The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

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by William Harrison Ainsworth


  “Since your majesty approves the plan, I will set out for Rackton forthwith.”

  “Nay, thou shalt not depart to-day, Robin,” cried the king. “To-morrow will be quite time enough. I must have some further talk with thee. The sight of thy honest face cheers me. Thou shalt lodge in my room.”

  “Nay, your majesty shall not be put to inconvenience. I can find him a room,” remarked Colonel Wyndham.

  It was then arranged that Colonel Philips should remain at Trent till the following day. His company was a great pleasure to the king, and helped to dissipate the ennui under which his majesty had been labouring of late. They had some further discussion as to the proposed embarkation from the Sussex coast, and the more he considered the plan the better the king liked it.

  That night, Charles supped with the family party in the dining-room, Colonel Philips, of course, being present, and the improvement in his majesty’s spirits was noticed by all the ladies. Supper was just over when Harry Peters rushed into the room, with a very anxious countenance, and said that Mr. Meldrum and some of the villagers — notorious fanatics — were coming to search the house immediately. They had witnessed Colonel Philips’s arrival, and felt certain he was the king — the report, of his majesty’s death at Worcester having been authoritatively contradicted.

  On this alarming intelligence, Charles immediately hurried up-stairs to conceal himself in the secret closet, while Colonel Philips and Careless followed more leisurely, and sat down in the king’s room. The searchers were not long in making their appearance, and Mr. Meldrum demanded that Charles Stuart should be delivered up to them.

  Colonel Wyndham answered them courteously.

  “You shall see the gentleman who arrived here to-day, and judge for yourselves whether he is Charles Stuart.”

  With this, he conducted them to the room up-stairs. It was illumined by a lamp, which showed them the two gentlemen seated near a table. Both arose on the entrance of the party, and saluted Mr. Meldrum.

  “You have seen me before, I doubt not, reverend sir,” observed Careless, respectfully; “because I regularly attend your church, and have profited much by your discourses.”

  “Truly, I have seen you, sir,” replied the minister, “and have been much pleased by your devout manner and attention. I have, also, been well pleased to find that Mistress Juliana Coningsby has become a convert — peradventure, on your persuasion. I begin to think we are mistaken,” he added to those with him. “This is a person of middle age, whereas Charles Stuart, as ye wot, is designated the Young Man.”

  “This gentleman is Captain Copthorne,” said Careless, “a staunch Republican and a Puritan.”

  “That is how I should describe myself, if called upon,” said the so-called Captain Copthorne, with a courteous bow. “I am neither a fugitive prince, nor a malignant.”

  “The assurance is sufficient, captain,” rejoined the minister. “We have been labouring under a grievous error,” he added to the zealots with him, “and have no further business here.”

  As he turned to depart, he perceived Juliana standing at the back, and said to her in a low tone:

  “Ere long, I hope I may have the happy privilege of uniting you to one who deserves you.”

  Juliana blushed deeply. Without waiting for a reply, Mr. Meldrum and his company went down-stairs, and were shown out of the house by Harry Peters. When the details of the incident were related to the king, they caused him a good deal of amusement.

  Promising to return to Trent as soon as any arrangement had been made, through the instrumentality of Colonel Gunter, for the hire of a vessel, Colonel Philips, next morning, took leave of his majesty, and set out for Chichester, attended by the faithful Harry Peters.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XXI.

  HOW THE KING LEFT TRENT.

  A week elapsed, and Colonel Philips had not returned, nor had any tidings been received from him. The king’s life differed very little from that of a prisoner who enjoyed certain privileges, and whose friends were permitted to visit him. However, he no longer felt impatient, because he knew that every effort was being made for his deliverance. He did not read much, though Colonel Wyndham possessed a good library, which might have proved a great resource to him, had he been of a studious turn, but he occupied himself in various ways, and not unfrequently cooked his own dinner. In this self-imposed task he was assisted by Careless, and they flattered themselves they achieved great success in their little dinners. It is quite certain, however, that these repasts would not have been half so good as they were, if the chief part of the work had not been done in the kitchen. Mr. Langton used generally to dine with them, and thought the repasts inimitable; but then, perhaps, he was no judge. No more troopers appeared, for ever since Juliana’s conversion, Mr. Meldrum had thrown a protecting wing over the house. The inmates were no more disturbed by fanatical and inquisitive villagers.

