosed a small altar, with a cross above it.
"Here we pay our devotions in private," he said.
"And here I will pay mine," rejoined Charles. "I mustreturn thanks to the Great Power that has hitherto preserved me. Leave me."
Careless and William Penderel at once retired, and closed the door of the oratory.
Left alone, Charles knelt down before the altar, and was for some time occupied in fervent prayer.
BOSCOBEL HOUSE FROM THE FRONT.
BOSCOBEL HOUSE FROM THE FRONT.
HOW TRUSTY DICK BETHOUGHT HIM OF THE OAK.
Inthe hasty description of Boscobel House, previously given, it was remarked that the most singular feature of the edifice was a huge projecting chimney-stack. A very extraordinary chimney it was, for it had as many as seven small windows, or apertures, within it, placed at various heights, the two lowest of the openings being about eight or nine feet from the ground. Viewed at the side it could be seen that the chimney-stack, which rose considerably above the roof, formed part of a projecting wing of the house, and that there must be something peculiar in the construction of the funnels. Altogether it had a strange, mysterious look, and suggested the idea that the builder must have been slightly crazed. Yet, odd as it was, the huge, heavy, fantastic chimney harmonised with the rest of the structure. The reader will have already surmised that within this chimney-stack a secret hiding-place existed; the entrance to it being from a closet connected with a bedroom on the first floor—as will be more particularly described hereafter—while there was an outlet into the garden through a little postern, completely screened by ivy.
Since the king's arrival at Boscobel, the chimney-stack had acquired a new interest in Trusty Dick's eyes, and being now left in the garden to keep watch, he scrutinised it with an anxiety such as he had never heretofore felt, peering up at the narrow slits of windows, and stooping down to ascertain that the postern was completely hidden by the ivy.
Never before had he doubted the security of the hiding-place, but misgivings now came over him. What if a careful examination of the chimney, outside and inside, should be made while the king was concealed therein? Discovery would then be inevitable. Pondering upon the matter, Dick quitted the garden, and in another instant was among the noble old trees growing near the house.
An idea had taken possession of him, and he walked on till hereached a giant oak which, standing a little clear of its fellows, was able to spread abroad its mighty arms. This was the tree he sought. Though it must have been centuries old, the oak seemed in full vigour, and had suffered very little from decay. Its trunk was enormous. It had not, however, grown to a great height, but had spread laterally. Dick examined this ancient oak very carefully—walked slowly round it—looked up at the bushy central branches, and seemed perfectly satisfied with his scrutiny.
"This is the tree for the king to hide in!" he mentally ejaculated; "this is the tree!—the best in the whole forest. No one could discover him among those thick branches."
He was still examining the oak when he was roused by Major Careless, who had been searching for him, and having found him, called out, "What ho! Dick—have you deserted your post?"
Dick explained the object that had brought him thither, and when he concluded, Careless said, "You are right, Dick. In that oak our royal master will be safe from his enemies. I will bear him company while he hides within the tree. But I must look at it more closely."
Not content with inspecting the tree, Careless determined to test its efficiency as a place of concealment, and with his companion's aid, he therefore climbed up into it, and concealed himself among the smaller branches.
"Canst see me now, Dick?" he called out.
"See you!—not a bit," rejoined the other. "I should never guess your honour was up there."
The assurance was quite enough for Careless, and he quickly descended.
"Thou hast made a most lucky discovery, Dick," he cried. "'Tis a famous tree to hide in. His majesty will be as comfortable amid its branches as if seated in an arm-chair. I will tell him so."
While returning to the house they caught sight of two persons approaching through the trees, and might have felt some alarm had not Dick instantly recognised his brother Humphrey.
With Humphrey Penderel was a well-clad youth, whose slight figure contrasted strikingly with that of the stalwart miller.
As the pair advanced, Careless's curiosity was much excited by the appearance of this youth, and he questioned Dick concerning him.
