CHAPTER VII
FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH
ASHLEY CASTLE presented its wonted appearance as my father and Iapproached it on our return journey.
The banner of the Markhams still proudly floated over the tower, thedrawbridge was still guarded by a pikeman in the Markham livery, andthe smoke still floated upwards from the kitchen chimneys in the keenautumnal air.
"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed my father, raising his plumed hat, andI knew that a great load had been lifted from his mind--a burdenwhich I felt hardly less deeply than did he.
The warm-hearted greeting over, we eagerly asked for tidingsconcerning the renegade, Captain Chaloner, but on this matter wecould not obtain any information, for, although it was known that therebel captain had had the castle bestowed upon him by the Parliament,he had taken no active steps to secure possession of it.
Relying on the loyal support of his tenantry, my father knew thatthere was little chance of a surprise, yet he in no wise relaxed hisvigilance.
Every available firearm was carefully examined, barrels of powderbought and stored in the capacious cellars, while piles of shot wereplaced in readiness by the side of the small pieces of ordnance onthe leads of the hall. Vast quantities of imperishable provisionswere collected, and an additional well was sunk within the innercourtyard, so that our water supply was assured.
Yet our preparations were seemingly in vain. Many months passed, andstill no rebel Chaloner appeared to press his claim, while my father,owing to his increasing infirmities, was compelled, much against hiswill, to remain at home instead of giving his services to His Majestyin the field.
Colonel Firestone, however, had taken part in the affairs ofChalgrove Field and Newbury, and from time to time news came from himconcerning the progress of the fearful civil war.
At length, in the month of May, 1644, the colonel himself arrived atAshley Castle with the news that he was on his way, by Royal command,to take part in the operations in the west against the rebels underthe Earl of Essex, and, at the colonel's suggestion, my fatherconsented to let me go with him, greatly to my satisfaction.
Two years had made a great difference in my appearance. Although butvery little taller, I had increased in girth, being broad-chested andfull-limbed, while few would believe that I was but seventeen yearsof age. Thanks to clean-living and plenty of exercise in martial andopen-air pursuits, I was strong, muscular, and active, yet withal(though I say it) I was of sound judgment, quick to act, and blessedwith no small stock of intelligence.
It was a long journey by way of Winchester, Salisbury, and Exeter,but with little adventure we crossed the Tamar at a place calledCalstock, and reached the Duchy of Cornwall.
It was nearly night when we reached this village, a collection ofstone-built cottages rising in tiers from the west side of the river,which here describes a magnificent curve between lofty banks oftree-clad hills.
Our arrival caused no little stir amongst the villagers, for armedmen were comparatively scarce in the neighbourhood, as the troops ofeither party, who were continually pouring into the Duchy, usuallyentered by the road betwixt Tavistock and Callington, or else betweenPlymouth and Saltash.
"Is there a decent and well-conducted inn hereabouts?" asked mycompanion, addressing a red-haired fellow in a grey smock.
"What do 'ee say?" replied the countryman, scratching his poll inobvious perplexity.
"An inn, dolt! An inn."
"There be one up yonder," said the man in a singsong voice. "'E becalled the King's 'Ead, if 'ee be for the King, and the StamfordArms, if 'ee be for the Parleymun. It be no worry to we, anyway."
"Let's try the King's Head," I remarked. "Though 'tis to be hopedthat those who dub it after the Earl of Stamford may be not present."
"So be it," replied my companion, and riding up to the door of theinn, we dismounted and knocked.
From within came the sound of many voices engaged in livelyconversation, and, finding that our summons was unanswered, Firestonepushed open the door and entered.
At the end of a stone passage was another door, partly opened, and toour surprise a well-known voice was heard:
"This, gentlemen, fully demonstrates the sovereign virtues possessedby my inimitable powder, of which I am agreeable to sell smallportions at the price of one penny--one penny only, I say. Eachportion capable of acting on four ounces of lead. 'Tis only in thegoodness of my heart that I offer this priceless powder to HisMajesty's subjects, and----"
"'Tis the arrogant rogue who bested us at Winchester!" I whispered.
"Ay! I knew it the moment I heard his voice. Listen."
