CHAPTER VII.
The seasons of the year seemed to take their tone from the spirit ofthe times and the discord that was raging throughout the land. Thesummer was gloomy and full of storms. Instead of bright sunshine andsmiling skies, heavy clouds had been gathering over the heavens fromthe beginning of the year; and although every now and then a warm andsplendid day, such as that which we have described in the beginning ofthis tale, broke in upon the heavy aspect of the summer, as if toremind man of fairer and happier times, yet week after week passed intempests, rain, and gloom; and signs and portents, such as might havealarmed nations in more superstitious days, were seen in the sky, andfilled the hearts of the more timid with apprehension.
It was upon the morning of one of these sad and frowning days that atroop of horse, consisting of about a hundred and fifty men, wellarmed and mounted, took its way across a wide and somewhat barrenplain about forty miles to the north-east of Bishop's Merton,encumbered with a good deal of baggage, and escorting two or three ofthe heavy carriages of the times, in which were some six or sevenwomen. The prospect was wide and dreary, extending in a number of greylines which afforded the eye no pleasing object to rest upon, excepthere and there a little mound or tumulus bearing on its top a clump ofblack-looking trees. In the distance was a range of low wood,apparently stunted and withered by the chilling blasts which sweptover the plain; and a piece of water of some extent was seenglistening on the right, with the sandy road, along which thecavalcade took its way, winding between the mere and the wood. Nohedgerows broke the wide extent, and the ground appeared to besomewhat marshy, for numerous ditches intersected it in everydirection, and a large trench ran along on either side of the path,with here and there a small wooden bridge to cross from the sandyhighway to the green turf of the plain.
The progress of the party was not very quick, for, as we have said,the carriages were heavy, and their wheels, as well as those of thetwo or three carts and waggons, sank deep in the loose and shiftingsoil of the road. By the side of the foremost of the carriagesgenerally rode a cavalier, with whom the reader is already acquaintedunder the name of Lord Walton, and ever and anon he laid his hand uponthe heavy door, and spoke in at the window to his sister or to ArrahNeil, the latter seldom replying except by a monosyllable or a look.Annie Walton, however, conversed with him gaily and lightly; not thather heart was by any means at ease, or her bosom without itsapprehensions; but she was well aware that her brother was grieved forall the inconvenience that she suffered, and for the danger to whichshe was exposed; and, with kindly and generous feeling towards him,she made as little as possible of every annoyance on the march,concealed all the fears that she might experience, and seemedunconscious of the perils of the way. She might not, it is true,deceive her brother as to her own sensations, for he knew her well,and understood her kindness and devotion; but still it made the burdenlighter to him to hear no murmur, and to witness no terror.
From time to time, during the march of the two preceding days, some ofthe rumours which, true and false alike, always run through a countryin a state of agitation, had reached Lord Walton's party, speaking oftroops marching hither and thither in the neighbourhood. Now it was adetachment from Lord Essex's army; now it was a body of men crossingthe country, to reinforce Waller; now it was a body of militia calledout by parliamentary commissioners from the district or the countythrough which they were passing. But Lord Walton paid little attentionto these reports, having taken every necessary precaution, by throwingout several small parties in front, at the distance of about two orthree miles, to guard against surprise, and secure his onward coursetowards Coventry.
When any rumour reached him, indeed, which bore more strongly thesemblance of truth than the rest, and was corroborated by his ownknowledge of the position and designs of the various persons to whomit referred, he would ride forward to the head of the line, andconverse for a few minutes with a thin, bony, grave-looking personagein black, who bore few signs of being a military man, except his largeboots of untanned leather, his heavy steel-mounted sword, and thepistols at his saddle-bow. Thus, when they had got about half wayacross the plain, and a horseman galloped up from the right, leapingone or two narrow ditches by which it was intersected, and then, notable to cross the wider trench which separated the road from the turf,riding along by the side of the troop, and making signs to CharlesWalton that he had something to communicate, the young noblemanaccordingly reined in his horse, and suffering his party to pass on,lingered behind till they were out of ear-shot.