"He is named Jasper," was the reply. "He is page to Mistress Jane Lane."
"Mistress Jane Lane's page! Impossible!" cried Careless, whose surprise increased as the youth drew nearer, and his delicately-formed features could be more clearly discerned.
"Nay, 'tis quite certain," remarked Dick. "He came withher the other night to Hobbal Grange. He is a forward youth, and talked much with the king, who sat beside him, and seemed to notice him."
"I marvel his majesty did not tell me of the meeting," cried Careless.
"Doubtless, he had forgotten it," said Dick.
They had waited till the others came up, and as the page approached, he seemed somewhat confused, but quickly regained his composure.
Humphrey Penderel, the miller of Boscobel, was just as big, and as strongly-built as his brothers, but his broad good-humoured countenance did not wear its customary smile. On the contrary, he appeared anxious. After returning the sturdy miller's salutation, Careless addressed the page, who for the moment completely engrossed his attention.
"Good morrow, Jasper!" he said.
"I give your honour good day," replied the page, doffing his cap, and letting fall locks that had evidently not been subjected to Puritan scissors. "I believe I am speaking with Major Careless."
"Right, good youth. If thou hast aught to say to me in private, prithee step aside."
"I have nothing to say to your honour that the others may not hear," returned Jasper, declining the invitation. "I will only ask you to bring me to his majesty."
"I know not that his majesty will see you," said Careless. "I will take your message to him."
"I am quite sure he will see me," rejoined the page. "Mention my name to him, and 'twill suffice."
"Aha! you think so. His majesty will laugh at me if I tell him that a saucy page desires to be admitted to his presence."
"I pray you make the trial," said Jasper. "You will find that I am right, and you are wrong."
"Do you bring a message from Mistress Jane Lane?"
"Your honour must excuse my answering that question. My business is important—very important—and does not admit of delay. If you decline to take me to his majesty, I will proceed to the house, and endeavour to find him. I will not be thwarted in my purpose."
"You have boldness enough for anything."
"'Tis a duty to be bold when the object is to serve the king."
"How knew you that his majesty is at Boscobel? Tell me that."
"I obtained the information from Humphrey Penderel, who brought me here. But do not question me now—I must and will see the king."
"'Must and will' see him?"
"Ay, and without delay. You will incur his sovereign displeasure if you detain me."
"I will put that to the test," cried Careless. "You must stay here while I go to him."
An end, however, was put to the discussion by the appearance of the royal personage to whom it related.
Charles, having finished his devotions in the oratory, had come forth into the garden, and after lingering there for a short time had passed out into the wood, where he chanced upon an opening that gave him a view of the vast sylvan scene with the Clee Hills and the rounded Wrekin in the distance.
After gazing at the fair prospect for a few minutes he moved in another direction, and presently came in sight of the party standing beneath the trees. Great was his surprise, when the page, who could not be restrained by Careless, ran towards him, and would have bent the knee, if the king had not checked him.
"How is this?" cried Charles. "Have you left your mistress to follow the fortunes of a fugitive Cavalier?"
"I hope soon to rejoin Mistress Jane Lane, my liege," replied Jasper. "I have not come in quest of Major Careless, for sooth to say, I did not know he was here. I have come to warn your majesty that your enemies are on your track, and will search for you here to-day."
"Here!" exclaimed Charles.
