“’Tis clear from what you say, Frank, that there will be no risk in communicating the secret to your ladies.”
“Fear nothing. Women can keep a secret as well as we men can — better, perhaps. My household consists of some twenty persons, and I firmly believe there is not a traitor among them.”
“That is much to say. Yet ‘twill be best not to try their fidelity. There is one honest fellow, I’ll be sworn — Harry Peters.”
“Peters is not an exception — they are all honest. But come in. I am anxious to acquaint the ladies with the good news respecting the king.”
He then took Careless into the house, and led him to a parlour, which was lighted by a lamp placed on the table. In this room three ladies were assembled, two of them being young, and engaged on some feminine occupation, while the third and oldest of the party was reading a devotional work.
The elderly dame, as will be surmised, was the colonel’s mother. Lady Wyndham had a stately figure and a dignified deportment, and though her finely formed features bore the impress of age, they were still regular in outline. Her costume belonged to an earlier period, and suited her well. Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Wyndham, the heiress to whom the colonel owed Trent, possessed considerable personal attractions — magnificent black eyes and luxuriant black tresses.
A striking contrast to Mrs. Wyndham was Juliana Coningsby — a charming blonde, with summer blue eyes, delicately formed features, snow-white skin, and light locks. When she smiled — and she smiled very frequently — two rows of exquisite pearls were displayed. Juliana was just nineteen, and our description would be incomplete if we did not add that her figure was slight and exceedingly graceful.
Careless’s appearance caused some excitement among the company. As we have intimated, he was known to Lady Wyndham, who received him very cordially, and after he had said a few words to her he was presented in due form to the other ladies.
When the presentation had taken place, Colonel Wyndham remarked:
“Major Careless brings us very good news. The rumour we have heard of the king’s death at Worcester is utterly unfounded. His majesty is safe and well.”
“I can vouch for that, since I only left him this morning,” added Careless.
Joyful exclamations arose from all. Juliana clapped her hands together, and called out:
“I knew it! I knew the king was safe. Nothing would persuade me to the contrary. And I am just as sure now that he will escape his enemies, and regain the throne.”
“His majesty will be delighted to find he has such a zealous partisan,” observed Careless, smiling at her vivacity. “You must give him the assurance from your own lips.”
“I should like to have an opportunity of doing so,” she rejoined.
“Then your wish will be speedily gratified, Juliana,” said Colonel Wyndham. “You will very soon have an opportunity of conversing with the king.”
His wife and Lady Wyndham were greatly surprised by the announcement, and questioned him as to its meaning by their looks; but Juliana called out:
“You are jesting with me, Frank.”
“Not so,” he rejoined. “But I won’t keep you longer in suspense. Learn then that the king is coming here.”
“His majesty coming to Trent!” exclaimed Juliana, again clapping her hands. “Oh! that is delightful. I have longed so much to see him.”
“Moderate yourself, my love,” said Mrs. Wyndham, who looked scarcely less pleased.
“You are his majesty’s harbinger, I suppose?” said Lady Wyndham to Careless.
“Your ladyship is right,” he replied. “I have attended the king ever since the great disaster at Worcester. Several attempts which he has made to escape to France, have been frustrated, and he has therefore resolved to abide a time when the vigilance of his enemies shall relax. With this design he has fixed upon Trent House as a retreat, feeling well assured that he has not a more devoted adherent than Colonel Francis Wyndham.”
“His majesty has formed a just opinion of my son,” said Lady Wyndham. “He will be quite safe under his roof.”
“Women are not generally trusted with important secrets,” observed Mrs. Wyndham. “But his majesty need fear no indiscretion on our part. Juliana is sometimes rather thoughtless, but she will now see the necessity of keeping strict guard upon her tongue.”
“I have never yet had a secret confided to me,” said the young lady in question; “but if everybody is as careful as I shall be his majesty won’t be in much danger.”
“I have already assured Major Careless that the servants can be relied upon,” said Colonel Wyndham.
“Yes, they are all perfectly faithful and honest,” said his wife. “But of course every precaution shall be observed.”
“His majesty shall have my room,” said Lady Wyndham. “I will describe it to you, Major Careless, and then you will judge of its fitness for the purpose. It is not in this part of the house, but is situated above the kitchen. It is reasonably large, and loftier than you would expect, because the ceiling is raised into the roof, and supported by oaken rafters. On either side are lattice windows which look into the garden and command the yard, so that his majesty would be made immediately aware of the arrival of any dangerous visitor. The room is wainscoted with old oak, and at one end is a secret closet in which the king could take refuge. But this is not all. A movable board within the closet affords access to a short, narrow staircase contrived in the wall, by means of which an outbuilding can be gained, and thus any search may be eluded. I must not omit to mention that in the principal room there is a small cupboard, concealed by a sliding panel, and in this cupboard wine and provisions may be stored. But you must see the room yourself. No other apartment in the house offers such facilities for concealment and flight.”
“Your ladyship’s description is so clear,” said Careless, “that I need not see the room to decide that it is exactly suitable to the king’s present requirements. My only concern is that you should be obliged to relinquish it.”