"Well, Master Hurst," he then asked, "what is your news? I was sorryyou would not join us; but I am glad to see you here."
"I told Langan I would follow you, my lord," replied the new-comer;"but I had to put my house in order, and sell some hay, for it does notdo to go soldiering in these times without money in one's pocket, andI had but short notice. However, my lord, you had better be on yourguard; for, as I came over the moor, I found a boy keeping sheep outthere between the wood and the water, and, wishing to know whereaboutsyou were, for I could not see you at that time----"
"You did not mention my name, I hope," said Lord Walton.
"Oh, no, my lord," answered the horseman; "I took care not to do that:I only asked if he had seen a body of soldiers, without saying horseor foot. So the boy said, 'Oh, yes; that there were five hundred andfifty lying behind the wood,' for he had counted them, seemingly--likea flock of sheep. Then I asked him how many horse there were; to whichhe replied by saying, 'Two,' and that all the rest had guns andbandoliers and steel caps, except a few, who had long pikes in theirhands."
"This seems serious," replied Lord Walton; "we must look to thisintelligence."
"There is more serious work behind, my lord," replied Hurst; "for thisnews gave me the key to what I saw myself in the morning. Thesemusketeers are not alone. They have got cavalry for their support, mylord, or I am much mistaken: not two hours ago I saw the tail of atroop going into the little village, the spire of which you can justsee rising up there. I should have taken them for your men but thatthey were coming the contrary road; so I avoided the village for fearof worse."
"Well, Hurst, ride on to the next bridge," said Lord Walton, "and thenjoin me on the road with Major Randal, whom I must consult on ourproceedings."
Thus saying, he spurred on his horse, and galloped forward to the headof the line, where, pulling up by the side of our spare friend inblack, he communicated to him all that he had just heard.
"Ah!" said Randal, in his usual dry and deliberate tone, "ah! Fivehundred and fifty musketeers--rather better, than three to one. Thatwould not matter if the ground were fair; but these ditches, theseditches! they are awkward things in the way of cavalry; if our horsescould leap them as easily as their shot, the matter would soon besettled. Does any one know what the ground is like there? They willgall us sadly if we have to expose our flank to the wood."
"I fear so, indeed," replied Lord Walton; "but perhaps, if I were topass the next bridge, take a circuit round and dislodge them, whileyou pursue your way along the road, we might contrive to get intobetter fighting ground."
"Let us see what it is like first," said Randal: "here comes yournewsmonger, my lord; we shall learn more from him. Now, master yeoman,how does the land lie about the wood? is there good room for a charge,or is it cut up like this?"
"Between the wood and the road," answered Hurst, "it is just like agridiron, with ditches enough to drain the sea."
"And behind the wood, do you know anything of that?" continued Randal.
"It is good enough there," said the horseman, divining the object ofhis question, "but you cannot get at it for the river.
"They have some good soldiers amongst them," said Randal. "Such groundwas not chosen by one of the old bottle-nosed serving-men of London."
"They must have good intelligence, too," said Lord Walton, "to fix soexactly on a point where they can best attack us. If it were not formy sister and the women, we might take their
fire in passing, and getinto the good ground beyond; but the carriages and baggage would provea sad encumbrance."
"Ah, women, women!" cried Randal, "they are the causes of all themischief in the world. However, we must dispose of them, and must takeour resolution quickly; there is no going back now, my lord, and wemust make our way forward at whatever risk. Luckily, you have broughtall the spare horses and the women's saddles; they must quit thecarriages and mount. As for the baggage, it must take its chance andbelong to the winners."
"But I cannot expose my sister," exclaimed Lord Walton, "to such anaffair as this--she can go back to the village."
