“Master William Jackson shall have the best the house can furnish — and quickly,” replied Joan, departing.
The apartment into which the king had been shown was tolerably large, though the ceiling was low, and it was lighted by a bay-window at the further end, and by a lattice-window at the side, commanding the entrance to the house, and looking out upon the wood. A very pleasant room, wainscoted with black oak, and furnished with an ample dining-table, and chairs of the same material. In the days of old John Giffard many a festive party had gathered round that board after a day’s hunting or hawking in the forest, but it was long, long since there had been revelry of any kind at the lodge. Over the carved oak mantel-piece hung a picture that caught Charles’s attention. It was the portrait of a grave-looking personage in a velvet doublet and ruff, with eyes so life-like that they seemed to return the king’s glances.
“The old gentleman above the fireplace appears to bid me welcome,” observed Charles. “He has a fine face.”
“It is the portrait of Squire John Giffard of Chillington, who built this house, my liege,” said William Penderel. “It has always been accounted a good likeness. Ah! if the worthy squire could but have foreseen who would come here for shelter! Some good saint must have inspired him, when he contrived the hiding-places.”
“Of a truth, I ought to feel much beholden to him for providing me with such a place of refuge,” remarked Charles.
While examining the room, the king noticed a door on the left, and found on investigation that it opened on a small closet, with a lattice-window looking upon a retired part of the garden. There was no furniture in the closet except a desk, which might be used for prayer.
“Is this one of the hiding-places?” asked Charles.
“No, my liege,” replied William Penderel, who had followed him. “This is an oratory. We are Roman Catholics, as your majesty is aware.”
“I see no altar,” observed Charles.
William Penderel opened a recess in the wall, so contrived that it had quite escaped the king’s attention, and disclosed a small altar, with a cross above it.
“Here we pay our devotions in private,” he said.
“And here I will pay mine,” rejoined Charles. “I must return thanks to the Great Power that has hitherto preserved me. Leave me.”
Careless and William Penderel at once retired, and closed the door of the oratory.
Left alone, Charles knelt down before the altar, and was for some time occupied in fervent prayer.
BOSCOBEL HOUSE FROM THE FRONT.
* * *
CHAPTER II.
HOW TRUSTY DICK BETHOUGHT HIM OF THE OAK.
In the hasty description of Boscobel House, previously given, it was remarked that the most singular feature of the edifice was a huge projecting chimney-stack. A very extraordinary chimney it was, for it had as many as seven small windows, or apertures, within it, placed at various heights, the two lowest of the openings being about eight or nine feet from the ground. Viewed at the side it could be seen that the chimney-stack, which rose considerably above the roof, formed part of a projecting wing of the house, and that there must be something peculiar in the construction of the funnels. Altogether it had a strange, mysterious look, and suggested the idea that the builder must have been slightly crazed. Yet, odd as it was, the huge, heavy, fantastic chimney harmonised with the rest of the structure. The reader will have already surmised that within this chimney-stack a secret hiding-place existed; the entrance to it being from a closet connected with a bedroom on the first floor — as will be more particularly described hereafter — while there was an outlet into the garden through a little postern, completely screened by ivy.
Since the king’s arrival at Boscobel, the chimney-stack had acquired a new interest in Trusty Dick’s eyes, and being now left in the garden to keep watch, he scrutinised it with an anxiety such as he had never heretofore felt, peering up at the narrow slits of windows, and stooping down to ascertain that the postern was completely hidden by the ivy.
Never before had he doubted the security of the hiding-place, but misgivings now came over him. What if a careful examination of the chimney, outside and inside, should be made while the king was concealed therein? Discovery would then be inevitable. Pondering upon the matter, Dick quitted the garden, and in another instant was among the noble old trees growing near the house.
An idea had taken possession of him, and he walked on till he reached a giant oak which, standing a little clear of its fellows, was able to spread abroad its mighty arms. This was the tree he sought. Though it must have been centuries old, the oak seemed in full vigour, and had suffered very little from decay. Its trunk was enormous. It had not, however, grown to a great height, but had spread laterally. Dick examined this ancient oak very carefully — walked slowly round it — looked up at the bushy central branches, and seemed perfectly satisfied with his scrutiny.
“This is the tree for the king to hide in!” he mentally ejaculated; “this is the tree! — the best in the whole forest. No one could discover him among those thick branches.”
He was still examining the oak when he was roused by Major Careless, who had been searching for him, and having found him, called out, “What ho! Dick — have you deserted your post?”
Dick explained the object that had brought him thither, and when he concluded, Careless said, “You are right, Dick. In that oak our royal master will be safe from his enemies. I will bear him company while he hides within the tree. But I must look at it more closely.”
Not content with inspecting the tree, Careless determined to test its efficiency as a place of concealment, and with his companion’s aid, he therefore climbed up into it, and concealed himself among the smaller branches.
“Canst see me now, Dick?” he called out.
“See you! — not a bit,” rejoined the other. “I should never guess your honour was up there.”
The assurance was quite enough for Careless, and he quickly descended.