  Such was pretty nearly the daily routine at Trent during Charles’s enforced sojourn there. That it was enforced will account for his not being entirely happy.

  At length the welcome summons came. Altogether, Charles had been a fortnight at Trent, when late in the evening of the 5th of October, Colonel Philips, accompanied by Harry Peters, returned from his mission. He had been at Rackton, and had consulted with Colonel Gunter, who expressed the most earnest desire to serve his majesty, and had used his best endeavours to hire a vessel at Little Hampton, but had failed, after spending some days in fruitless negotiation. He and Colonel Philips had since proceeded to Shoreham, and had seen a certain Captain Nicholas Tattersall — a very honest fellow, and an undoubted Royalist, though passing for a Roundhead — with whom there seemed every prospect of coming to terms.

  “I left Colonel Gunter at Brightelmstone, in Sussex, my liege,” pursued Philips, “which is only a few miles from Shoreham, and he will remain there till he has concluded an arrangement with Tattersall. When the affair is settled as satisfactorily as I believe it will be, he will come to Heale House, near Salisbury, and I have ventured to promise that he will find your majesty and Lord Wilmot there. Heale House, which is a very retired place, is the residence of Mrs. Hyde, a widow gentlewoman, and as faithful to the royal cause as loyalty can make her. The house is large, and the widow keeps up a good establishment, so that she can accommodate any number of guests. I have known Mrs. Hyde intimately for many years, and do not know a better or kinder-hearted woman — or one more hospitable. She will consider it a duty, as it will be her pride and pleasure, to place her house at your majesty’s disposal — so you need have no hesitation in going thither.”

  “I shall put Mrs. Hyde’s hospitality pretty severely to the test, for we shall form a large party,” observed Charles.

  “She will be delighted to receive your majesty and all your retinue,” said Colonel Philips.

  Arrangements were then made that Charles should set out for Heale on the following morning, accompanied by all those who had attended him on his expedition to Charmouth. Before his departure he took a kindly leave of Mrs. Wyndham and Lady Wyndham, thanking them warmly for their attention to him, and showing the utmost respect to the old lady. From Mr. Langton he received a blessing. Nor did he neglect to thank the servants who had contributed so materially to his comfort.

  Having bidden a grateful farewell to all, he mounted his horse, and Juliana, who was delighted with the idea of another expedition, took her accustomed seat on the pillion behind him. Besides the king and his fair companion, the party included Colonel Wyndham and Careless, and their new ally, Colonel Philips, and they were followed by the faithful Harry Peters. While passing through the gate Charles looked back, and saw old Lady Wyndham, with her daughter-in-law and Mr. Langton, standing at the door gazing after him, and waved his hand to them. He also noticed a group of women-servants collected near the entrance to the kitchen.

  By starting at an early hour, Colonel Wyndham hoped to escape observation, but he was disappointed. Mr. Meldrum was watching them from the churchyar
d, and seemed astonished at the number of the party. Thinking to remove his suspicions, Careless stopped to say a few words to him, and told him they were going to Weymouth. But the minister had some doubts, and being struck by Charles’s appearance, he got some of the villagers to follow the party.

  Meantime, the king and his retinue proceeded slowly through the village, as if they had no desire for concealment. In another minute the house was hidden from view by the tall elm-trees, and Charles saw no more of it.

  Their road led over the heights of Rowbarrow to Sandford Orcas. They then climbed a steep hill, and were crossing Horethorne Down, when they heard shouts behind them, and saw that they were followed by a band of peasants mounted on ragged steeds.

  Among this troop Colonel Wyndham at once recognised certain fanatical villagers from Trent, who had made themselves prominent on recent occasions, and his first impulse was to wait for their coming up, and chastise them, but on second thoughts he deemed it prudent to send Harry Peters to confer with them, while he and the others rode on.