"No, no," said Randal, quickly; "there is no need of that; this goodyeoman can guide her round with the rest of the women, while we makeour way forward, and do the best that we can with these gentry infront. They will not chase her if we keep on our way; but if we quitthe road, they will of course draw to their left and cut us offbetween the causeway and the water. Now, my lord, be quick; get themout and away: I will send a dozen of my men to escort them, withBarecolt at their head. 'Tis the best task for him; for, though hedoes not want courage, with women he will have room to talk, and thatis his chief occupation. He may lie, too, there, as much as he likes,and nobody will find him out. Now, master yeoman, you be guide--leadthese ladies over the moor, round by the back of that great pond, andinto the open ground above it. When you get to that mound with thetrees on it, you may halt a bit, and watch what we are about on theroad. If you see that we get the worst, put to the spur, and gallop ontill you rejoin the Coventry road, then on as fast as may be to theking, who will be in Coventry by noon to-morrow. If you see we makegood our ground, come back and join us."
"But there are horse in that village, sir," answered Hurst.
"That can't be helped," replied Randal; "we have no other chance.Besides, they may be our people as well as the enemy's.--Stay; it maybe as well to see: I will send on Barecolt, while you halt on thehill. He can play either part--swear and swagger like the mostlicentious Cavalier, or cant and pule like the most starched Puritan."
While this conversation had been taking place, the party had notceased to advance slowly along the road; but the order to halt was nowgiven, and preparations were made for carrying into execution the plandecided upon. The carriages were stopped, Miss Walton and herattendants were placed hastily upon the spare horses which had beenbrought from Bishop's Merton, and the small body under CaptainBarecolt were drawn out, and commanded to fall into the rear. AnnieWalton did all that she was told to do without a word; but she lookedin her brother's face, as he placed her on horseback, and, bendingdown her beautiful head, kissed his cheek, while a silent,irrepressible tear rose in her eye.
"Do not fear, Annie--do not, fear," said Charles Walton; "we will soonput these fellows to the rout."
But it is vain, in moments of danger and difficulty, to commendcourage to those who, by fate or situation, are doomed to inactivity;for they must still feel for those that they love, if not forthemselves; and though Miss Walton considered not for one moment thepersonal peril which she encountered, her heart beat withapprehensions for her brother, which no words could quiet or remove.Lord Walton then turned to Arrah Neil, who was already mounted, andleaning his hand on the horse's neck, he asked--"Can you manage thehorse, my poor Arrah? had you not better ride behind a trooper?"
"Oh, no," she said; "no, I can ride quite well--I remember now;" and,indeed, the manner in which she held her rein, the ease and grace withwhich she sat the horse, and the command which she had over it, thougha powerful and spirited animal, clearly showed that at some time shemust have been well accustomed to such exercise.
Lord Walton looked down with a thoughtful expression of countenance,as if there were something that puzzled him. But just at that momentMajor Randal rode up, exclaiming.--"We must lose no more time, mylord; if we halt any longer here, they may see what we are about, andact accordingly. I shall order the troop to advance, for women arealways slow, and they must come after us as they can, till they reachthe little bridge up yonder. Let the carts and carriages come first,and the women can bring up the rear. Now, mark ye, Barecolt, followthis good yeoman, with the ladies under your charge, till you reachthat little mound with the trees on the right. You can deliver yourstomach by the way of any of the wild imaginations that may fret you;but when you get to the mound you must give up talking, and, riding onto the village alone, make use of your wits, if you have any left, toascertain whether there be a troop of horse in it, and of what side."
"Alone?" said Barecolt.
"To be sure," answered Randal, with a laugh; "the man who preached inthe morning at Rochelle, and defeated the Papists in the evening, whodefended the pass in the Cevennes single-handed against a whole army,may well go on alone to reconnoitre a handful of cavalry. Besides, itwill make you careful, Master Barecolt, when you know that your ownlife depends on your own tongue."
"It has often done that," answered Barecolt. "I remember, when I wasin Spain, being attacked by some twenty banditti, and putting my backagainst a rock----"
"March!" cried Randal, interrupting him; "tell that to the girls. Itwill do to pass the time as well as any other lie;" and riding on, heled the way, while Lord Walton continued by his sister's side, till,reaching the little bridge, the good farmer, Hurst, turned off fromthe road into the meadows, followed by the young lady, her servants,and the escort.
