Boscobel; or, the royal oak: A tale of the year 1651
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CHAPTER XXII.
HOW THEY DINED AT THE GEORGE AT MERE; AND HOW THE HOST RELATED HISDREAM.
On arriving at Mere, they alighted at the George, which turned outquite as comfortable as it had been represented. Dick Cheverel, thehost, a stout, good-humoured personage, sat at the head of the table,chatting with them very cheerfully.
The king took a place near the bottom of the table, but Juliana satbeside the host, who was very attentive to her. During a pause, ColonelWyndham inquired of Cheverel if he had any news?
"Little that I care to relate," replied Dick. "Since the disaster atWorcester, I have heard nothing that gives me satisfaction. Fifteenhundred men have been shipped to Jersey and Guernsey to subjugate thosefaithful islands, but I am told that the men of Westminster are ingreat perplexity, for they cannot conceive what has become of the king.
"Most likely his majesty is in London and in disguise," remarkedColonel Philips.
"That is the general opinion, but it is not mine," said Dick. "Severalhouses, I understand, have been searched; but the searchers were notlikely to find him."
"Why do you feel so confident on the point?" asked Juliana.
"Because I firmly believe he is in France," replied Dick. "At the verymoment we are now talking of him, I am persuaded he is at the greatpalace of the Louvre, seated between his mother, Henrietta Maria, Queenof England, and his royal brother the Duke of York."
"Would to heaven it were true!" exclaimed Juliana.
"It must be true, for I have dreamed it thrice," said Dick.
"Is that all your authority?" cried Juliana, smiling.
"What better authority would you have, fair mistress?" he rejoined."I'll tell you a singular thing. A rebel officer who fought atWorcester came to the George the day before yesterday, and said tome, 'I've had a remarkable dream, landlord, and it quite haunts me.I've dreamt that Charles Stuart is concealed in a house at Trent, inSomerset. I should know the house,' he continued, 'for it has a greatpatch of trees near it.'"
"That was very odd!" exclaimed Juliana.
"So I told him, and the idiot might have gone to Trent, if I hadnot recounted my thrice-repeated dream to him. When he had heard myrelation he gave up all intention of searching for the king."
Everybody laughed, but the host maintained a grave face.
"You are a sly fellow, Dick," exclaimed Colonel Wyndham.
When his services were no longer required at the upper end of thetable, the host came and sat down by the king. Filling a couple ofglasses to the brim with sack, he said:
"Are you a friend to C?sar?"
"Ay, that I am," replied Charles. "As much C?sar's friend as thou art."
"Then here's a health to King Charles!" cried the loyal host, rising ashe spoke. "If his majesty is not on the other side of the water, andsafe from his enemies, let us hope he soon will be!"
The toast was enthusiastically drunk by all the gentlemen present, whorose at the bidding of the host.
Shortly afterwards the party again rose, but this time it was to taketheir departure, for though the wine was very good they could not makea long sitting.
After assisting Juliana to her seat on the pillion, Dick said to theking, in a low voice:
"Forgive me, sire, if I have presumed too much. I knew you from thefirst, and could not repress my feelings. May my dream soon become areality!"
While riding out of Mere, they gazed at the fine old church with itslofty tower, at the ancient market-house, and at the lofty mound onwhich were some vestiges of a castle, built in the reign of Henry III.When they had quitted the little town, the most striking object was aprecipitous hill, about two miles distant, known as Whitesheet Camp.
After crossing a wild and bleak waste full of earthworks, they reachedHindon, and then passed over downs, guarded by hills crowned by campsthrough Chilmark and Great Teffont, and through the old forest ofGrovely, to Wishford.
From Grovely Hill, on which are the remains of an ancient British town,they obtained a fine view of Salisbury Plain, with the lofty spire ofthe cathedral in the distance. Evening was coming on as they took theirway across part of the plain, and the numerous barrows near which theyrode, tinged by the radiance of the declining sun, had a very strikingeffect. But as soon as the sun had set, the picture became cold andgrey, awakening a train of melancholy thoughts. The air, likewise,began to feel cold, so they quickened their pace, and soon afterwardsarrived at their destination.