  This was done, and the party had not reached the little village of Charleton Horethorne, when Harry Peters galloped back, and told them, with a laugh, that he had managed to get rid of the enemy. By what device he accomplished this he did not explain, nor did the colonel inquire.

  It was a fine bright October day, and the autumnal tints of the foliage were glorious. Skirting Charleton Hill, they passed North Cheriton, and proceeded through a wide and fertile valley on the picturesque banks of the little river Cale, to Wincanton, but they did not halt at this picturesque old town, their purpose being to dine at the George, at Mere, in Wiltshire — Dick Cheverel, the landlord of that excellent hostel, being well known to Colonel Philips as a perfectly honest fellow and a Royalist. There they knew they would be well entertained and run no risk.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XXII.

  HOW THEY DINED AT THE GEORGE AT MERE; AND HOW THE HOST RELATED HIS DREAM.

  On arriving at Mere, they alighted at the George, which turned out quite as comfortable as it had been represented. Dick Cheverel, the host, a stout, good-humoured personage, sat at the head of the table, chatting with them very cheerfully.

  The king took a place near the bottom of the table, but Juliana sat beside the host, who was very attentive to her. During a pause, Colonel Wyndham inquired of Cheverel if he had any news?

  “Little that I care to relate,” replied Dick. “Since the disaster at Worcester, I have heard nothing that gives me satisfaction. Fifteen hundred men have been shipped to Jersey and Guernsey to subjugate those faithful islands, but I am told that the men of Westminster are in great perplexity, for they cannot conceive what has become of the king.

  “Most likely his majesty is in London and in disguise,” remarked Colonel Philips.

  “That is the general opinion, but it is not mine,” said Dick. “Several houses, I understand, have been searched; but the searchers were not likely to find him.”

  “Why do you feel so confident on the point?” asked Juliana.

  “Because I firmly believe he is in France,” replied Dick. “At the very moment we are now talking of him, I am persuaded he is at the great palace of the Louvre, seated between his mother, Henrietta Maria, Queen of England, and his royal brother the Duke of York.”

  “Would to heaven it were true!” exclaimed Juliana.

  “It must be true, for I have dreamed it thrice,” said Dick.

  “Is that all your authority?” cried Juliana, smiling.

  “What better authority would you have, fair mistress?” he rejoined. “I’ll tell you a singular thing. A rebel officer who fought at Worcester came to the George the day before yesterday, and said to me, ‘I’ve had a remarkable dream, landlord, and it quite haunts me. I’ve dreamt that Charles Stuart is concealed in a house at Trent, in Somerset. I should know the house,’ he continued, ‘for it has a great patch of trees near it.’”

  “That was very odd!” exclaimed Juliana.

  “So I told him, and the idiot might have gone to Trent, if I had not recounted my thrice-repeated dream to him. When he had heard my relation he gave up all intention of searching for the king.”

  Everybody laughed, but the host maintained a grave face.

  “You are a sly fellow, Dick,” exclaimed Colonel Wyndham.

  When his services were no longer required at the upper end of the table, the host came and sat down by the king. Filling a couple of glasses to the brim with sack, he said:

  “Are you a friend to Cæsar?”

  “Ay, that I am,” replied Charles. “As much Cæsar’s friend as thou art.”

  “Then here’s a health to King Charles!” cried the loyal host, rising as he spoke. “If his majesty is not on the other side of the water, and safe from his enemies, let us hope he soon will be!”

  The toast was enthusiastically drunk by all the gentlemen present, who rose at the bidding of the host.

  Shortly afterwards the party again rose, but this time it was to take their departure, for though the wine was very good they could not make a long sitting.

  After assisting Juliana to her seat on the pillion, Dick said to the king, in a low voice:

  “Forgive me, sire, if I have presumed too much. I knew you from the first, and could not repress my feelings. May my dream soon become a reality!”

