The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  “Heaven, in its mercy, shield him!” Dulcia cried.

  “The noise grows louder!” exclaimed the colonel. “A struggle seems to be taking place in the room overhead.”

  Unable to repress an ejaculation of terror, Dulcia fell upon her knees, and prayed audibly.

  “Methinks the sound comes from the chimney!” Micklegift cried.

  “From the chimney!” the colonel exclaimed, advancing towards the fireplace, followed by the Independent minister. “You are right. Some one is coming down,” he added, stooping to look up the chimney-funnel. “Who is there?”

  “A friend,” replied the voice of Ninian. “Is the coast clear? May we come down?”

  “Powers of mercy!” the old Cavalier ejaculated. “Can it be? Is my son there?”

  “It is the colonel who speaks,” Ninian said, evidently addressing some one above him. “Yes, yes, the captain is here. Is all safe below?”

  “It is — yet stay! those ruthless Ironsides may return!” the old Cavalier cried.

  But before the latter part of his exclamation could be uttered, Ninian dropped lightly on the hearth.

  A glance satisfied the young falconer that all was secure. He turned, therefore, and calling up the funnel, “You may come down, captain,” assisted another individual to descend, and in a trice Clavering stood before his father.

  “My son! my dear son!” exclaimed the colonel, transported with delight at beholding him.

  Scarcely had Clavering and Ninian quitted the hearth than John Habergeon landed in safety, and stepped out into the room.

  By this time Clavering and Dulcia were together — the latter weeping with delight on the young man’s shoulder.

  “The enemy are searching the house for you,” Dulcia cried. How did you manage to escape them?”

  “Hush! — not so loud,” Micklegift said, stepping softly towards the door; “you will be overheard by the sentinels.”

  “We put ourselves under the guidance of Ninian,” Clavering said, in reply to Dulcia’s inquiry, “and by his aid got upon the roof, and so reached this chimney, which he declared had holdings with inside for the feet by which we could descend. It turned out as he stated; but the descent would have been impracticable on my part, helpless as I am, but for John Habergeon’s support. We meant to lurk within the chimney till the search should be over, when Ninian heard my father’s voice — and so here we are.”

  “But here you must not remain,” said the colonel. “The baffled Ironsides may return at any moment. What is to be done?”

  “Can we not conceal ourselves behind the hangings in the inner room?” cried Clavering. “One of us might take refuge in the armoire.”

  “No, no! that would be too dangerous!” John Habergeon exclaimed. “Could we but reach the garden! — That window is a good height from the ground, it is true, but I could drop from it and break no bones — and so could Ninian — but the fall wouldn’t suit Captain Clavering’s injured arm.”

  “Think not of me, John,” the young Cavalier cried, resolutely. “I am ready to make the attempt.”

  “It would be useless,” Ninian said, cautiously approaching the window and looking forth; “there is a red-coat, with a musket on his shoulder, on guard below.”

  “Pest on him!” John ejaculated. “We must e’en climb the chimney again.”

  “So it seems,” cried Clavering.

  “Be ruled by me, and enter the hiding-place in which you originally took refuge,” said Micklegift, advancing towards them.

  “The captain of the Ironsides has already searched it, and will not, in all likelihood, visit it again.”

  “The worthy man speaks the truth!” Colonel Maunsel exclaimed. “’Tis the safest place to be found. We are beholden to you for the suggestion, good Master Micklegift. Enter the recess, my son.”

  “Do not go there,” Dulcia cried, detaining Clavering. “I distrust this man. He will betray you.”

  “Since you doubt me, damsel,” said Micklegift, “let the youth stay here, and be the consequences on your head. He will not have to tarry long, for methinks I hear the footsteps of his foe without.”

  “Why do you keep him back, Dulcia?” the colonel cried, impatiently. “Worthy Master Micklegift is perfectly right, and I owe him a large debt of gratitude for twice saving my son.”

  “Spare your thanks, Colonel Maunsel, till the danger be past,” the Independent minister rejoined. “Seek the refuge I have pointed out to you, young man — or stay and brave your fate. But hesitate not. In another moment you will have no choice left.”

  “I was wrong! — go! — go!” cried Dulcia to Clavering, who still looked irresolute.