“Poh! that is a mere trifle,” exclaimed the loyal old dame. “I would give up all I possess to benefit his majesty. I shall easily find another room.”
“You shall have mine, dear aunt,” cried Juliana, eagerly.
“When is his majesty’s arrival to be expected?” inquired Colonel Wyndham.
“He is staying at Abbots Leigh, near Bristol,” replied Careless. “In all probability he will leave there to-morrow morning, attended by Mistress Jane Lane and Sir Clement Fisher, but he will not proceed beyond Castle Cary. Early on the following day he may be looked for here.”
“All shall be ready for him,” said Colonel Wyndham.
A long conversation then ensued, which it is not needful to report. The ladies had a number of questions to ask respecting the fatal fight at Worcester and the king’s subsequent adventures, and while Careless gratified their natural curiosity, Colonel Wyndham left the room to give directions for the accommodation of his unexpected, though most welcome guest. Careless’s auditors listened with the deepest interest to his vivid description of the king’s hair-breadth ‘scapes, but no one was so excited by the relation as Juliana Coningsby.
From the first moment when she beheld the king’s faithful messenger, Juliana had been struck by his appearance, but when he recounted some stirring incident in which he himself, as well as his royal master, had taken part — when his eyes flashed, and the gloom that had hitherto hung upon his brow was dispersed — she thought him the handsomest man she had ever beheld, and began to feel an interest in him, such as she had never before experienced. She was still watching his animated countenance — still drinking in his accents — when Colonel Wyndham broke the charm — very unpleasantly to her — by coming in, and announcing that supper was ready. The party then adjourned to the dining-room, where a substantial repast awaited them.
* * *
CHAPTER IV.
JULIANA CONINGSBY.
Comfortably lodged, and fatigued by his long journey, C
areless slept very soundly, and awoke in better spirits than he had felt since the sad catastrophe in the gorge of the Avon.
On descending from his room he went forth upon the lawn in front of the house, and was admiring the range of magnificent elms by which it was surrounded, when Juliana Coningsby came out of the garden with a little basket of flowers in her hand, and tripped towards him with a light footstep across the smooth greensward.
If Careless had been struck by her beauty overnight, he was far more impressed by it now. Her figure, we have said, was exceedingly light and graceful, and in her very becoming morning costume, with her blonde tresses hanging over her shoulders, and her fair complexion slightly heightened, she looked really charming.
He had persuaded himself that he could never love again, but now that this exquisite creature stood before him, and greeted him with the sweetest smile imaginable, and in accents that sounded melodiously in his ear, he began to think it possible he might do so.
Formal salutations having passed between them, she said:
“Do you know, Major Careless, I have been dreaming all night of the king’s romantic adventures, which you related to us. I quite envy Jane Lane the part she took in them. I should consider it the greatest privilege to attend upon his majesty.”
“Jane Lane is a person of the highest courage, full of ardour and zeal for the royal cause,” replied Careless. “You must excuse my saying that very few of your sex would have gone through what she has done.”
And a slight shade crossed his features as he spoke.
“It is plain you think I could not do as much,” said Juliana, in a slight tone of pique. “But I am certain I could. To ride on a pillion behind the king would be an event to remember all one’s life. Jane Lane must feel very proud. Is she good-looking?”
“Remarkably so,” rejoined Careless. “I have seen very few persons who can compare with her. She is not only beautiful but full of spirit. But you will see her, for she is coming here with the king. Sir Clement Fisher, to whom she is betrothed, will form one of the party. Should she succeed in bringing his majesty safe to Trent, her duties will be at an end, and you can then, if you think proper, assume her post. The king, I am sure, will be enchanted to have so fair a companion. But the service is not without great risk.”
“There would be no excitement in it — no honour to be won — if there were no risk,” she rejoined. “I hope some circumstance may occur to prove that I am not inferior to Jane Lane.”
While thus conversing, they had moved to a part of the lawn from which the church was visible. It has been already stated that the beautiful old structure was quite close to the mansion, and indeed a narrow road only divided the churchyard from the garden.
“Though the church is so near to us, and contains the family pew,” said Juliana, “we are prevented from offering our devotions within it. The worthy rector, the Reverend Richard Langton, has been deprived of his benefice, and has been succeeded by an Independent minister, and though the Reverend Lift-up-Hand Meldrum, for so he is named, may be a very good man, we none of us care to listen to his discourses. We have prayers at home, and Mr. Langton, who though driven from the rectory, still resides in the village, officiates as Colonel Wyndham’s domestic chaplain.”
As Careless expressed a desire to inspect the sacred edifice, with which he was much struck, they passed out at a small gate at the bottom of the garden. A few steps brought them to the entrance to the churchyard — a quiet spot, full of graves of rounded turf. On the left of the churchyard stood the old rectory, now occupied by the Independent minister.