With anxious eyes Annie Walton and Arrah Neil watched the advance ofthe larger party of horse towards the wood before them, althoughneither of them had heard the exact cause of alarm, or was aware ofwhere the danger was to be apprehended, or what was its nature. Allthey knew was, that peril lay upon the onward road; and,notwithstanding all the assiduities of Captain Barecolt, who, ridingby their side wherever the space admitted it, endeavoured to entertainthem with some of the monstrous fictions in which his imagination wasaccustomed to indulge, they listened not to his tales, they scarcelyeven heard his words, but, their eyes turned constantly to the roadthey had just quitted, pursued a path, forming with it an acute angle,which led round the back of a large piece of water that lay gleamingbefore them.
Once or twice they had to dismount, and lead their horses over thelittle wooden bridges which crossed the ditches intersecting theplain; and more than once, where these were so insecure as to give wayunder the horses' feet, they were forced to quit their direct line,and take a circuit. Nevertheless, as they cantered quickly over theturf between, they had reached the little tree-covered knoll which hadbeen pointed out as their halting-place, before the troop which waspursuing the high-road had arrived at the spot where the low wood wehave mentioned skirted the way.
That wood did not, indeed, approach close to the road, but lay at thedistance of from a hundred to a hundred and fifty yards on the left,extending parallel with it for nearly a quarter of a mile, and havinga green meadow, and the continuation of the broad trench we havementioned between. A river of some width, flowing from the right,crossed the highway under a bridge of two arches, at a short distancefrom the wood; and at the moment that Miss Walton and her companionsreached the mound, the head of her brother's troop was about threehundred yards from this bridge.
Knowing well that Major Randal was not a man to be trifled with,Captain Barecolt, as soon as they had arrived at the appointed place,took a flowery and ceremonious leave of Miss Walton, and rode ontowards the village of which they had now a better view than before.The young lady's eyes, however, were still fixed upon her brother'stroop, as she remained half-way up the little mound, with her horseturned towards the road and her maids behind, Arrah Neil upon her lefthand, and the small party of troopers a little in advance.
They had continued this for some four or five minutes in breathlessexpectation of what was to come next, when they perceived the troopbrought to a sudden halt, and an apparent consultation take place atthe head of the little column. At that moment Annie Walton heard oneof the troopers just before her say aloud--"They have barricaded thebridge, that's c
lear enough."
"Good God!" she exclaimed; "what will they do?"
But the man, although he heard her words, only turned his head overhis shoulder to give her a look, without making any reply.
"There is a little path, lady," said one of the maids, who, placedhigher up the hill, saw more distinctly the ground beneath--"there isa little path down from the side of the bridge into the meadows below:if they were to take that they could get out of the way of the wood,and I should think could cross the river, for it spreads out there sowide it must be shallow."
"They do not see it," said Annie Walton; "they do not see it for thebank."
Almost as she spoke a considerable body of foot drew out from thewood, and a party of about a hundred men running forward, drew up inline close to the bridge, and opened a fire of musketry upon the smalltroop of cavalry which occupied the road. Several horses at the headof the line were seen to plunge violently, and one fell with itsrider. The next instant the whole were in motion, a charge was madeupon the bridge, and for a few moments all was confusion and disarray,in which they could only see that the Cavaliers had recourse to theirpistols, and were endeavouring apparently to force the barricade.
"Oh! the path, the path!" cried Annie Walton. "If any man will rideand tell them of the path, and that they can ford the river below, Iwill give him a hundred crowns."
One of the troopers was instantly dashing forward, but the man who hadbeen left in command called him back, saying that they had beenordered to remain there, and must obey. By this time the charge hadbeen repulsed, and the Cavaliers were retreating under a heavy fire insome disarray. They formed again with great rapidity, however, behindthe waggons and carriages.
