The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  The young man at once obeyed the summons. The noise made by the searchers had reached him in his retreat, and guessing the cause, he prepared to stand upon his defence, resolved not to surrender with life. Happily, his resolution was not put to the test.

  In a few words John Habergeon explained to him what had occurred. But though he was free, escape might be rendered impracticable by the return of the troopers. What was to be done next? To get out of the house seemed almost impossible. Every outlet, as John knew, was guarded. Still, something must be done — and quickly. No mercy was now to be expected from the maddened Roundhead leader, who was hammering and hacking at the door with his sword, and making a terrific disturbance.

  John’s brain was usually fertile in expedients, but he was at his wits’ end now, when Ninian, coming up to them, recalled his energies.

  “Why do you loiter?” the young falconer cried, impatiently “Those cursed troopers will be back in a moment, and Captain Clavering will be caught.”

  “But all the doors are guarded!” John cried.

  “Except the door of this room, and that will serve our turn,” Ninian answered, with a laugh. “Come with me, and I will show you how to get out of the house, in spite of them.”

  “Have with you then,” cried Clavering. “Will you not come with us, sir?” he added to Mr. Beard.

  “No, my dear son,” the clergyman said. “Do you seek safety in flight; I will abide here.”

  “You had better come, reverend sir,” John cried. “Yon savage Roundhead is no respecter of persons, and will show little consideration for your holy calling.”

  “I will withstand his malice,” Mr. Beard answered, resignedly. “Do not concern yourselves about me. Go! — and Heaven guard you!”

  “Quick! quick! or you will be too late!” cried Ninian, who had partly opened the door. “Methinks I hear them coming.”

  “Make sure that we may venture forth,” cried Clavering. Ninian stepped out into the gallery, and reported that no one was there, but that he could hear the voices of the troopers in the hall below. On this assurance, Clavering and John Habergeon instantly went forth, closing the door after them.

  Left alone, the good clergyman sat down, and strove to prepare himself for the scene which he expected to ensue. All the time, Stelfax continued battering at the closet door, and vociferating loudly.

  Ere long, Sergeant Delves and the two troopers entered the room, bearing the implements for breaking open the mantelpiece. They were surprised on seeing only Mr. Beard, and at a loss to account for their leader’s disappearance, for Stelfax had momentarily ceased his clamour — probably from exhaustion. However, he presently renewed it, and with greater fury than ever, and then Sergeant Delves, beginning to comprehend what had occurred, rushed up to the clergyman, and, seizing his shoulder, shook him violently, exclaiming,

  “What! thou perfidious and dissembling Episcopalian, hast thou entrapped our leader, a mighty man of valour like Amasiah, the captain of Jehoshaphat, and fastened him within yon closet? Give me the key thereof instantly, or I will smite thee with the edge of the sword, even as the false priests of Baal were put to death by the soldiers of Jehu.”

  “To do me injury will advance thee little, friend,” replied Mr. Beard, firmly. “I have not the key. Thou wert better liberate thy captain thyself. Thou hast the means of doing so.”

  Apparently, the sergeant thought the advice good, for he called out to Captain Stelfax that assistance was at hand, which had the effect of tranquillizing him. Delves next directed his men to burst open the door — a task which they easily accomplished.

  Thus liberated, the Roundhead captain strode forth, sword in hand, and foaming with rage, followed by Micklegift, who maintained the most perfect composure.

  “’Tis as I expected!” Stelfax cried, looking around, and seeming only Mr. Beard; “the treacherous rogues have fled. But they shall not escape me. They cannot have quitted the house.”

  “Impossible, captain,” Sergeant Delves rejoined. “Every issue is guarded.”

  “We will have them, alive or dead!” cried Stelfax. “Get thee downstairs quickly, Delves, and give the alarm to thy comrades. Bid them be on the alert. If any one attempts to escape, let him be shot down. Bring up half a dozen men with you. We will search the house from top to bottom but we will find them. Some one must have been concealed within this chamber — perchance the Young Man, Charles Stuart, himself.”

  “Ha! say you so, captain?” Delves exclaimed. “That were a prize, indeed!”