"Here—at Boscobel," rejoined Jasper. "They believe they have run you to ground, and make sure of capturing you. Your majesty will wonder how I obtained this information. You shall hear. Yesterday, Mistress Jane Lane and myself remained at Hobbal Grange, as we did not like to quit our retreat, but in the evening we proceeded to the mill belonging to Humphrey Penderel, being assured that that honest man would convey us to Moseley Hall. We had not long arrived at the mill, when a patrol stopped there, and we had only just time to hide ourselves when the rogues entered the house. I was concealed in a chest standing in the room in which they sat down, and consequently overheard their discourse. It related entirely to your majesty. You have been traced to White Ladies, and they are certain you are somewhere hereabouts. They are equally certain they shall be able to discover your retreat—but I trust you will be able to baffle them. Their orders are to search Boscobel to-day, and they will be accompanied by Colonel James, who is now quartered at Chillington. All this, and a good deal more, I heard while ensconced in the chest. They spoke of the reward offered for your majesty's discovery, and told Humphrey Penderel he should have a thousand pounds, which would make him rich for life, if he delivered you up to them, but that he would be hanged as a traitor if he helped to conceal you.Humphrey made no answer at the time, but afterwards declared he should like to have broken their heads for so insulting him."
"Brave fellow!" exclaimed Charles. "He is as trusty as his brothers."
"No fear of him," said Jasper. "But Colonel James is greatly to be apprehended. He is one of your majesty's most dangerous enemies, and will use his utmost endeavours to find you. I do not think you will be safe at Boscobel."
"Where shall I be safe?" cried Charles. "I have only just arrived here, and now you counsel me to quit my retreat."
"Hide yourself in the forest, sire, and return to the house after it has been searched."
"The advice is good, and I am inclined to follow it," rejoined the king. "Mistress Jane Lane, I trust, is in safety?"
"She is at Moseley Hall, sire. As soon as the rebels were gone, Humphrey Penderel put a pillion on his pad-nag, and took her there."
"And you?"
"I remained to warn your majesty."
"I am infinitely obliged to you—but confess that you had some slight expectation of finding Major Careless with me, and I am glad you have not been disappointed."
"I had no such expectation, sire," replied the page, blushing. "I understood Major Careless was at Madeley. I neither sought, nor desired a meeting with him."
"Odsfish! you have changed your mind since we last met."
"Perhaps so, sire. But I would not have my motive misconstrued. 'Tis devotion to you that has induced me to take this step. When I learnt that Colonel James was at Chillington—in quest of you—and resolved to discover your retreat, I felt you were in great danger, and I therefore made up my mind to warn you. Had I not found you here I should have gone to all the places where you were likely to take refuge. I have discharged my duty—and unless your majesty has some commands for me, I shall take my departure for Moseley Hall, where I hope to find Mistress Jane Lane. If she has gone on to Bentley Hall, I shall follow her thither."
"Shall I send Major Careless with you?"
"On no account. Humphrey Penderel has undertaken to take charge of me. Heaven guard your majesty!"
Making an obeisance to the king, Jasper hastened back to the party who had been watching the interview with some curiosity, and signing to Humphrey Penderel, the sturdy miller instantly started off through the trees, while the page followed him, totally disregarding Major Careless's entreaties to him to stop.
HOW THE KING AND CARELESS TOOK REFUGE IN THE OAK.
Carelesswould have followed, but was prevented by the king, who strode quickly towards the spot where he was standing with Trusty Dick, and forbade him to stir.
"Spare me a moment, I beseech you, sire," cried Careless. "I must have a word with this youth."
"Stir not," said Charles, in an authoritative tone. "He has told me all it is necessary I should know, and you can question him on your own account at a more convenient season."
"But there seems to be a misunderstanding, sire, which may be rectified in an instant, if you will only allow me——"
"Not now," interrupted Charles. "No time must be wasted in idle talk. The youth has come to warn me that this house of Boscobel will probably be searched to-day by Colonel James, who is quartered at Chillington."
"Humphrey has just informed me that the rebel troopers were at the mill last night, sire," observed Dick; "and they told him they were sure your majesty was concealed somewhere hereabouts, and they would never rest till they found you."
"They told him something more," said Charles. "They offered him a large reward to betray me."
"He didn't tell me that," said Dick. "But Humphrey is no traitor, sire."
"He is as loyal and faithful as yourself, Dick. I cannot say more. But now—give me your frank opinion. In the event of a rigorous search by this confounded Colonel James, do you think I should be safe in yonder house?"