  While riding out of Mere, they gazed at the fine old church with its lofty tower, at the ancient market-house, and at the lofty mound on which were some vestiges of a castle, built in the reign of Henry III. When they had quitted the little town, the most striking object was a precipitous hill, about two miles distant, known as Whitesheet Camp.

  After crossing a wild and bleak waste full of earthworks, they reached Hindon, and then passed over downs, guarded by hills crowned by camps through Chilmark and Great Teffont, and through the old forest of Grovely, to Wishford.

  From Grovely Hill, on which are the remains of an ancient British town, they obtained a fine view of Salisbury Plain, with the lofty spire of the cathedral in the distance. Evening was coming on as they took their way across part of the plain, and the numerous barrows near which they rode, tinged by the radiance of the declining sun, had a very striking effect. But as soon as the sun had set, the picture became cold and grey, awakening a train of melancholy thoughts. The air, likewise, began to feel cold, so they quickened their pace, and soon afterwards arrived at their destination.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  HEALE HOUSE.

  Heale House was a large stone structure, with square turrets at the corners, pleasantly situated on the banks of the Avon.

  Colonel Philips had ridden on from Wishford to announce the approach of the party, so that when they arrived Mrs. Hyde came forth with her brother-in-law, Mr. Frederick Hyde, to give them welcome.

  Though Mrs. Hyde cannot be described as young, she was still very handsome, and being rich, it is somewhat surprising that she still remained a widow. In the presence of her servants, who were drawn up at the door, she took care that not a look or gesture should betray her knowledge of the king, though she recognised him the moment she beheld him. Her chief attentions were bestowed upon Juliana, to whom she seemed to take a great fancy.

  All the guests were quickly conducted to their rooms by the chamberlain, but that discriminating personage, not having received special orders from his mistress, and judging merely from personal appearance, assigned a very small room to his majesty.

  About two hours later the whole party was assembled at supper in a large room panelled with oak, and adorned with portraits of the Hyde family. The season was now sufficiently advanced to make a fire desirable, and the logs blazing on the hearth gave the room a very cheerful look. The repast was excellent and abundant, and the guests, whose appetites had been sharpened by the keen air of Salisbury Plain, did ample justice to it. Hitherto, as we have said, Mrs. Hyde had acted with the greatest discretion, but she was now so transported with delight by seeing the king
seated at her board that she could scarcely contain herself. Some excellent trout from the Avon were served, and she took care he had one of them. A roast bustard happened to be among the dishes — for that almost extinct bird then abounded on Salisbury Plain and the adjoining downs — and observing that the king seemed pleased with the dish, she ordered the carver to take him some more slices from the breast, with plenty of sauce. Subsequently, she sent him a couple of larks, though the others had only one each, and she quite surprised the butler by drinking to her humble guest in a glass of malvoisie, and sending him a silver flagon full of the same wine. After supper, Mr. Frederick Hyde, a lawyer, who eventually rose to be Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, had a long discourse with the king, not in the slightest degree suspecting who he was, and was astonished at the young man’s quickness and wit. Among the guests was Dr. Henchman, a prebend of Salisbury, who had come over to Heale on that day, but without acquainting the widow with the real object of his visit, which was to deliver a message to the king from Lord Wilmot. Observing the utmost caution, Dr. Henchman waited till Charles retired to his own room, and then had a private conference with him there. Let us state that after the Restoration Dr. Henchman was created Bishop of Salisbury, and in 1663 was translated to the see of London.

  Next morning Mrs. Hyde found an opportunity of saying a few words in private to the king during a stroll which they took together in the garden.

  “I find I was very indiscreet last night,” she said. “I allowed my loyalty to carry me too far, and have awakened the suspicions of my servants. To prevent any ill consequences, your majesty must apparently take leave this morning, but you can return privately at night, when I will have a safe hiding-place prepared for you. Then there will be no risk, for the servants will not be aware that you are in the house.”

  Charles entirely approved of the plan, but hoped he should not have to trouble her long, as he expected to receive an early communication from Colonel Gunter.

 

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