  At her entreaty he moved towards the hiding-place, the entrance to which had already been thrown open by Ninian, who had gone in. John Habergeon stood outside on the hearth.

  “Come! come! captain,” the old trooper cried, impatiently. One would think you were desirous of being captured. In with you!”

  Upon this, Clavering entered the recess, and John quickly following him, the pillar swung back to its customary position.

  CHAPTER II.

  How Mickelgift Was Ignominiously Expelled From The Grange

  SCARCELY had all been made secure, when the chamber-door suddenly opened, and a sentinel entering, cast a sharp inquisitive look around.

  “Methought I heard a noise,” he observed.

  “Thou didst hear my voice in exhortation, friend,” Micklegift said. “Remain here, and I will hold forth to thee.”

  “Nay, my post is without,” the trooper rejoined. And thinking all was right, he went forth, closing the door after him.

  For some time no other interruption occurred. Micklegift became somewhat assiduous in his attentions to Dulcia, and she, knowing that Clavering’s life was in his hands, did not venture to manifest the repugnance she felt towards him. Not for an instant, however, did she stir from her father’s side. Mr. Beard took little part in the conversation, and, indeed, scarcely noted what was said. Colonel Maunsel withdrew into the inner room, and sinking into a chair, gave way to painful reflection.

  Thus more than an hour passed, and still Stelfax returned not. Thrice during the interval — long it seemed to the expectants — had a sentinel entered the room. Although the imprisoned Royalists knew that the search would prove ineffectual, intense anxiety was felt by them as to how the Roundhead leader would bear his disappointment. In his anger he might resort to measures of increased severity. The savage character of the man warranted such a conclusion.

  At length, the sound of heavy footsteps were heard within the gallery, followed by the grounding of arms, and the stern voice of the captain of the Ironsides could be distinguished, as he questioned the sentinels. Presently afterwards he entered the room. Rage and disappointment were written in his features, and he glanced fiercely at the group before him.

  “Where is Colonel Maunsel?” he demanded, in a harsh voice.

  “I am here,” the old Cavalier answered, rising from his seat, and advancing towards him.

  “It may not, perchance, surprise you, Colonel Maunsel, to be told that my search — strict though it has been — has proved fruitless,” pursued the Ironside captain; “but though foiled for the moment, I am not to be beaten, as you will find to your cost. Three persons have escaped me — two of your own retainers, and a third person, hidden within this room, whose flight has been traitorously abetted. Now, mark me, colonel. I know you to be proud and stiff-necked, like all your rebellious party; but regard for self may sway you. The three persons I have alluded to are still in your house. Produce them, and you will save me some trouble and yourself vexation. Refuse, and I shall take other three persons in their stead, to be dealt with as the authorities may see fit. You yourself, colonel, will be one of my prisoners.” And he slightly paused to note the effect of his words upon the old Cavalier.

  “Proceed, sir,” said the other, firmly.

  “The second person I shall take will be Master Beard,” pursu
ed Stelfax, speaking with great deliberation. “The third will be his daughter.”

  “His daughter!” exclaimed the colonel, starting. “You dare not do it. On what pretence would you make her a prisoner?”

  “I render an account of my actions to those only who have the right to question me, colonel,” rejoined Stelfax, “and such is not your case. It will be painful to act thus harshly, I admit; but you enforce severity upon me. Deliver up the three men to me, and I depart at once, without offering you further molestation.”

  “I cannot do so,” groaned the colonel— “I would not, if I could.”

  “Ay, there the truth came out,” Stelfax retorted, with a bitter laugh. “That you can produce them if you will, I wot full well. It grieves me to the soul to deal harshly with this comely and delicate damsel. That I am forced to do so is owing to perverseness on your part — not to want of humanity on mine.”

  “Affect not to feel for me, I pray you, sir,” cried Dulcia. “Your pity is unneeded and unsolicited. If Colonel Maunsel and my father are made prisoners, I desire to go with them.”

  “Make yourself easy, my child,” Mr. Beard said. “This man will not venture to stretch his authority so far. He cannot mean to do as he avouches.”

  “Not mean it!” Stelfax echoed, in a jeering tone; “you will see anon whether I mean what I say or not, Master Beard.”