On approaching the church they found the door open and walked in. The interior of the old fabric was as beautiful as the exterior, and not much damage had been done to its monuments, though the painted glass in the windows had been destroyed. A hasty survey of the chancel sufficed for Careless. As they returned through the churchyard, a tall, sallow-complexioned personage, in a black gown and Geneva bands, could be seen standing at the door of the rectory.
“The Reverend Lift-up-Hand Meldrum is watching us,” said Juliana. “Perhaps it would have been more prudent in you not to come here.”
“It matters little, I think,” said Careless. “If he is inquisitive, he must have learnt that a stranger has arrived at the manor-house.”
“Very true; but he will now discover from your attire that you are a Cavalier.”
They did not return by the garden, but entered the yard, which we have described as contiguous to the church.
Here they found Colonel Wyndham, who was giving some orders to Peters and another groom, and after a hearty greeting had passed between Careless and his host, they proceeded to the stables to look at the horses. On their return from this inspection, which occupied only a few minutes, the colonel stopped Careless in the middle of the yard, and bade him notice the upper windows in the projecting wing of the house.
“Those windows belong to the room which my mother proposes to relinquish to his majesty,” he said. “Below is the kitchen, which we will visit anon, in order that you may see how the house is arranged. Notice the little outbuilding on the left, attached to the main structure. ’Tis a brewhouse, but it is important because the projecting chimney which you see beyond the gable contains the secret closet and staircase. On the other side there is an outlet to the garden, perfectly concealed by shrubs. Now notice the penthouse in the angle of the building. It has two arches as you will observe, and behind each is a door, one of which affords an exit and the other an entrance. The room which his majesty will occupy, possesses the means of exit. Now come and look at the kitchen.”
So saying, he led his guest to a deeply-arched doorway near the brewhouse, which at once admitted them to a goodly room, occupying the entire ground floor of this part of the building. The roof was somewhat low, but it was festooned with hams, and the kitchen contained an enormous fireplace, at which a baron of beef or a whole sheep might be roasted. The cook was now busily at work for breakfast, roasting a brace of partridges, and frying eggs and bacon. Colonel Wyndham did not disturb her in her occupation, but took Careless into the outbuilding, and showed him how secret access might be gained to the room above.
“I see exactly what could be done,” remarked Careless. “If the house should be searched, his majesty might come down from the room above, and, mingling with the servants, would not be observed.”
“Precisely,” replied Colonel Wyndham.
They then repaired to the dining-room, where they found all the ladies assembled. With them was the deprived rector of Trent, who dwelt in a small cottage hard by, but generally took his meals in the house.
The Reverend Mr. Langton’s manner was grave, and not devoid of dignity, and his venerable appearance was heightened by his silver locks. That the good man bore his losses with resignation was shown by the placid expression of his countenance. Colonel Wyndham had already explained to Careless that Mr. Langton must be considered as one of the family, and that no secrets need be kept from him, adding that the king had not a more devoted subject than the reverend gentleman.
As will be readily conceived, the king’s expected visit engrossed the thoughts of all concerned in the scheme, and preparations for his majesty’s reception were immediately commenced, though with all due caution. Lady Wyndham removed to another room; and when Careless was shown the antique and curious chamber she had just quitted, he pronounced it admirably adapted to the purpose desired.
Having most successfully accomplished his mission, Careless prepared to set out to Castle Cary, where he had appointed to meet the king, and inform him how he had prospered. So charmed were the ladies of Trent with the very agreeable manners of the king’s handsome messenger, that his departure would have caused them great regret if he had not promised to return next day, in company with his royal master.
Colonel Wyndham, attended by Harry Peters, rode with his friend as far as Sherborne. Here they separated, and Careless pursued his journey alone, proceeding to Milborne Po
rt, and Wincaunton, where he halted for a short time.
On arriving at the prettily situated little town of Castle Cary, he put up at an inn where he thought that the king and his companions would alight. They were not there, but he learnt that a party answering to their description had gone to the manor-house, then belonging to Mr. Kirton, who, it subsequently appeared, was well known to Sir Clement Fisher.
The manor-house was situated on the further side of a hill, on which the castle had once stood, and thither Careless proceeded on foot. He did not make himself known at the house, as he was fortunate enough to find the king in the stable. During the short interview he had with his majesty, he acquainted him with the entire success of his mission, and Charles was delighted with the description given him of Trent. In return, the king informed his attendant that he had left Abbots Leigh early in the morning, accompanied by Sir Clement Fisher and Jane Lane, and had encountered no difficulty or interruption during the whole day’s journey.
“Feeling that Jane must be tired of the pillion,” he said, “I induced her to discard it. Like a discreet groom I lagged behind, and left the lovers to enjoy their conversation unmolested, only joining them when they seemed tired of each other’s society. It would appear that Sir Clement has been slightly jealous, though he has no reason on earth to be so; but he is quite cured now, and I am glad of it, for he is a most excellent fellow.”
“All is well, then,” said Careless, laughing. “It would have been a sad thing if the match had been broken off. Has your majesty any further commands for me?”
“None. We shall start betimes in the morning. You can join us a mile or two out of the town. Good night!”
Careless then returned to the inn.
* * *
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 678