"I ask no man to buy," continued the huckster. "'Tis to be regardedas a gift--no, sir, it must not be used under an hour, being but thisevening made up--as a gift, I repeat; but to prevent an injudiciousdistribution, I am compelled to ask but one penny for this smallquantity. I have demonstrated its powers to you, as I have donebefore princes of the blood, knights and gentlemen in London, York,Lincoln, Norwich, Exeter----"
"And Winchester, you rogue!" exclaimed the colonel, bursting into theroom. "Where are our fifty pounds in gold?"
The self-styled merchant of Southampton was terrified at the sight ofour sudden appearance. His knees smote together, his jaw dropped, andhis lank, raven hair almost stood upright.
Gripping his shoulder, I forced him against the wall, and, thrustingback his sleeve, we discovered a cube of lead similar in shape to theone of silver which still lay on the table. Seeing the deception, thecrowd, who had regarded us with little favour, began to castimprecations on the impostor.
"We'll have this on account," said Colonel Firestone, pocketing thesilver. "And now turn out his purse."
Eleven pounds in gold and over a pound in silver and copper wereshaken out on the table, the wretched man making no resistance.
"Thirty-eight pounds to the had. What say you, sirrah?" demanded thecolonel sternly. "Is it the hangman at Bodmin, where perchancethou'lt be cropped by the ears and branded on the face, and finish bydangling at the end of a stout hempen rope? What say you, I repeat?"
The wretch had sunk on his knees, mumbling incoherently. Suddenly hewhipped out a long knife from the folds of his boot and lungedviciously, like a cornered rat, at the colonel. But ere the blowstruck home I kicked the weapon from his grasp, sending it spinningto the low, raftered ceiling, where it stuck and vibrated with theforce of its ascent.
"Wouldst add attempted murder to the list of your accomplishments?"asked Firestone contemptuously. "'Tis a pity we cannot waste time tosee thee spinning round at the end of a halter, but we must needstake the law into our own hands. Canst swim?"
The man shook his head.
"Then up with him and cast him into the river," continued mycompanion, addressing the surrounding throng.
Eager hands seized the wretched purveyor of quack powders and borehim towards the river, Firestone and I following at the heels of thecrowd.
"Shall us tie a stoane round the neck of he?" asked one of thevillagers.
"Hither, my friend," replied Firestone, and as the man came nearer hecontinued in a low voice, inaudible to the miserable rogue: "We donot mean to kill the man, Get ready a rope to throw to him. And canstswim?"
"Ay," replied the villager. "Only the other day they gave I a jar o'small beer for swimmin' from Morwell'm----"
"Then I'll give you another if you have to go in and fetch him out;but don't go in, mind you, unless I give you word."
At the edge of the river was a small stone quay, below which thewater flowed gently, only a few feet from the top of the wharf, itbeing nearly high tide. It was nearly dark, but the other bank wasjust discernible.
The men who had been cheated out of their hard-earned spending moneyentered into the punishment of the rascal with a will. Seized by thearms and legs by half a dozen lusty quarrymen, the terrified roguewas swung to and fro for a few seconds, his screams for mercy addingto the zest of his tormentors. Then, to the accompaniment of a loudshout, the men hur
led him far into the river, where he disappearedwith a heavy splash.
"He must be dead. He sank like a stone," I exclaimed, after whatseemed to me a long interval.
"We've overdone it," shouted the colonel excitedly. "Quick, you;after him. Perchance he was winded by the fall," he added to the manwho had boasted of his swimming prowess.
But before the man could throw off his heavy boots, the lank blackhair of the Southampton merchant--as he termed himself, thoughfalsely, as we knew too well--appeared above the surface, half-wayacross the stream, and with astonishing swiftness he struck out forthe opposite shore.
"Why, the villain has cheated us again," I exclaimed. "See, he swimswell."
"Try him with your pistols, sir," said the host of the inn.
"Nay, let him go, for he deserves it by his cunning," repliedFirestone, and in silence we saw his dim outline draw itself from thewater, and, rat-like, slink to cover in the shelter of the woods.
We returned to the inn, where Colonel Firestone repaid the men whohad been duped by the rascal's ingenuity, out of the remaining money,retaining the leather purse as a trophy of the encounter, while ourpopularity was further assured by our host being ordered to broach abarrel of old ale at our expense, and till late in the night thesimple countrymen sat carousing, singing quaint songs in theirstrange dialect, in blissful disregard of the fact that nearly thewhole kingdom was torn asunder by civil war.
Next morning we were up betimes, and amid the cheers of thevillagers, who had gathered to wish us good-speed, we resumed ourjourney westward, intending to reach Tregetty Castle, the Granvilles'home, before sunset.