Miss Walton remonstrated against the recal of her messenger; butwithout waiting to hear the reply, Arrah Neil exclaimed--"I will go,dear lady; I will go! and shaking her rein, she put the horse to itsspeed, and darted forward before any one could stop her.
"I will go, too!" cried Annie Walton. "Why should she risk her life,and a sister fear?" and thus saying, she struck her horse with a whipand followed. In a moment, without uttering a word, the stout yeoman,Hurst, was by the lady's side; but Arrah Neil outsped them both, andand rode direct for the path she had observed. Without fear, withoutpause, the devoted girl rode on, although as soon as ever she wasperceived from the bridge the shots began to drop around her, for herobject was instantly divined, and no consideration for her sexrestrained the soldiery.
"This way, lady, this way!" cried Hurst, turning to the left; "we canspeak to them over the dike, and we shall be farther from the fire."
They were now within a few hundred yards of Lord Walton's party, andhe was seen at the head of the troop gesticulating vehemently to hissister to keep back.
"Ride away, my dear! ride away!" cried Hurst, "I will go on!" but atthat moment a shot struck his charger, and horse and rider went downtogether. Miss Walton, however, rode forward, seeing the good yeomanstruggling up; and Arrah Neil, too, pursued her way, reached thebridge, dashed up the path, entered the road, and, in the midst of allthe fire, galloped on till, within ten yards of the carriages, a ballstruck the animal in the haunches, and he reared violently with thepain. She still kept her seat, however, till Lord Walton, spurringforward, seized the bridle and caught her in his arms, just as thehorse fell, and, struggling in the agonies of death, rolled over intothe dike.
"Good God! what is it?" exclaimed Charles Walton, bearing her backbehind the waggons. "Annie, Annie, ride away!" he shouted to hissister; "if you love me, ride away!"
"There is a path down by the bridge; the river is fordable below!"exclaimed Arrah Neil; "there are no dykes beyond the stream. All isclear on that side."
"Look, look, Charles!" cried Miss Walton, pointing with her hand,"there is a body of cavalry drawing out from the village, and some oneriding at full speed towards our people on the hill."
"Friends, on my life!" cried Major Randal. "Now, fair aid-de-camp,gallop round there to the right, and keep out of fire. Tell yourpeople to charge the Roundheads in the front, while those from thevillage take them on the flank, and we do the best we can on theright. What was that you said, pretty maid?" he continued, addressingArrah Neil; "a path down by the bridge--the stream fordable?"
"Ride-away, Annie! ride away!" cried Lord Walton; "more to the right!more to the right!"
"We must push forward the carriages and carts," said Major Randal;"they will give us some shelter. Where this girl came up, there can wego down."
"I saw the path quite clear," said one of the men.
But without more words the new plan proposed was immediately followed;the carts, drawn up two abreast, were pushed forward towards thebridge by the main strength of the dismounted troopers, for the horseshad become unmanageable, and the traces had been cut; and undershelter of these and of the carriages, which formed a line on theleft, the troop advanced in good order to the bridge, notwithstandingall the efforts of the musketeers.
In the mean while, Annie Walton took her way back towards the hill,beckoning to the yeoman, Hurst, who had by this time freed himselffrom his horse; but he, with that sort of passive bravery which is socharacteristic of the English peasant, continued deliberately tounbuckle the girths of his saddle (about which, it appearedafterwards, all his stock was stowed away in various bags andcontrivances), and made not the slightest effort to get out ofmusket-shot till he got the whole upon his back, after which hetrudged away towards the hill, only injured by one ball which grazedhis arm.
Losing no time by the way, Miss Walton soon rejoined the party oftroopers at the knoll, and was giving them the order of Major Randal,when Barecolt himself came up at full speed, exclaiming--
"Great news! great news! There is the Earl of Beverley with twohundred horse, ready to charge the Roundheads in the flank."
"We have Major Randal's orders to charge them in front," said thesergeant.