“Thou hast made a most lucky discovery, Dick,” he cried. “’Tis a famous tree to hide in. His majesty will be as comfortable amid its branches as if seated in an arm-chair. I will tell him so.”
While returning to the house they caught sight of two persons approaching through the trees, and might have felt some alarm had not Dick instantly recognised his brother Humphrey.
With Humphrey Penderel was a well-clad youth, whose slight figure contrasted strikingly with that of the stalwart miller.
As the pair advanced, Careless’s curiosity was much excited by the appearance of this youth, and he questioned Dick concerning him.
“He is named Jasper,” was the reply. “He is page to Mistress Jane Lane.”
“Mistress Jane Lane’s page! Impossible!” cried Careless, whose surprise increased as the youth drew nearer, and his delicately-formed features could be more clearly discerned.
“Nay, ’tis quite certain,” remarked Dick. “He came with her the other night to Hobbal Grange. He is a forward youth, and talked much with the king, who sat beside him, and seemed to notice him.”
“I marvel his majesty did not tell me of the meeting,” cried Careless.
“Doubtless, he had forgotten it,” said Dick.
They had waited till the others came up, and as the page approached, he seemed somewhat confused, but quickly regained his composure.
Humphrey Penderel, the miller of Boscobel, was just as big, and as strongly-built as his brothers, but his broad good-humoured countenance did not wear its customary smile. On the contrary, he appeared anxious. After returning the sturdy miller’s salutation, Careless addressed the page, who for the moment completely engrossed his attention.
“Good morrow, Jasper!” he said.
“I give your honour good day,” replied the page, doffing his cap, and letting fall locks that had evidently not been subjected to Puritan scissors. “I believe I am speaking with Major Careless.”
“Right, good youth. If thou hast aught to
say to me in private, prithee step aside.”
“I have nothing to say to your honour that the others may not hear,” returned Jasper, declining the invitation. “I will only ask you to bring me to his majesty.”
“I know not that his majesty will see you,” said Careless. “I will take your message to him.”
“I am quite sure he will see me,” rejoined the page. “Mention my name to him, and ‘twill suffice.”
“Aha! you think so. His majesty will laugh at me if I tell him that a saucy page desires to be admitted to his presence.”
“I pray you make the trial,” said Jasper. “You will find that I am right, and you are wrong.”
“Do you bring a message from Mistress Jane Lane?”
“Your honour must excuse my answering that question. My business is important — very important — and does not admit of delay. If you decline to take me to his majesty, I will proceed to the house, and endeavour to find him. I will not be thwarted in my purpose.”
“You have boldness enough for anything.”
“’Tis a duty to be bold when the object is to serve the king.”
“How knew you that his majesty is at Boscobel? Tell me that.”
“I obtained the information from Humphrey Penderel, who brought me here. But do not question me now — I must and will see the king.”
“‘Must and will’ see him?”
“Ay, and without delay. You will incur his sovereign displeasure if you detain me.”
“I will put that to the test,” cried Careless. “You must stay here while I go to him.”
An end, however, was put to the discussion by the appearance of the royal personage to whom it related.
Charles, having finished his devotions in the oratory, had come forth into the garden, and after lingering there for a short time had passed out into the wood, where he chanced upon an opening that gave him a view of the vast sylvan scene with the Clee Hills and the rounded Wrekin in the distance.
After gazing at the fair prospect for a few minutes he moved in another direction, and presently came in sight of the party standing beneath the trees. Great was his surprise, when the page, who could not be restrained by Careless, ran towards him, and would have bent the knee, if the king had not checked him.
“How is this?” cried Charles. “Have you left your mistress to follow the fortunes of a fugitive Cavalier?”
“I hope soon to rejoin Mistress Jane Lane, my liege,” replied Jasper. “I have not come in quest of Major Careless, for sooth to say, I did not know he was here. I have come to warn your majesty that your enemies are on your track, and will search for you here to-day.”
“Here!” exclaimed Charles.
“Here — at Boscobel,” rejoined Jasper. “They believe they have run you to ground, and make sure of capturing you. Your majesty will wonder how I obtained this information. You shall hear. Yesterday, Mistress Jane Lane and myself remained at Hobbal Grange, as we did not like to quit our retreat, but in the evening we proceeded to the mill belonging to Humphrey Penderel, being assured that that honest man would convey us to Moseley Hall. We had not long arrived at the mill, when a patrol stopped there, and we had only just time to hide ourselves when the rogues entered the house. I was concealed in a chest standing in the room in which they sat down, and consequently overheard their discourse. It related entirely to your majesty. You have been traced to White Ladies, and they are certain you are somewhere hereabouts. They are equally certain they shall be able to discover your retreat — but I trust you will be able to baffle them. Their orders are to search Boscobel to-day, and they will be accompanied by Colonel James, who is now quartered at Chillington. All this, and a good deal more, I heard while ensconced in the chest. They spoke of the reward offered for your majesty’s discovery, and told Humphrey Penderel he should have a thousand pounds, which would make him rich for life, if he delivered you up to them, but that he would be hanged as a traitor if he helped to conceal you. Humphrey made no answer at the time, but afterwards declared he should like to have broken their heads for so insulting him.”