"Well, your majesty might be discovered—and you might not," hesitated Dick.
"That's no answer, Dick," said the king. "Speak plainly, man."
"I've already had some misgivings, sire. While these scoundrelly troopers are about, and especially when they've got an active leader, who will peer into every hole and corner, my honest opinion is that your majesty will be safer in the wood than in the house. There are no hiding-places like those of Boscobel—that I'll uphold—but your majesty's safety is too precious to be trifled with."
"Nothing must be left to chance," said Careless. "I am of Trusty Dick's opinion that till this threatened danger has blown over, your majesty will be safest in the wood. We have found a tree in which you can hide."
"I hope it is an oak," cried Charles. "I would rather owe my safety to the king of the forest than to any inferior tree."
"Truly it is an oak—a grand old oak—and hath not its peer in the forest," said Dick.
"Take me to it," said Charles.
In another minute he stood before the tree.
He was gazing at it with admiration, when William Penderel and his brother John were seen at a distance, evidently in quest of his majesty, and no sooner did they descry him than they hurried forward.
"You are looking for me, William?" said the king.
"Your majesty must be pleased to return at once to the house," replied William Penderel. "Indeed, I must make bold to say it is highly imprudent to stray so far away, when the enemy is lurking about. John, who has been acting as scout, brings word that a small detachment of troopers, with Colonel James at their head, are coming from Chillington, and are almost certain to find their way here."
"I have run so fast to get before them that I have well-nigh lost my breath," gasped John. "But I beseech your majesty to conceal yourself without delay."
"I mean to do so—in this tree," replied Charles.
"In this tree!" cried William, in a tone of disappointment. "Everything is prepared in the house."
"His majesty has decided upon taking refuge in this oak," said Careless.
"Nay, then, no more need be said," observed William Penderel. "And perhaps it may be for the best. But you have not breakfasted, sire. And my good dame has got all ready for you."
"I must dispense with breakfast, I fear," observed Charles, with a sigh.
"Oh! we can breakfast in the tree," cried Careless. "There is every convenience among the branches. Can't you bring a basket of provisions, William, with a flask of wine?"
"Suppose I am caught by the Roundheads, they will at once conclude the provisions and wine are intended for his majesty. Most assuredly, the house will be watched."
"You cannot be too cautious, William," observed the king. "I care not how long I fast."
"But I do," groaned Careless.
"Help me to climb the tree," cried Charles.
The king, who was remarkably active, scarcely needed the assistance he demanded, and, with very slight aid from William Penderel, was quickly among the branches.
"Your majesty is as nimble as a squirrel," cried the forester, in admiration.
"Are you coming to me, Careless?" said the king, looking down.
"Most certainly, sire," replied the major.
And in another instant he was by the king's side.
"Do not tarry here longer, my good friends," cried Charles to the brothers. "I feel quite safe, now I am in this oak. Return to me when you can do so without risk."
In obedience to his commands, the three brothers departed—William Penderel returning to the house, while Trusty Dick and John posted themselves in different parts of the wood, but at no great distance from the oak in which the king was hidden.
HOW CARELESS CAPTURED AN OWL IN THE OAK.
Seatedupon a large bough, and with his feet upon a lower branch, the king looked down at Careless, and could not help laughing at him.
"This would be an amusing adventure if your majesty's safety were not in question," observed the major.
"I suppose you never spent a day in a tree, Will?"
"Never, sire. I don't know what it's like. I have done a good many strange things in my time, but this is one I never yet did. We must make ourselves as cheerful as we can under the circumstances."
"You have the happy knack of being always cheerful, Will."
"I am not half so light-hearted as your majesty. Besides, I have nothing to trouble me. I have not lost a kingdom. I have not even lost a mistress."
"I am not so certain of that," laughed Charles.
"At any rate, her loss does not give me much concern. Women are enigmas, and pass my comprehension."