  “At least give ear unto me,” said Micklegift, advancing towards

  “Peace! I will not listen to thee,” cried Stelfax, roughly.

  “Yet have I something to say unto thee to which thou wilt willingly attend,” said Micklegift, in no wise abashed by the other’s rudeness. “It is not meet that this damsel should be made thy captive.”

  “Intercede not for me, I entreat you, sir?” cried Dulcia, fearing that he meditated treachery. “If my life is to be sacrificed, I will give it cheerfully.”

  “Nay, your life is not endangered, maiden,” said Stelfax; “merely your liberty — for the which, I repeat, you have to thank Colonel Maunsel.”

  “I say unto thee again, captain, the damsel’s liberty must not, and shall not be constrained,” said Micklegift.

  “Hold thy peace, I say! thou froward fellow,” cried Stelfax. “The damsel herself desires not thy mediation.”

  “Indeed I do not,” implored Dulcia. “Beseech you, good sir, let the matter be,” she added to Micklegift.

  “Thou hearest what she says,” cried Stelfax. “Trouble me no further.”

  “I will not let the matter be,” exclaimed Micklegift. “I tell thee, for the third time, thou shalt not take the damsel. Even if she would go freely with thee, she shall not do it.”

  “This passeth all endurance,” roared Stelfax, stamping his foot with rage. “What ho! guard!” he shouted. And half a dozen troopers instantly answering the summons, he continued, “Seize this pestilent fellow who hath dared to wag his evil tongue against me, and disputeth my authority. Thrust a kerchief into his mouth to stop his mischievous clamour. Cast him from the house — and suffer him not, on any pretence, to enter it again.”

  The Ironside leader’s injunctions were instantly obeyed. Micklegift’s arms were seized and pinioned behind his back, while a cloth thrust into his mouth prevented his utterance. In this guise, and exposed to further ill-usage as he was forced out of the room and hurried down stairs, he was kicked out of the house, amidst the jeers of the troopers and of such of the household as witnessed his ignominious expulsion.

  CHAPTER III.

  How The Captain Of The Ironsides Took.

  Possession Of The Colonel’s Chamber

  No one among the Royalists, except good Mr. Beard, regretted the summary dismissal of the Independent minister. Dulcia, indeed, regarded his ejection as a most fortunate deliverance, being convinced that he was about to betray Clavering, when his design was frustrated by the Roundhead leader’s unwillingness to listen to him.

  Captain Stelfax’s secret object, however, was to get rid of one whom he looked upon as a troublesome rival. Having accomplished his purpose, he withdrew to the further end of the room, where he held a long consultation with Delves. The old Cavalier, who watched them narrowly, was at no loss to understand from the captain’s gestures that he was discussing the possibility of the fugitives still being concealed within the chamber; and it was with no little alarm that at one moment he perceived the glances of both the Ironsides directed towards the mantelpiece. But his alarm was dispelled as quickly as it arose. Stelfax shook his head as if to intimate that no one could have found refuge there.

  His conference ended, the captain of the Ironsides marched up to the old Cavalier, and said, “I have resolved upon remaining here till to-morrow, Colonel Maunsel, and if by that time the three persons I have demanded from you be not delivered up to me, I shall be compelled to execute my threat in respect to yourself, Master Beard, and his daughter. If you are put to inconvenience in finding accommodation and provisions for my men, you must not blame me.”

  “I am in your power, sir, and must perforce submit,” the colonel replied. “What is your further pleasure?”

  “Humph!” exclaimed Stelfax. “I have no particular orders to give. My men must be well fed, and well lodged — but they will see to those matters themselves — and it will be best to content them. As to myself, I shall merely require this room for my occupation.”

  “This room!” the colonel exclaimed, visibly embarrassed. “Will none other serve your turn? This is my own sleeping-chamber.”

  “You must resign it to me for to-night, colonel,” Stelfax rejoined; noticing, with secret satisfaction, the other’s dismay. “I have taken a fancy to it, and cannot study your convenience.”

  “So it seems, sir,” said the old Cavalier, feeling that remonstrance would be useless, and perhaps dangerous. “You will not object, at least, to my making some little arrangements within the chamber, and removing a few trifling articles before you take possession of it.”

