“And they are gone?” cried Charles. “I should have liked to see their honest faces once more.”
“Your majesty knows where to find them should you again require their services,” said Mr. Whitgreave. “And I am sure nothing will delight them more than to have another opportunity of proving their fidelity.”
But circumstances, as will be seen as we proceed with our narrative, did not allow Charles to employ any one of the stalwart brothers again. Their part in our story is played. Yet before dismissing them, we would express our genuine admiration of the loyal men we have endeavoured to depict. In describing them we have not gone beyond the truth; nor endowed them with heroic qualities they did not possess. The Penderel brothers were men of unwavering loyalty, brave as faithful, and possessed of such extraordinary strength as rendered them truly formidable antagonists. Fortunately, they were not called upon to display their valour in action. Had they been required to defend the king from an attack during the nocturnal ride from Boscobel to Moseley Old Hall, which we have just described, it is certain they would have done tremendous execution upon his foes, and have delivered him, or died in his defence. That their loyal hearts could not harbour a thought of treason, or quail before peril, we have shown. Their devotion to the fugitive monarch, and the important services they rendered him in his hour of need have gained them a page in England’s history. Very pleasant has it been to chronicle their actions, and we part from them with regret.
* * *
CHAPTER VII.
HOW THE KING WAS PRESENTED TO MRS. WHITGREAVE.
Though the night was now far spent, and he had undergone great fatigue, Charles felt so happy in the society of Lord Wilmot and the others, that he was unwilling to retire to rest, and remained for some time in conversation with the party. Not before three o’clock in the morning, did he ask his host where he was to sleep.
Mr. Whitgreave conducted him to a large chamber panelled with black oak, in which stood an old-fashioned bedstead, with heavy furniture, and a carved canopy almost touching the ceiling.
While looking at this large comfortable bed, Charles feared Mr. Whitgreave would tell him that his safety demanded that he should sleep in some secret closet; but no such suggestion was made.
“I am delighted with my room,” said the king to his host; “but where are the hiding-places? I should like to see them, in case an emergency should arise.”
“I intended to show them to you to-morrow, my liege,” replied Mr. Whitgreave. “But you shall see them at once.”
With this he led the king along a narrow passage to another chamber, in which there was a small bed.
“This is my room,” said Careless, who accompanied them. “But I am quite ready to give it up to your Majesty, should you prefer it to the large oak chamber you have just seen.”
“I have no such desire,” rejoined Charles.
“Wait till you have seen the arrangements, my liege,” said Careless.
“This room has a false floor, my liege,” he said, “and beneath is a narrow passage leading to the ground floor by the brewhouse chimney. But this I will more fully explain to your majesty on the morrow.”
“Enough,” replied Charles. “I am quite content with what I have seen. I shall now sleep soundly.”
He then returned to the oak chamber, and his recent privations made him greatly enjoy the luxury of the large and comfortable bed.
Every possible precaution was taken by Mr. Whitgreave and Father Huddlestone to prevent any of the household from obtaining sight of the king. The servants were given to understand that a fugitive Cavalier had arrived at the house during the night, and was lodged in the oak bedchamber, but they believed him to be a relative of their master, and had no suspicion whatever of the truth.
Charles slept very soundly in his large and comfortable bed, and when he awoke he found Careless watching beside him. After the customary morning salutations had passed between them, Careless pointed to a rich velvet suit spread out on a fauteuil, and said:
“I pray your majesty to look at these habiliments. Your worthy host hopes you will deign to wear them during your stay at Moseley Hall.”
“Faith! I am infinitely obliged by the attention,” replied Charles. “Pray is Mr. Whitgreave married?”
“Not yet, sire,” replied Careless. “But his mother resides with him, and Father Huddlestone tells me the old lady is wonderfully anxious to be presented to your majesty.”
“Oddsfish! she must be content to see me in my peasant’s costume,” said Charles. “Had she been young and fair I might have put on that rich suit to please her. I shall only require some clean linen.”
“A shirt is already provided for you, sire, as you perceive,” replied Careless.
“‘Sdeath! I can never wear that fine shirt,” cried Charles. “The laced ruffles would betray me at once.”
“Well, here is a country noggen shirt, with coarse hosen to match. Do they please you, sire?”
“The noggen shirt and rough hose will suit me exactly,” said the king. “As a punishment for tempting me with fine linen, thou shalt help to resume my disguise.”
“Willingly, sire. I am here for the purpose of helping you to make your toilette.”
Once more habited in his forester’s dress, to which he had now become accustomed, Charles was cautiously conducted by Careless to the library, where he found Lord Wilmot, with his host and Father Huddlestone.
His majesty was received with more ceremony than he liked, and he put an end to it by sitting down to the breakfast prepared for him, and begging the others to join him. They excused themselves, alleging that they had already breakfasted, but Careless having no such excuse to offer, obeyed without the slightest hesitation. The king, however, could not prevent his host and Father Huddlestone from serving him.
Charles was in very good spirits, chatted familiarly with every one present, and seemed to make light of all difficulties and dangers. Mr. Whitgreave was quite surprised by his cheerfulness, and could not help expressing admiration at the manner in which his majesty bore his misfortunes.
