The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  Narrow loopholes commanded the drawbridge, and there was a mullioned window looking towards the outer court.

  Within the chamber were machines for raising and lowering the two portcullises.

  Seated on benches at a stout oak table, and making a hearty meal from a cold meat pasty were a dozen stalwart men. Occasionally they applied to a large jug of beer placed in the centre of the table, but these interruptions were not frequent.

  All these individuals wore buff coats, and belts from which hung powder- flasks and pouches containing bullets; while reared against the walls were long fowling-pieces and screwed guns evidently belonging to them.

  So occupied were the hungry marksmen with their meal, that they did not notice the entrance of Standish and his companion; and besides, the intruders were partly hidden by the portcullis which had been raised.

  “What hast thou done, Tom Thornhaugh?” asked a man whose back was towards them, of a brawny yeoman who sat opposite him. “I heard thee fire twice, and I suppose neither shot missed?”

  “Thou art right, Dick Bold,” replied Thornhaugh. “It grieves me to kill those poor country folk who are forced in the trenches — but I couldn’t help it. I wish I could get a shot at some of their officers — but they always contrive to keep out of reach.”

  “Not always,” rejoined Dick Bold, with a laugh. “I should have lodged a bullet in Captain Bootle’s brain this morning, had he not worn a combed headpiece.”

  “I have been on the look out for Colonel Rigby,” remarked another, whose name appeared to be Launce Walker; “but he was too cautious to come near.”

  “Ay, marry, Rigby would have been a feather in thy cap, Launce,” observed Dick Bold. “All the garrison would have rejoiced at his death, but thou say’st truly — he won’t expose himself to danger.”

  “Nay, we ought to give the devil himself his due,” observed another of the company. “Rigby doesn’t want courage.”

  “He doesn’t want cunning and malice,” said Dick Bold. “I verily believe it is he who has caused this place to be besieged. He hates our good lord because he trailed his friend Captain Birch under a hay-cart at Manchester. That was a good jest.”

  “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the whole company.

  “I wish Captain Standish would make Rigby a prisoner in his next sally,” remarked Thornhaugh.

  “We have got a prisoner worth a dozen of Rigby,” said Dick Bold.

  “You mean Colonel Rosworm,” remarked Launce Walker.

  “Ay,” rejoined Bold. “If he would only join us, we should have nothing to fear.”

  “We have nothing to fear as it is,” said Launce. “But no doubt Rosworm could give us great help.”

  At this juncture the person referred to made a movement to depart.

  “Let us go,” he said. “I have played the listéner too long.”

  But Standish detained him, and drew him forward.

  As soon as the men became aware of Rosworm’s presence they all arose.

  “I have heard what you have just said,” Rosworm remarked; “and I thank you for the good opinion you seem to entertain of me.”

  “Join us, colonel! join us!” they cried with one voice.

  “No, I cannot do that,” he replied. “But I will not fight against you if I can help it.”

  “You must not have the opportunity of doing so, colonel,” said Standish. “Now you are here, we must keep you with us.”

  “Ay, that we must,” cried the men.

  “But the countess has promised to exchange me,” rejoined Rosworm. “And you well know she will keep her word.”

  “Ay, if her ladyship has made you that promise no more need be said. But you may change your mind, colonel, and stay.”

  “I don’t think that likely,” he rejoined.

  “Then we must try and prevent your departure,” cried the men.

  “I feel no apprehension on that score,” laughed Rosworm, as he quitted the guard-room with Standish.

  CHAPTER XIII

  In what Manner a Letter was sent to Colonel Rosworm

  AS they returned through the court, they saw the countess and her daughters. She was attended by Major Farrington, Archdeacon Rutter, and one or two of the officers.

  “I must now leave you,” said Standish. “Her ladyship is about to ascend the Eagle Tower, and I must attend her.”

  “You should caution her not to expose herself too much,” said Rosworm. “At present we have no cannon that can reach the summit of that tower — but some bombards and a culverin are expected.”

  “I will tell her what you say,” rejoined Standish.

  And he proceeded towards the entrance of the Eagle Tower.

  Rosworm was still in the outer court, pacing to and fro, and thinking over what had just occurred, when a soldier halted beside him, and holding out his hand as he spoke, said, in a significant tone:

  “I have just picked up this ball, colonel. Have you dropped it?”

  Thus addressed, Rosworm looked at the man and saw that he held between his fingers and thumb, a wax ball about the size of a musket bullet.

  “Give it me,” he said, instantly comprehending what was meant.

  The man complied, and without waiting to be thanked, marched on.

  The incident did not occupy more than a minute, so that if noticed by the musketeers on the ramparts, it was not likely to excite suspicion.

  Rosworm continued his promenade for a short time longer, and then repairing to his lodging, which was in an outbuilding attached to the mansion, he broke the ball, and found — as he expected — that it contained a letter, written on very thin paper.

  He fancied the handwriting was that of Captain Bootle, but as the words were traced in pencil, he did not feel quite sure.

  The message was very brief, and ran thus:

  “Means will be found to effect your escape. Be prepared. You have a friend in the house.”

  “The offer is useless,” mentally ejaculated Rosworm, after he had read the missive. “I have promised the countess not to attempt flight, and I cannot break my word.”

  While he was revolving the matter, a tap was heard at the door, and Gertrude entered the chamber.