"Stay, stay!" cried Barecolt; "wait a minute, wait a minute and thenthe man who does not kill his five of the enemy should never sit downwith a gentleman to dinner again. Steady, my men, steady; look to yourpistols; have ready your spurs. As soon as the earl has crossed theroad I give the word."
"See, see!" cried Annie Walton, "they have got down into themeadow--they are fording the stream--see what a fire the enemy arekeeping up upon them. Oh! charge, charge, for God's sake, and helpthem!"
"Madam, I always obey a lady," said Barecolt with a low bow, at thesame time raising the blade of his sword to his lips and kissing it."She is the best commanding officer in the world. Now!--upon them!charge and at them!" and with these words he led his little troopforward with an air of gallantry and determination which went far tojustify the gasconades in which he indulged.
The ford, though somewhat deep, was smooth and easy, but still itexposed the troop of Cavaliers to a terrible fire of musketry from thebridge; and Annie Walton, left alone with her women on the hill, sawwith a sinking heart flash after flash run along the road, whilst thethick white smoke was wafted by the wind over her brother's party,rendering the figures indistinct, and concealing their movements insome degree from her eyes. A moment after, however, she saw two orthree horsemen break out of the clouds and gallop on for severalhundred yards into the meadows, then followed a greater number, andshe could hear shouts and calls, in the midst of which she thought shedistinguished her brother's voice; and then she saw the troopers haltand form again in line, while Barecolt, with his little party, boresteadily on at a quick pace somewhat to the right; and a much largerbody of cavalry, which seemed to have taken a circuit from the villagebehind some hedgerows that skirted the edge of the plain appearedadvancing rapidly on the left of the musketeers, and occupying thewhole space between the wood and the high-road.
There was now a momentary pause, the firing ceased, the troop of LordWalton and Major Randal remained still, the smoke cleared in somedegree away, and Annie asked herself, "What next?"
The moment, however, that Barecolt came on a line with the rest, theshr
ill blast of a trumpet was heard from the two larger bodies ofhorse; all were again in movement; and, galloping forward towards thepoint occupied by the musketeers, the three parties of royalistscharged headlong down upon them, while once more the bright flash ofthe fire-arms ran along the line of the road, and the cloud of smokeagain rolled over the combatants.
It was no longer to be repulsed that the Cavaliers now charged. Forfull ten minutes, the eyes of the watchers on the hill could perceivenothing but one struggling and confused mass in the midst of the dimwhite cloud, with the frequent flashes of the guns, and every now andthen a party of two or three becoming more apparent, and then plungingagain into the midst of the _m?l?e_. At the same time the frequentreports of the musketry and the long-continued blasts of the trumpet,mingled with shouts and cries, were borne by the wind to the ear,showing that the fight was continued with desperate determination oneach side; and Annie Walton could restrain her anxiety no longer, butmoved slowly forward towards the scene of combat.
Before she had advanced many yards, a horse without a rider rushedacross the road and galloped over the meadows towards her--paused,turned round, and with elevated head and expanded nostrils gazedtowards the place from which he came--then with a wild neigh brokeaway again, and rushed across the plain. In another instant, three orfour men on foot, with muskets in their hands, were seen running atfull speed, and Miss Walton checked her horse, fearing that they mightcome near her; but they made direct for one of the ditches we havementioned, and jumping in, seemed to couch down for concealment.
"They have won the day," cried Annie Walton, and turning to her women,who had followed somewhat slowly, she repeated, "The Cavaliers havewon the day. God grant it may be without great loss!" and at thethought of what might be her brother's fate in that fierce fight, herheart sank with that dread which we all feel when the veil whichalways hangs more or less over the future, is brought nearer to oureyes, so as to render our contemplation even of the present dim andindistinct.