  “Assuredly not,” Stelfax replied. “Remove what you please, colonel. But what you do must be done in my presence, or in the presence of Sergeant Delves.”

  “I find I am indeed a prisoner,” sighed the colonel, “since my every movement must needs be watched.”

  “Recollect that you yourself render this rigour necessary,” Stelfax rejoined; “and thank me that I deal not more harshly with you. For you, fair damsel,” he added to Dulcia, “you are at liberty to retire to your own apartment, if you are so minded. But forget not that you are a prisoner to the house; and if summoned to my presence, fail not in prompt attendance. Master Beard, you can go with your daughter — on the same conditions.”

  Not venturing to remain after this dismissal, Dulcia and her father reluctantly, and full of misgiving, withdrew.

  Colonel Maunsel hoped that he might have been left alone within the chamber for a few minutes, and so snatch an opportunity of communicating with those within the hiding-place; but this being denied him, he would fain have tarried within the room. But here again his wishes were defeated, for Stelfax soon afterwards signified to him, in a tone that left no alternative but compliance, that he might retire. The only favour he could obtain was permission to send Martin Geere for such articles as he might require for the night. This accorded, he withdrew.

  It was not without considerable trepidation that old Martin executed his master’s orders; and, on returning to the library, whither the colonel had repaired, the old serving-man reported that Stelfax had caused a great wood fire to be lighted, before which he was comfortably seated — a piece of intelligence which did not tend to mitigate the old Cavalier’s anxiety, since it decreased the chances of his son’s escape.

  Deeply did Colonel Maunsel now regret that he was deprived of the assistance of John Habergeon, whose shrewdness might have helped him at this fearful emergency. But John was a prisoner as well as Clavering; and as to poor old Martin Geere, he was so bewildered as to be utterly incapable of lending efficient assistance. Resignation, therefore, w
as all that was left to the old Cavalier. He tried to calm himself, but in vain. Suspense and anxiety quite overmastered him, and reduced him at last to a state of almost stupor.

  If the colonel was plunged into the depths of gloom and despondency, Dulcia and her father were scarcely less miserable. In vain the good clergyman sought to console his daughter. His arguments fell upon deaf ears. The poor damsel’s faculties were be-numbed by terror, and for some time she scarcely gave a token of consciousness — all the efforts of her father and Patty Whinchat failing to rouse her.

  And now to glance at the Ironsides. As may be supposed, the troopers were by no means displeased by the information that they were to pass the night at the Grange. Like true soldiers, they knew right well when they were in good quarters, and were in no hurry to depart. The supplies of the larder and the buttery, notwithstanding the large demands made upon them, were by no means exhausted; and if this stock of provisions should fail, there were sides of bacon, hams, and cheeses in reserve within the store-room — while poultry and pigeons in any quantity could be had from the farmyard. Ale and wine were unstinted. Yet with all this indulgence there was no relaxation of discipline. The sentinels were changed every hour, and constant and strict watch was kept at all the points of the house.

  It being the object of the household to keep their unwelcome guests in good burnout, everything was done to promote this object. Accordingly, Giles Moppett, Elias Crundy, with the cook and the scullion-wenches, were unremitting in their efforts to please the redcoats, whom Moppett privately declared to be as ravenous as wolves, and as thirsty as camels. On their part, the Ironsides did not give way to any great licence, and took care not to drink to excess, but they smoked incessantly, and made the whole house reek like a tavern with the fumes of tobacco. They went about where they listed, without displaying much respect for the persons they encountered. Thus, three or four of them, smoking of course, entered the library where the unhappy colonel was seated, and, regardless of his looks of anger and disgust, continued to puff away at their pipes as they leisurely examined the portraits on the walls, or other objects that attracted their attention, passing unseemly comments upon them. One of them — it was Helpless Henly — taking up the Eikon Basiliké, tore the book asunder in a rage, and flung the fragments into the fire. Besadaiah Eavestaft and Tola Fell intruded themselves in the same way upon Mr. Beard, and one of them being a Fifth Monarchy Man, and the other a Muggletonian, they sat down, and sought to enter into a controversy with him. Doubtless, Dulcia, who withdrew with Patty, on the appearance of the two troopers, into an inner apartment, would have been subjected to like annoyance, but that Captain Stelfax had given express orders that her privacy should be respected.