"Thou art thinking of one in particular."
"The sex are all alike—whimsical, capricious, inconstant."
"But always attractive. What hath displeased thy mistress with thee?"
"On my honour, sire, I know not. Methought she was flying at higher game."
"You need fear no rival in me, Will. I am proof against all feminine wiles just now. I have something else to think of. But let us examine our quarters."
"Climb a little higher up, my liege, and you will find a most comfortable seat—there!—between the main stem and one of the upper branches."
"I have it," said Charles, seating himself. "Oddsfish! howthick the foliage is! 'Tis a perfect luxury to sit amongst it. Find a place near me if thou canst."
Careless obeyed, and while searching for a convenient place among the branches, suddenly called out:
"Adzooks! We have a companion, sire."
"A companion!" exclaimed the king, in surprise. "What sort of companion?"
"An owl," replied Careless. "A great horned owl. Behold him!—perched on that branch, puffing angrily at me for intruding upon his rest. I wonder he has not taken flight. I'll try and capture him. He may be of use to us."
"In what way useful? We are better without him than with him, methinks."
But the interdiction was too late. Careless had caught the owl by throwing his mantle over him.
"Here he is, sire!" he cried, delighted with his success.
"If thou couldst cook him now he is caught, there would be some gain," laughed Charles.
"He will serve to amuse us if he answers no other purpose," said Careless. "But hark! I hear a sound." And after listening intently for a moment, he added in a low voice to the king, "'Tis the trampling of horse. A patrol is coming this way."
"I hear the voices of the rogues. Are we perfectly concealed?"
"Perfectly, my liege. Keep quite still. I beseech you! The slightest noise may betray us."
From the sounds that reached their ears it was plain that three or four horsemen had halted beneath the tree, and were lamenting the ill success that had attended their search for the royal fugitive.
"'Tis strange Charles Stuart contrives to evade us so long," remarked one of them. "I begin to think he has escaped."
"Had he attempted to escape, we should assuredly have captured him," cried another. "He hath baffled us by keeping quiet. I doubt not he is still in this wood. Ah! if we could only discover his retreat. That Humphrey Penderel could have helped us to it if he would. He is a lying rogue."
"Colonel James thinks that the malignant prince will be found at Boscobel," observed a third. "But I doubt it. He does not enter a house. My belief is that he is hidden in a tree."
"Perchance in a tree like this?" observed the first interlocutor. "If such is thy opinion, dismount quickly, and climb the tree—even to the top thereof."
"And be laughed at for my pains. No, I will not climb the tree, but I will discharge my caliver into its branches. If I bring down Charles Stuart with the shot ye will not mock me."
"Of a surety not—we will greatly applaud thy wisdom," cried the others.
Upon this the trooper who had previously spoken, pointed his caliver upwards, and fired into the thick of the branches. A loud rustling sound followed the shot.
"I have hit something!" cried the trooper, exultingly. "Peradventure it is the king."
"If it be the king he has taken the form of a bird," cried the troopers, laughing.
As they spoke the owl dropped down on their heads, and its wing being broken by the shot, it fluttered along the ground.
Shouting with laughter, the troopers pursued the unlucky bird, but could not catch it.
"I have had a narrow escape," said Careless to the king, as soon as the coast was clear. "That rogue's bullet came confoundedly near me. Your majesty will now admit that an owl may be of some use. It has helped us to get rid of those rascally troopers."
HOW THEY BREAKFASTED IN THE OAK.
Thankfulfor their escape, the king and Careless remained perfectly quiet for some time, conversing only in whispers, lest an enemy might be lurking near.
More than an hour elapsed without anything occurring to cause them fresh alarm, when a low whistle was heard.
"A signal!" exclaimed Charles.
"It may be a device to induce us to discover ourselves," whispered Careless.
After a pause the whistle was repeated, and somewhat more loudly.
"I will go a little lower down and endeavour to make out who it is," said Careless.