  “Nay, ’tis mere conjecture,” Stelfax rejoined, somewhat hastily. “Yet ’tis certain one has been hidden here. Away with thee downstairs, and leave me to question this Episcopalian preacher.”

  And as Delves departed, the Roundhead captain marched up to Mr. Beard, and shaking him as roughly as the sergeant had done, fiercely demanded who had been concealed in the room.

  “I will answer no questions,” Mr. Beard replied, meekly but firmly; “so you may spare yourself the trouble of interrogating me.”

  “I will find a way of making thee speak, thou perverse and purblind zealot,” Stelfax roared. “Think not I will show thee mercy because of thy comely daughter. Thou shalt undergo the torture. My men shall put jagged rings upon thy limbs that shall pierce deeply into the flesh. Thy legs shall be thrust into an iron boot that shall crush bone and marrow, and make thee lame for life.”

  “All this you may do, and more, as your savage nature may suggest,” the clergyman said, firmly; “yet shall you not force me speak.”

  “We shall see presently,” Stelfax cried. “I ask thee again, who has been concealed in this room? — the Young Man, Charles Stuart, eh?”

  Mr. Beard made no reply.

  “Put on the thumbscrew, Tola,” Stelfax said. “I will waste no more time with him.”

  “Hold, captain,” Micklegift interposed. “I will not permit this worthy man to be tortured.”

  “Thou wilt not permit it! ho! ho!” Stelfax exclaimed, in a jeering tone. “In what way wilt thou prevent it? Withdraw, if thou carest not to see my order executed.”

  “No, I will not withdraw. I protest against thy cruel order,” Micklegift cried, resolutely. “I lift up my voice against it, and if thou harmest this good man, thou and thy men will repent it.”

  “I have heard enough,” cried Stelfax, fiercely. “Thrust him from the room, and obey my order.”

  “I will resist them — yea, I will resist them with force,” said Micklegift.

  The troopers hesitated, not liking to lay hands upon the Independent minister.

  At this moment the door opened, and Colonel Maunsel and Dulcia entered the room. The old Cavalier looked pale as death, and greatly agitated. He cast an anxious look around, as if apprehensive that his son’s retreat had been discovered. Dulcia was equally alarmed.

  “My father! my father!” she shrieked, flying towards the poor clergyman.

  BOOK V. FOX AND WOLF

  CHAPTER I.

  How Clavering Came Down The Chimney; And How Mickelgift Lent Him Aid For The Second Time

  ILL news travels quickly. Colonel Maunsel was warned of the danger awaiting him, long before he reached the Grange. Some half-dozen loyal villagers mounting the down at the rear of the mansion, stationed themselves near the old barrow, and as soon as they descried the little party descending the gorse- coloured slopes of the furthest hill on the north-west, they ran to meet the colonel, and gave him the alarming intelligence that his habitation was in the hands of the Ironsides, every door guarded, and no one allowed to come forth. The faithful rustics, of course, were unable to state what had taken place inside the house, or what discoveries had been made, but enough was related to fill the colonel with deepest disquietude: — the only relief to his anxiety being afforded by the certitude which he likewise derived from his informants that Ninian had reached the Grange before the enemy.

  On approaching Ovingdean, the loyal rustics took leave of the old Cavalier and Dulcia, who proceeded
to the mansion. Dismounting at the porch, and giving their horses to Eustace Saxby, they both went in, no hindrance being offered by the sentinels posted at the door.

  Old Martin Geere met them in the entrance-hall — his wobegone looks announcing disaster. The old serving-man, we may remark, dreading lest he should betray himself by some indiscreet observation, had quitted the colonel’s chamber before Stelfax was entrapped by the agency of Micklegift, and consequently he could give no account of that occurrence, or what had followed it; but he knew enough to heighten his master’s and Dulcia’s alarm, and fearing the worst — the worst with them being the discovery of Clavering’s hiding-place — they hurried upstairs, entering the room, as previously narrated, at the moment when. Increase Micklegift interposed to prevent Mr. Beard from undergoing the torture.

  Their entrance operated as a check upon the threatened violence. At the sight of Dulcia, Stelfax, by a sudden effort, constrained his wrath; while the two troopers involuntarily drew back as the shrieking maiden rushed up to Mr. Beard, and flung her arms around his neck.