Barely had we gone a couple of miles when the road, which was littlebetter than a narrow lane, descended abruptly into a deep and darkvalley, the pine trees throwing a sombre shade over our path.
Suddenly three horsemen appeared, reining in their horses to bar ourpath. There was no mistaking their intentions, and by their buffcoats, iron caps, and clean-shaven visages we knew them to beRoundheads.
"Straight at them!" exclaimed Firestone, drawing sword and pistol,while I followed his example; but ere we could close, their numberswere increased by nearly a score.
Wheeling our horses, we essayed flight, but at the same moment aswarm of dismounted men leapt from the banks in our rear. We werehopelessly trapped.
Resistance was useless, and in a moment the troopers were upon us. Wewere deprived of our weapons, and rough hands seized us, binding ourarms tightly behind our backs, while with many ribald jests at thehapless malignants they urged our horses in the same direction thatwe had been going.
But before we emerged from the valley the troopers halted, save asergeant, who disappeared by a narrow path on the left-hand side ofthe lane. In a few minutes he returned, accompanied by two of therebel officers, and with an involuntary exclamation of surprise anddismay I recognised one of them to be the traitor, Captain Chaloner.
Close behind him, his face distorted with a malevolent grin, wasanother acquaintance, Master Henry Cutler, the Southampton "merchant,"whom, but a few hours previously, we had seen swimming across theTamar.
"You have them securely, I hope, sergeant?" said Chaloner, rubbinghis gloved hands in evident enjoyment.
"Safely bound, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"'Tis well. Now, sirrahs, what have you to say for yourselves?Malignants and robbers to boot, ye are arrested in the name of theParliament of England and charged with robbing with violence thisman, Henry Cutler. What have ye to say?"
"My purse! My purse!" exclaimed the huckster, producing his leatherbag from the colonel's pocket. "See, sir, this proves my story. Mypapers are still in it."
"They are guilty beyond doubt," replied Chaloner, "e'en though theyspeak not a word. Hi! Bring hither the halters!" he shouted to atrooper.
Without delay a noose was placed round each of our necks, whileanother trooper climbed to the lowermost branch of a pine tree thatovergrew the road.
After one or two attempts he caught the ends of the ropes, passedthem over the bough, and let the free end fall to the ground. Five orsix men grasped each rope and awaited the signal to haul us, kickingand struggling in our death agonies, from the backs of our horses.
In those awful moments my senses were completely numbed. I was dimlyconscious only of the noise of the trickling stream and the notes ofthe feathered songsters overhead. Even this ignominious ending bybeing hanged did not seem to trouble me, for I understood in ameasure the meaning of the words, "The bitterness of death is past."What I could not quite understand was the fact that our executionersdelayed their work.
Then, above the babbling of the stream, I heard the sound of horsesrapidly approaching, and, the mist clearing before our eyes, I saw aknot of Parliamentary officers gallop up.
"What's this? Who commands this troop?" demanded the senior officer,a tall, thin, yet not unpleasant-looking man, whose clear-cutfeatures were partly hidden by a heavy bristling moustache and a tuftof hair on his chin.
"I, sir, Captain Chaloner," replied that worthy, saluting with hisdrawn sword.
"Then pray explain the circumstances of this summary act; are theseprisoners of war?"
"They are malignants, murderers, and highway robbers to boot," saidChaloner.
"Nay, sir, 'tis false," interjected Colonel Firestone. "We aresoldiers of His Majesty, 'tis true, but neither murderers norhighwaymen. I look to you, sir, to protect us from the indignity ofbeing strung up without the chance of a word in our defence."
"I will go further into the matter anon," said the Roundhead officer."Captain Chaloner, where is the rendezvous of your troop?"
"At the town of Lostwithiel, sir."
"Then take your prisoners thither. I hold you responsible for theirsafety and custody. Be assured," he added, addressing us, "that youwill have a fair and impartial trial. If found guilty of robbery, onmy solemn word I'll have you strung up as a warning to others; ifnot. I must needs keep you as prisoners of war."
Chaloner again saluted as his superior and his officers rode off;then, scowling blankly with ill-concealed hatred, he ordered histroop to fall in, and, with Firestone and I still bound in theirmidst, the Roundheads set off at a trot towards their headquarters.
The Young Cavalier: A Story of the Civil Wars Page 7