A larger party of foot, consisting of perhaps twenty or thirty men,was then seen hurrying along the road; but close upon them came a bodyof cavalry, and in a moment they were dispersed and flying over theplain. Almost at the same time, the heavy mass of horse and infantrywhich had so long remained mingled together near the bridge, seemed toexplode like a shell, parties of foot and horsemen scattering here andthere in every direction; and the terrible scene of a rout and pursuitnow took place--the musketeers in general casting down their arms anddying, while the Cavaliers followed them here and there over theplain, and put them to the sword on the least show of resistance.
In the midst of all this disarray and confusion, a group of sometwenty or thirty horsemen were seen gathered round a small flag uponthe highest part of the road near the bridge; and after a brief pause,during which they remained perfectly still and motionless, the loudand peculiar trumpet-call--known in those days as the recal to thestandard--came shrill but musical upon the air; and the next instantfour or five horsemen separated themselves from the party, and rode upat an easy canter towards the wooded knoll.
Annie Walton gazed eagerly, and recognising her brother's form, afterone moment of brief anxiety rode on to meet him with her heart atease. Lord Walton pushed forward his horse before the rest, andwheeling it by her side, pressed her hand in his, murmuring, "Mydearest Annie! my sweet sister! you have been sadly terrified, I fear,but yet you have shown yourself a soldier's child."
"Oh, Charles, Charles! you are wounded!" cried Annie, looking in hisface, which was bleeding, and at a gory scarf which was round his leftarm.
"Nothing, nothing!" replied her brother. "Men will have scratches whenthey fight with wild beasts, Annie; and these Roundheads have shownthemselves as fierce and intractable as wolves or lions. They foughtgallantly, however, it must be owned, and have made us pay dearly forour success."
"I fear so, indeed, Charles," cried Miss Walton. "I am sure it must beso. But poor Arrah Neil--is she safe?"
"Oh yes, thank God!" replied Lord Walton. "I sent just now to thecoach in which I had placed her, to make sure she was uninjured. Imust not blame her rashness, my Annie, nor yours either, for it hasbeen the means of saving us; but it was a terrible risk, my dear girl,and your escape is a miracle."
"And good Major Randal?" asked Annie, willing to change the subject.
"He is safe too," replied Lord Walton, "and without a scratch, thoughnever man exposed himself more. But here comes another friend whom youwill be glad to see, and to whom we owe all our success."
"Oh, Sir Francis Clare!" exclaimed Miss Walton, a glow of pleasurerising in her cheek; "I am most happy to see you."
"Nay, not Sir Francis Clare either," cried her brother, "but my oldestand truest friend, the Earl of Beverley."
"Nay," said Annie, with a smile, "it was not fair of you, my lord, togive me a false name the other day. I half intend to punish you bytreating you as a stranger still. Had you told me it was LordBeverley, I should not have said that I never heard my brother mentionyou, for I can assure you, in former days, his letters were full of noone else. However, there is my hand--I forgive you, trusting with alla woman's foolish confidence that you had some good reason forcheating me."
"I will never cheat you more, dear lady," replied Lord Beverley,taking her hand and raising it to his lips; "but in such times asthese it is sometimes needful to seem not what we are, and these_noms-de-guerre_ when once assumed should be kept up to every one. Ihad to ride near two hundred miles across a disturbed country wherethe name of Francis Clare might pass unquestioned, when that ofBeverley might have soon found me a lodging in the Tower. Walton saidit was a rash act of mine to risk such an expedition at all; but Ihave just heard from him that I am not the only rash person wherethere is a good cause and a great object to be gained."
"Nay, will you scold me too?" rejoined Miss Walton, laughing; "if so,I will hold no further conversation with you. Yet, my good lord, tosay truth, I take less blame to myself for what I did than for notdoing it at once. To see the poor girl, Arrah Neil, willing to riskher life to serve my brother, shamed me, to think that she shouldencounter danger alone."
"But you might have sent one of the men, dear Annie," said LordWalton: "it was a soldier's, not a lady's task to carry suchintelligence."
"But they would not go," replied Annie Walton; and as they rode backtowards the high-road, she explained to her brother and his friend thecircumstances under which she had acted.