  “What would these barbarous men do to you, my father?” she asked.

  “They would torture him,” Micklegift replied, answering for Mr. Beard, whose agitation almost deprived him of the power of utterance.

  “Torture an unoffending clergyman — an old man — impossible!” cried Dulcia, in an agonized voice. “Cruel as they are, they cannot mean it. They must have some respect for religion — some reverence for grey hairs.”

  “Alas! they have none, my child,” Mr. Beard observed. “Neither my age nor my sacred calling would have protected me from outrage, but for this good man’s interposition.” And, as he spoke, he cast a grateful look at Micklegift.

  “Is this so?” cried Dulcia to Stelfax. “Do you still hold to your savage purpose?”

  “Nay, I meant but to work upon thy father’s fears, damsel, and so extort a confession from him,” the Ironside captain replied. “I did not design to proceed to extremities with him.”

  “Heaven alone can read our secret thoughts,” observed Micklegift, in a tone of incredulity. “But thy part was so well played, that at least it imposed upon me.”

  Stelfax bent his brows, but took no other notice of the observation.

  Colonel Maunsel had not hitherto spoken, but had looked on in the utmost anxiety, being ignorant, of course, of his son’s evasion. He now addressed himself to Stelfax, in the hope of eliciting some information from him.

  “You spoke of confession, sir,” he said to the Roundhead leader. “What hath Mr. Beard to reveal?”

  “You shall learn presently, Colonel Maunsel,” the other rejoined, sternly.

  “Nay, he shall learn at once,” Micklegift interposed. “The valiant captain hath been locked in yonder closet, and waxing wroth at his confinement, he visited his anger on Master Beard’s head, charging the unoffending old man with aiding a fugitive to escape.”

  “How know’st thou Master Beard is unoffending?” Stelfax cried. “Thou wert shut up with me in the closet, and couldst not tell what took place.”

  “Ha!” the old Cavalier exclaimed, a sudden light breaking upon him.

  “The valiant captain seems to suspect that a proscribed malignant hath been concealed within this room,” Micklegift continued, with a significant look at Colonel Maunsel.

  “I am certain of it,” the Roundhead leader returned; “and I begin to suspect it was by thy instrumentality, master preacher, that he hath escaped.”

  “How could that be, seeing I was with thee in the closet?” Micklegift rejoined.

  “It might easily be — since it was by thy device that I was led into the snare. Bitterly shalt thou rue it, if I find thee leagued with the Amalekites.”

  “Let it be proven that I am leagued with them,” Micklegift rejoined, “and I will abide any punishment thou mayst choose to inflict upon me.”

  “Proof that thou art in concert with the enemies of the Commonwealth may appear hereafter,” Stelfax retorted. “Meantime, I have a question to put to you, Colonel Maunsel, whereunto I demand a distinct answer. Hath Amon, the son of Manasseh, whose provocations kindled the wrath of the Lord God against Judah — hath Amon, I say, taken refuge in thy house?”

  “I will not feign to misunderstand you,” the old Cavalier rejoined. “But were it as you suspect, think you I would betray him?”

  “You prevaricate, and convert my doubts into certainties,” cried Stelfax. “The Young Man hath been here — nay, is here still — for he cannot have eluded the vigilance of the sentinels. Are you aware, Colonel Maunsel, that a Proclamation was posted this morning at your gate, to the effect that whosoever shall harbour Charles Stuart shall be held guilty of high treason? Did you read that Proclamation?”

  “I did, and would have trampled it beneath my feet.”

  “The punishment of high treason is death, colonel — death on the scaffold! Forget not that,” Stelfax said.

  “I shall but die as my Master died, if I so perish,” the old Cavalier rejoined.

  Just then, Sergeant Delves entered the room, and the half-opened door afforded a glimpse of several other troopers standing without in the gallery.

  “The men await your orders, captain,” said the sergeant, advancing towards his leader.

  “It is well,” Stelfax answered. “Before I proceed to the search Colonel Maunsel, it is right you should know that two of your retainers, John Habergeon and Ninian Saxby by name, have aided and abetted in this attempted escape of a concealed traitor and enemy to the Commonwealth. If they fall into my hands I shall show them little grace.”