“Brave fellow!” exclaimed Charles. “He is as trusty as his brothers.”
“No fear of him,” said Jasper. “But Colonel James is greatly to be apprehended. He is one of your majesty’s most dangerous enemies, and will use his utmost endeavours to find you. I do not think you will be safe at Boscobel.”
“Where shall I be safe?” cried Charles. “I have only just arrived here, and now you counsel me to quit my retreat.”
“Hide yourself in the forest, sire, and return to the house after it has been searched.”
“The advice is good, and I am inclined to follow it,” rejoined the king. “Mistress Jane Lane, I trust, is in safety?”
“She is at Moseley Hall, sire. As soon as the rebels were gone, Humphrey Penderel put a pillion on his pad-nag, and took her there.”
“And you?”
“I remained to warn your majesty.”
“I am infinitely obliged to you — but confess that you had some slight expectation of finding Major Careless with me, and I am glad you have not been disappointed.”
“I had no such expectation, sire,” replied the page, blushing. “I understood Major Careless was at Madeley. I neither sought, nor desired a meeting with him.”
“Odsfish! you have changed your mind since we last met.”
“Perhaps so, sire. But I would not have my motive misconstrued. ’Tis devotion to you that has induced me to take this step. When I learnt that Colonel James was at Chillington — in quest of you — and resolved to discover your retreat, I felt you were in great danger, and I therefore made up my mind to warn you. Had I not found you here I should have gone to all the places where you were likely to take refuge. I have discharged my duty — and unless your majesty has some commands for me, I shall take my departure for Moseley Hall, where I hope to find Mistress Jane Lane. If she has gone on to Bentley Hall, I shall follow her thither.”
“Shall I send Major Careless with you?”
“On no account. Humphrey Penderel has undertaken to take charge of me. Heaven guard your majesty!”
Making an obeisance to the king, Jasper hastened back to the party who had been watching the interview with some curiosity, and signing to Humphrey Penderel, the sturdy miller instantly started off through the trees, while the page followed him, totally disregarding Major Careless’s entreaties to him to stop.
* * *
CHAPTER III.
HOW THE KING AND CARELESS TOOK REFUGE IN THE OAK.
Careless would have followed, but was prevented by the king, who strode quickly towards the spot where he was standing with Trusty Dick, and forbade him to stir.
“Spare me a moment, I beseech you, sire,” cried Careless. “I must have a word with this youth.”
“Stir not,” said Charles, in an authoritative tone. “He has told me all it is necessary I should know, and you can question him on your own account at a more convenient season.”
“But there seems to be a misunderstanding, sire, which may be rectified in an instant, if you will only allow me — —”
“Not now,” interrupted Charles. “No time must be wasted in idle talk. The youth has come to warn me that this house of Boscobel will probably be searched to-day by Colonel James, who is quartered at Chillington.”
“Humphrey has just informed me that the rebel troopers were at the mill last night, sire,” observed Dick; “and they told him they were sure your majesty was concealed somewhere hereabouts, and they would never rest till they found you.”
“They told him something more,” said Charles. “They offered him a large reward to betray me.”
“He didn’t tell me that,” said Dick. “But Humphrey is no traitor, sire.”
“He is as loyal and faithful as yourself, Dick. I cannot say more. But now — give me your frank opinion. In the event of a rigorous search by this confounded Colonel James, do you think I should be safe in yonder house?”
“Well, your majesty might be discovered — and you might not,” hesitated Dick.
“That’s no answer, Dick,” said the king. “Speak plainly, man.”
“I’ve already had some misgivings, sire. While these scoundrelly troopers are about, and especially when they’ve got an active leader, who will peer into every hole and corner, my honest opinion is that your majesty will be safer in the wood than in the house. There are no hiding-places like those of Boscobel — that I’ll uphold — but your majesty’s safety is too precious to be trifled with.”
“Nothing must be left to chance,” said Careless. “I am of Trusty Dick’s opinion that till this threatened danger has blown over, your majesty will be safest in the wood. We have found a tree in which you can hide.”
“I hope it is an oak,” cried Charles. “I would rather owe my safety to the king of the forest than to any inferior tree.”
“Truly it is an oak — a grand old oak — and hath not its peer in the forest,” said Dick.
“Take me to it,” said Charles.
In another minute he stood before the tree.
He was gazing at it with admiration, when William Penderel and his brother John were seen at a distance, evidently in quest of his majesty, and no sooner did they descry him than they hurried forward.
“You are looking for me, William?” said the king.
“Your majesty must be pleased to return at once to the house,” replied William Penderel. “Indeed, I must make bold to say it is highly imprudent to stray so far away, when the enemy is lurking about. John, who has been acting as scout, brings word that a small detachment of troopers, with Colonel James at their head, are coming from Chillington, and are almost certain to find their way here.”
“I have run so fast to get before them that I have well-nigh lost my breath,” gasped John. “But I beseech your majesty to conceal yourself without delay.”
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 661