For a minute or two the conversation was as gay and cheerful as agreat success just obtained, a great deliverance just achieved, couldrender it. Lord Beverley explained to his fair companion, that havinglearned that morning on entering the neighbouring village with a bodyof two hundred horse, which he had raised for the service of the king,that a regiment of parliamentary musketeers were lying concealed atthe back of the wood, and supposing that their ambush was directedagainst himself, he had determined to remain in the place, and defendit, should need be, against them; but that when he found the passageof Lord Walton's troop was opposed, and his friend in danger, he hadinstantly called his men to the saddle, and advanced to support him.Lord Walton, too, related many of those actions which in such scenesof strife are always crowded into the space of a few minutes; and muchpraise did he bestow upon the gallant determination of Major Randaland his troop, and also upon the steadiness and courage displayed byhis own tenantry and adherents. Captain Barecolt himself had his fullshare of commendation.
"I had thought," said Charles Walton, "from his ridiculous bravadoesduring the last two days, that the man must be at least a coward,although Randal is not one to suffer such an animal near him; but itproved quite the contrary; for I saw his long body constantly in thethick of the _m?l?e_, and his heavy sword cutting right and left atthe steel caps of the musketeers, over the very muzzles of theirguns."
As they approached nearer to the scene of conflict, however, thesights which Miss Walton witnessed--the dead, the dying, the wounded,the road stained with deep pools of
blood, and the sounds that met herear--the groan of anguish, the sad complaint, the cry for water andfor help--blotted out all memory of their success; and with ashuddering frame and a sad heart she followed her brother to the spotwhere Major Randal was sitting by his cornet, on the parapet of thebridge, receiving accounts from the different troopers as they camein, of the prisoners taken from the enemy, and the killed and woundedon their own part, while ever and anon a mounted trumpeter by his sideblew a loud, long blast, to call the parties from the pursuit.
"Ah, Miss Walton!" cried the old officer, starting up and addressingher in his usual bluff tone; "I am glad to see you safe and well. Iwill never say that women are of no use any more; for, by my faith,you and that little girl got us out of a pretty predicament. I wasblind enough or stupid enough, and so were all the rest, not to markthe little path, for we passed it in charging up to the bridge; buteven if we had seen it, we should not have known that the stream wasfordable below. However, get you into the carriage again, and shutyour eyes or draw the curtains, for I see you look white and sickish,and these sights are not fit for women. The men will soon have pulleddown that barricade, and then you can go on, while we get up thewounded and follow. We must do ten miles more to-night."
"I should prefer to ride," replied Miss Walton; "you had better putthe wounded people in the carriages."
"True, true; well bethought," answered the old soldier. "You are agood girl after all."
Lord Walton smiled at this somewhat ambiguous compliment to hissister; but, as no time was to be lost, he left her under the care ofLord Beverly, and proceeded to give orders, and make thosearrangements which the circumstances required. The barricade,which had been constructed hastily of felled trees, stone, and turf,was speedily removed, and the foremost of the carriages was beingbrought forward to receive some of the men severely wounded, whowere lying about within the very narrow circle to which the strifehad been confined, when Lord Walton's servant, Langan, rode up,exclaiming--"My lord! my lord! the prisoners have made their escape."
"What prisoners?" demanded Lord Walton, forgetting those he hadbrought from Bishop's Merton.
"Why, that Roundhead rascal and canting hypocrite, Dry, of Longsoaken,with Thistleton, and the rest."
"No," rejoined Roger Hartup, who was standing near, with a severewound in his shoulder; "I shot Thistleton through the head after thefirst charge. He had picked up a sword, I don't know how, and got outof the carriage, and was just making a plunge at Jackson the foresterwhen I blew his brains out with my pistol; you will find him lyingbehind the waggons. Of the rest I know nothing."
"They are all gone," answered Langan.
"And Arrah Neil?" exclaimed Lord Walton, advancing towards thecarriages. But Arrah Neil was not there.
Arrah Neil; or, Times of Old Page 8