While he was cautiously descending, a voice, which both recognised, called out:
"'Tis I, William Penderel!"
"Heaven grant he has brought us something to eat!" exclaimed the king. "Go down to him quickly, Will."
On emerging from the foliage, Careless beheld William Penderel at the foot of the tree, having a basket in his hand and a cushion under his arm.
"Never wert thou more welcome, friend William," criedCareless, enchanted at the sight. "His majesty is well-nigh famished, and I should have been forced to come to thee for food hadst thou not made thy appearance."
"You must not quit the tree on any consideration," returned William. "Boscobel is surrounded by the enemy. I have been obliged to steal hither by a path known only to myself, and even then I ran the greatest risk. Do not come down, I pray your honour," he added, seeing that Careless, who was standing on the lowest bough, was about to descend. "I will hand the basket up to you."
The feat would have been difficult to any man of less gigantic stature than William Penderel, but was easily accomplished by him.
Just as Careless obtained possession of the basket, the king appeared above his head.
"Here is your majesty's breakfast," cried Careless, gleefully.
"And here is a cushion for your majesty to sit upon while breakfasting," said William, handing it up.
"Truly, thou art most thoughtful, William," said the king. "I cannot thank thee sufficiently."
"I must not remain here longer now," said the forester. "I will return when I can do so with safety. Meantime, I counsel your majesty to keep close hidden."
"Answer me one question before you go, William," said Charles. "Has the house been searched?"
"No, sire," he replied. "But it is strictly watched by the rebel soldiers. Apparently, they are waiting for their leader. I must get back before he arrives!"
With this he departed.
The king and Careless then took the basket to the upper part of the tree, and arranged the cushion between the forked branches, so that it formed a very comfortable seat.
Evidently replenished by Dame Joan, the basket contained all that could be desired for a substantial meal—cold meat, a cold pie, bread, butter, and cheese, with wooden platters, wooden spoons, horn cups, and every other requisite, including a couple of white napkins. Nor was a flask of canary omitted.
"Heaven bless that thoughtful Dame Joan! How much we owe her!" cried Charles, as he spread a napkin on his knee. "Give me some of that pie, Will, and take good care you let none fall while cutting it."
"Fear me not, sire," said Careless, performing the office of carver very dexterously, all things considered, and handing a large piece of pigeon-pie to the king.
He then set to work himself, and with such goodwill that in a marvellously short space of time the dish was completely emptied. The horn cups were then filled, and a fresh attack was made onthe cold meat, and continued stoutly for some time, till both parties were obliged to give in. Careless, however, held out longer than his royal master.
Everything being replaced in the basket, it was hung upon a branch, to be again applied to in case of need. The pangs of hunger, from which he had been suffering rather sharply for the last few hours, being now appeased, Charles began to feel extremely drowsy, and at length, being quite unable to resist the strong inclination to slumber, he reclined his head on Careless's lap, and almost instantly dropped asleep.
The chief anxiety of the faithful attendant was to prevent his royal master from falling, but there was little chance of such an accident, for the king never moved. The real risk was lest Careless himself should follow his majesty's example, for he was oppressed by drowsiness in an equal degree, but by a great effort he conquered the feeling.
Thus things continued for some time, during which Careless never altered his position for fear of disturbing the slumbering monarch. But Charles was not easily awakened, as will presently appear.
On a sudden, Careless was roused from the dreamy state of mind in which he was lost by a cry for help, and as he happened to be thinking of Jasper at the moment, he naturally concluded that the cry must proceed from the page.
In another moment he became convinced that his supposition was correct. This was not the first time he had heard that voice in distress, though under far different circumstances from the present. He could not look out from his place of concealment to ascertain the cause of the outcries, but it seemed to him that the luckless page was flying from a patrol, and in imminent danger of being captured. Had it been possible he would have flown to the youth's assistance, but he could not quit his position. His anxiety almost amounted to torture, but he was obliged to bear it.