  “Heaven grant them a deliverance!” murmured the colonel.

  “And now,” continued Stelfax, “I must see the hiding-place within yon chimney. Will you show me the entrance to it voluntarily, or must my men break down the mantelpiece? See it I will.”

  Colonel Maunsel hesitated, uncertain how to act.

  “Advance, men — to your task!” Stelfax said.

  “Hold!” the colonel exclaimed. And stepping towards the hearth, he touched the secret spring, and the pillar flew back.

  “An ingenious contrivance, truly,” cried Stelfax, with a laugh; “but you must have a better device than this to delude me. Give me thy pistol, sergeant,” he continued, taking the weapon from Delves. “I will go in myself. Guard thou the entrance. I will not be entrapped a second time.” So saying, he stepped into the recess, while Delves planted himself outside it.

  Nothing was said during the brief absence of the Ironside leader. Colonel Maunsel, though almost confident of his son’s escape, was not wholly free from uneasiness, while Dulcia glanced anxiously and inquiringly at her father, who strove to reassure her with his looks.

  In another moment, Stelfax came forth again.

  “The bird has flown,” he said, “but the nest is yet warm. He cannot be far off.”

  “The fugitives cannot have left the house, captain — of that I am certain,” Delves remarked. “No one has come down stairs.”

  “We shall discover them, I doubt not,” Stelfax rejoined. “Visit yon inner chamber once more, and then we will search elsewhere.”

  The sergeant did as directed, and made a rigorous but unsuccessful investigation of the apartment.

  “I did not expect any one would be found there,” Stelfax said; “but nothing must be neglected. You, Colonel Maunsel, and all of you,” he continued, “will remain prisoners for the present within this chamber — with the exception of Master Increase Micklegift, who is at liberty to depart.”

  “Nay, I will tarry where I am,” the Independent minister rejoined.

  For a moment, Stelfax seemed disposed to insist upon his departure, but, changing his mind, he exclaimed, “Tarry here if thou wilt. Sentinels will be placed at the door, and will suffer no one to go forth.”

  Upon this, he quitted the room with Delves, and the door was closed upon the prisoners. As soon as this was done, Micklegift approached the old Cavalier, and said to him, “N
ot altogether unjustly did yon man of wrath tax me with leaguing with your party. Your son owes his safety to me. But for my timely aid he would be now in the hands of his enemies, and you are aware how he would have been dealt with.”

  “It is quite true, worthy sir,” Mr. Beard subjoined. “Good Master Micklegift must be regarded as your son’s preserver, as he has since been my defender from violence.”

  “I thank you from my heart, sir,” the colonel said, warmly. “I have been much mistaken in you.”

  “Thank the worthy man, my child,” Mr. Beard said to Dulcia. “We are all greatly beholden to him.”

  “He has my thanks,” Dulcia replied, unable to overcome her strong aversion to Micklegift; “and I trust he has been influenced by good motives in what he has done.”

  “Why should you mistrust him, my child?” her father remarked, somewhat severely.

  “Ay, wherefore shouldst thou doubt me, maiden?” Micklegift said, in a half- reproachful tone, And bending his head towards her, he whispered, “This have I done for thy sake — and I will do yet more, if thou dost desire it.”

  Dulcia made no reply, but cast her eyes upon the ground.

  “Take comfort, worthy sir, I entreat you,” Mr. Beard said, noticing that the colonel seemed still a prey to keen anxiety. “All may yet be well.”

  “Not till I am assured of my son’s safety shall I feel relief,” the old Cavalier rejoined. “Little has yet been gained. ’Tis a mere escape from one room to another. Flight from the house, guarded as it is, is next to impossible, and I know not where concealment can be found within doors.”

  “Concealment will not be attempted, I apprehend, sir,” Mr. Beard remarked. “Ninian seemed confident of getting out of the house secretly.”

  “Did he so?” cried the colonel. “Then I have better hopes. Some plan may have occurred to him which does not occur to me. Hist! — did you not hear a noise?”

  “Only the trampling of heavy feet as the Roundhead soldiers move from chamber to chamber,” Mr. Beard replied. “Pray Heaven your son escape them!”