“I never suffer myself to be cast down,” said the king. “And I have hitherto found my courage rise in proportion to the dangers by which I have been surrounded.”
“With the spirit you possess, my liege, and with Heaven’s support,” observed Father Huddlestone, who was standing by, “you cannot fail to overcome all difficulties, and must regain the throne.”
“I trust your prediction will be fulfilled, father,” replied Charles. “I can afford to wait. After the failure of my great enterprise, nothing more can be done in England at present. Another army cannot be raised. My object, as you are aware, is to reach the coast and embark for France. But I am environed by enemies.”
“This reminds me, sire,” said Whitgreave, “that my mother has just received a message, brought by a faithful emissary from Bentley House, which it may import you to hear, as I think it concerns your majesty.”
“I must chide you for not presenting your mother to me ere this, Mr. Whitgreave,” said Charles. “It will delight me to see her.”
“The omission shall be repaired at once, sire,” replied Whitgreave.
Making an obeisance, he quitted the library, and presently returned with a tall elderly dame, who had still to some extent preserved her good looks.
Mr. Whitgreave led his mother by the hand towards the king, who saluted her very graciously and prevented her from kneeling, telling her with many kind expressions how much he was indebted to her son for receiving him at this perilous juncture.
“Ah, sire,” she exclaimed, “my son and myself are only too proud to receive you, and would sacrifice our lives to accomplish your deliverance. Jane Lane, who is devoted to your majesty, and whom I love dearly as a daughter, has just sent a message to me to say that her brother has obtained a pass from Captain Stone, governor of Stafford, for herself and a groom to go into the west.”
And she paused.
“Well, madam,
what more?” asked Charles.
“I scarcely dare venture to propose that your majesty should perform the part of a groom, yet seeing you in this garb — —”
“Hesitate not to make the suggestion, madam,” interrupted the king. “So far from regarding it as a degradation, I shall be delighted to act as Jane Lane’s groom. The proposal meets my wishes exactly, and seems to offer me the chance I so eagerly desire of reaching the coast. What sort of person is Captain Stone?”
“A fierce Parliamentarian,” replied Whitgreave. “I have reason to remember him. At the conclusion of the Civil Wars he came hither in quest of me, and searched the house most rigorously. But I had taken refuge in one of the hiding-places, and escaped his vigilance.”
“The circumstance you mention not only illustrates Captain Stone’s character, but proves the security of the hiding-place,” observed Charles. He then turned to Lord Wilmot, and said, “It strikes me very forcibly, Wilmot, that this pass must have been procured for you.”
“Very likely, Colonel Lane obtained it for me,” was the reply. “But I gladly resign it to your majesty.”
“Nay, I cannot take your place,” said the king.
“You will deeply hurt me by a refusal, sire,” said Lord Wilmot. “And now a word to you, Mr. Whitgreave, and I beg your particular attention to what I am about to say. Should any search be made by the rebels for the king while I am in your house, I desire that I may be given up, in order to divert them from his majesty.”
“I have not been consulted, Mr. Whitgreave,” said Charles. “And I peremptorily forbid you to act as directed by Lord Wilmot. Let no more be said on the subject.”
Mr. Whitgreave bowed.
At this juncture, Mrs. Whitgreave, fancying she might be in the way, craved permission to retire, and made a profound obeisance to the king, who conducted her to the door.
* * *
CHAPTER VIII.
HOW TWO SPIES CAME BY NIGHT TO MOSELEY OLD HALL.
“I have a suggestion to make, my liege,” said Lord Wilmot, as Charles came back. “On consideration, I think it will be best that I should proceed to Bentley House at once. There I can be of use to your majesty, whereas my presence here rather tends to imperil you. Major Careless can accompany me, if he pleases, and return to let you know when Mistress Jane Lane is ready to set forth on her journey.”
“Good,” replied the king. “Does Lord Wilmot’s proposition meet with your approval?” he added to Careless.
“Perfectly,” was the reply. “If your majesty can dispense with my personal services during your sojourn here, I think I can be better employed in acting as a messenger. If I should unluckily fall into the enemy’s hands, they will get little out of me. Moreover, if the rogues should get on your track, I will engage to mislead them.”
“I have every reliance upon thee,” said Charles. “But, faith! I shall be sorry to lose thee.”
Almost immediately after the conference just described, his majesty repaired with his attendants to the room above the porch, the latticed windows of which commanded the approach to the house, and of course a sharp look out was kept, but the only persons who came near the place were some wounded soldiers, one of whom Charles recognised as belonging to his own guard, and it distressed him exceedingly that he could not speak with the poor fellow. Mr. Whitgreave, however, and Father Huddlestone gave the men relief, but did not dare to invite them into the house.
About this time Careless disappeared, and was not seen again for two or three hours. When an opportunity occurred, the king questioned him as to the cause of his absence, and Careless owned that he had been at Pendeford Mill, but had not seen Jasper. The page was gone. He had departed early in the morning, the miller said, without mentioning whither he was going.