Charles slept on soundly as ever.
Listening intently, Careless heard the shouts of the troopers as they galloped among the trees, and he again heard Jasper's voice, but faint and far off. Then it ceased altogether. Was the fugitive captured? As Careless could still hear the fierce shouts of the pursuers he hoped not. But he was left in a state of agonising suspense, for very soon the shouts of the troopers ceased also.
Still the king moved not, but continued buried in sleep for some time longer. At last he roused himself, but it took him some minutes to completely shake off his lethargy.
"I have had a strange dream, Will—a kind of nightmare," he said. "Methought that pretty page, Jasper, was calling out for help, and neither of us could stir."
"'Twas no dream, sire," replied Careless. "The circumstance actually occurred. I was awake, and heard the cries. They pierced my heart."
"Why did you not answer them?"
"My duty to your majesty forbade me. I would not even waken you—for I well knew what your chivalrous impulse would have suggested."
"And you allowed him to be captured?—ha!"
"I trust he escaped—but I cannot say. I am now right glad that I did not wake your majesty. 'Twas a hard matter to keep quiet I will frankly confess, but I could not desert my post. Duty before everything."
The king smiled, and patted his shoulder. "Thou art ever faithful," he said.
HOW COLONEL JAMES HALTED BENEATH THE OAK.
Nothingmore passed between them for some time, and Charles seemed to be once more yielding to lethargic feelings, when he was effectually aroused by the trampling of horse. Evidently a small detachment of troopers was coming that way, and a halt took place beneath the oak. No sooner did the voice of their leader reach Careless's ears, than he remarked in a whisper to the king, "Tis Colonel James, sire."
"We must not quit this forest empty-handed," said James. "Unless the knave and his wife who have care of Boscobel have deceived me, Charles Stuart is not concealed there. Neither is he at either of those houses of abomination, White Ladies, or Black Ladies. Yet I am well assured he is hereabouts, and have him I will; for what answer shall I give to the Lord General, if the head of the malignants be suffered to escape. Search, then, most carefully. Let men be posted at various points, and if any one be found in the forest—woodman or not—compel him to give an account of himself, and if he fails to do so satisfactorily, arrest him."
"We did discover a youth in the forest, but being exceeding fleet of foot, he escaped us," remarked one of the soldiers.
"How? escaped!" cried Colonel James, angrily. "It might have been Charles Stuart himself. Why did you not shoot him, Madmannah?"
"It was not Charles Stuart, colonel," replied the soldier. "'Twas a mere stripling. We were close upon his heels when hedisappeared suddenly from our sight—nor could we find him again."
"Ye are not half quick enough," said Colonel James, sternly. "In which direction did the youth run?"
"Towards Boscobel House, colonel," replied another of the soldiers. "But he could not have gained the house."
"Ye have done your work negligently," said James, still more sternly.
"The reproof is unmerited, colonel," said Madmannah. "We have shown no lack of zeal."
"Find me Charles Stuart, and I will retract what I have said. But I repeat, ye have done your work imperfectly. I will have every tree in the forest searched wherein a man might be hidden, and I will begin with this oak."
It will be readily supposed that the determination thus expressed by Colonel James caused great alarm to Charles and his companion, but their uneasiness increased when the Republican leader continued in an authoritative voice:
"Thou art active, Ezra. Dismount at once, and climb the tree."
The king and Careless gave themselves up for lost. There seemed to be no possibility of escape. But they were quickly relieved by Ezra's response to the order.
"No use in searching this oak, colonel."
"No use, sayst thou?"
"None, colonel. I have already discharged my caliver into the tree."
"That is true," said the other soldiers.
"Nay, if that be so, 'twere a waste of time to climb the tree," said James. "We will look out for another, further on."
"Shall we fire a volley into the tree, colonel, to make sure?" asked another of the soldiers.
"'Tis needless," replied James. "March!"