“You need not be uneasy about him,” remarked Charles with a laugh. “He is born under a lucky star, and like myself, as I hope and believe, will escape his enemies. Very probably, you will hear of him at Bentley House.”
Careless thought so too, and though disappointed, did not allow himself to be cast down.
No troopers were seen that day, but Careless was able to account for their non-appearance, Croft, the miller, having informed him that the patrols had gone in a different direction, and he added a distressing piece of intelligence, to the effect that Colonel Ashenhurst had paid a visit to Boscobel House, and allowed his men to plunder it.
The king, with Lord Wilmot and Careless, dined in the library, where they were less liable to observation than they would have been in any other room. No servants were present, and Mr. Whitgreave and Father Huddlestone again waited on his majesty.
As soon as the household had retired to rest, Lord Wilmot and Careless took leave of the king, and were conducted by Father Huddlestone to the close called Allport’s Leasow, where they found Mr. Whitgreave with a couple of steeds, ready saddled and bridled.
Mounting without a moment’s loss of time, they bade him and Father Huddlestone good night, and rode off very quietly, till they were far enough from the house, as they judged, to accelerate their pace with safety. They then galloped off in the direction of Bentley House.
After their departure the king remained for some time alone in the room over the porch. Not daring to burn a light, he could not read, and having no inclination for slumber, he was obliged to occupy himself with his own thoughts, and having much to meditate upon, he fell into a deep reverie.
At last he roused himself, and finding that the moon had arisen in the interim, moved towards the lattice window, and gazed at the lovely scene without.
Seen by moonlight, the picturesque old mansion had a most charming effect, but only certain portions of it were visible from the projecting window at which he stood, and he had surveyed with admiration all that came within his ken, when his eye was caught by a glittering steel cap which could just be seen above the garden wall.
A mounted trooper, it appeared, had raised himself in the saddle, and was peering inquisitively at the house.
More careful examination showed the king that the trooper had a comrade with him, the latter being on foot, and armed with a carabine.
Even at that distance, and by that light, Charles recognised the foremost trooper. The man’s features were too marked to be mistaken; and, besides, circumstances had fixed them on his memory. It was Madmannah. And Charles did not for a moment doubt that the other was Ezra. Like bloodhounds these two men seemed ever on his track, and the dread that they might hunt him down at last, for a moment shook him.
At this moment the door was softly opened, and Father Huddlestone came in.
“I came to warn your majesty,” he said. “But I find you have discovered those two spies.”
“Yes, I see them plainly enough,” replied the king. “And I can tell you something about them, father, that you would hardly guess. Those are the two rogues who tried to capture me in the oak.”
“Is it possible, sire?” exclaimed the priest. “They will fail as they did then. The saints who have your majesty in their guard will thwart their evil designs. Mr. Whitgreave, being somewhat fatigued, has retired to rest. But he bade me call him on the instant if any danger threatened. I will do so now.”
“Stay an instant, father,” said the king. “I am unwilling to disturb him without cause. I think those two spies are only reconnoitring the house, and do not design to attempt an entrance now.”
“Oh! the treacherous villains!” cried Father Huddlestone. “Were I to point them out to my patron, he would fire upon them and destroy them.”
“Then do not wake him,” said Charles. “I see no cause for apprehension. Look! they are marching off.”
“Truly, they are moving, sire, but they have not finished their survey. Having examined the front, they are going to the back of the house.”
“You are right, father,” replied Charles.
BOOK THE FIFTH. JANE LANE.
CHAPTER I.
BY WHOM THE TWO SPIES WERE PUT TO FLIGHT.
In
order that they might watch the proceedings of the two spies, Father Huddlestone took the king to his own room, the windows of which commanded the rear of the house. For a few minutes nothing could be seen of the troopers, and the watchers began to think they must have departed, when the two men were observed creeping stealthily past the outbuildings on the left. Both being on foot, it seemed clear that they designed to enter the house.
Becoming seriously alarmed, Father Huddlestone besought the king to retire to his hiding-place, while he himself called up Mr. Whitgreave, when the clatter of horses’ hoofs was heard rapidly approaching, and almost immediately afterwards Charles and his companion perceived two horsemen enter the close known as Allport’s Leasow.
As a matter of course, the arrival of the horsemen had been heard by the troopers as well as by the king and his companion, and alarmed by the untoward circumstance, the Roundheads abandoned their design upon the house, and hurriedly made for the spot where Madmannah had tied up his horse. This was a gate opening upon the close, but before they could reach it, they were confronted by the horsemen, who drew their swords, and prepared to attack them, thus clearly proving themselves to be Royalists.
As an answer to this threat of the Cavaliers, Ezra discharged his carabine at the foremost of them, but evidently without effect, for the individual he had aimed at uttered a fierce exclamation, and would certainly have cut down the trooper, if the gate had not hindered him, and during the time required to force it open, Ezra had made good his retreat. Nor did Madmannah stand his ground. When his comrade took to his heels, he fled likewise, and they both sought refuge in the grove that skirted the close. Here they were quickly pursued by the Cavaliers, who did not rest till they had driven them away from the house, Madmannah’s horse being seized upon as lawful spoil by the victors.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 668