  “Do you find your captivity irksome, dear father?” she inquired. “You look melancholy.”

  “Were I not bound by my word, I need not remain here,” he replied. “Means of escape have just been offered me. Read that letter.”

  After casting her eyes over it, Gertrude said:

  “I will not ask how this letter was brought you, father; “but I am sorry to find we have traitors in the castle.”

  “Those traitors are my friends,” remarked Rosworm. “No word must be said of this matter to the countess.”

  “She ought to know it, father,” rejoined Gertrude.

  “She must not, child,” said Rosworm, sternly, and authoritatively. “It is sufficient that I shall not avail myself of the offer made me.”

  “But by the same means which would be employed for your flight a secret communication may be kept up with the enemy.”

  “That cannot be helped,” said her father.

  “I do not feel that I shall be doing my duty to the countess by keeping silence, father.”

  “Your duty is to me, child. I lay my commands upon you. You will not dare to disobey them.”

  Well knowing that remonstrance would be useless, Gertrude did not attempt it, but she said:

  “Would it were possible, father, that you could aid this noble lady to defend her mansion against the rebels!”

  Rosworm shook his head, but his looks showed that her entreaties had produced some impression.

  Seeing this, she flung herself on her knees before him, and exclaimed:

  “I will not rise till you grant my prayer! Aid her, I implore you, dear father! aid her!”

  “I cannot, daughter,” replied Rosworm. “My sympathies are with her, but I must not — cannot aid her. Besides,” he added, after a pause, “I do not think she n
eeds assistance.”

  “You give me hopes,” she cried, rising to her feet. “You are of opinion that the countess will triumph?”

  “From what I have seen since I came here I am convinced she can hold out till the Earl of Derby comes to her deliverance.”

  “May I tell her you have said so? It will give her hopes.”

  “As you please,” he replied. “It is really my opinion.”

  Just then, the door was opened, and Standish entered the room.

  “I bring you good news, Colonel Rosworm,” he said. “You are no longer a prisoner.”

  “I will not suppose for a moment that you are jesting with me, Captain Standish,” rejoined Rosworm. “But I am scarcely able to credit the intelligence.”

  “What has happened?” asked Gertrude, equally astonished.

  “Your father has been ransomed,” replied Standish. “A letter has just been brought from Sir Thomas Fairfax, offering a large sum as a ransom for Colonel Rosworm, and the countess has accepted the offer. You are therefore free, and can return with the messenger. Her ladyship has sent me to convey the intelligence to you, well knowing the errand would be agreeable to me.”

  “I thank you heartily, Captain Standish,” rejoined Rosworm. “The intelligence is wholly unexpected on my part, for I need scarcely say I have had no communication with Sir Thomas Fairfax, and I did not think he valued my services so highly as to offer a ransom for my liberation.”

  “Then you will depart at once, father,” cried Gertrude, “and again join the ranks of the enemy.”

  “I shall not depart without taking leave of the countess,” rejoined Rosworm, “and thanking her for the generous treatment I have experienced.”

  “Her ladyship has descended from the Eagle Tower, and is now on the parade,” said Standish “I will conduct you to her.”

  Having no preparations to make for his departure, Rosworm at once accompanied Standish to the outer court, where they found the countess and her usual attendants.

  At some little distance stood the Parliamentary officer who had brought the message from Sir Thomas Fairfax.

  “Colonel Rosworm is come to take leave of your ladyship,” said Standish, leading the somewhile prisoner forward.

  Rosworm bowed deeply, and in accents that bespoke his sincerity, thanked the countess for the great kindness she had shown him.

  “Rarely has a prisoner of war been treated as I have been,” he said ; “and I shall ever entertain a grateful sense of your ladyship’s kindness. But I fear I shall never be able to requite it. May I ask if you have made any stipulations in regard to my release?”

  “None whatever,” she replied. “You are free to act as you think proper. Had I made any bargain I would have consulted you.”

  “Such noble conduct is worthy of you, madam,” said Rosworm. “You set an example to your enemies which they will do well to follow.”

  With another profound salutation, he turned to depart.

  After bidding adieu to his daughter, he joined the officer, who was waiting for him, and they were conducted by Standish and a guard to the gate.

  On the way hither, they encountered Captain Chisenhale and Captain Ogle. Both of them bowed to him and the former remarked:

  “We shall be glad to see you here again, colonel, in the same character.”

  In another minute Rosworm had passed through the wicket at the side of the gate, crossed the drawbridge, and was riding with the messenger and a sergeant who had accompanied him on his errand towards the camp.

  On the way thither, he looked back once or twice at the beleaguered mansion, but made no remark, nor did he answer any questions put to him by his companion.

  CHAPTER XIV

  A Traitor punished

  A MIST rendered it very dark that night, and one of the sentinels stationed on the ramparts at the back of the castle, fancying he heard some one swimming across the moat, fired in the direction of the sound, but missed his aim owing to the obscurity.

  It was subsequently discovered that one of the soldiers — the same who had delivered the secret letter to Rosworm — had got out at the postern gate, and favoured by the darkness had effected his escape in the manner described.

  This circumstance being mentioned to Standish, caused him some uneasiness, for though he could not account for the man’s flight at that juncture, he felt certain he was a traitor.

  After some discussion with Captain Chisenhale and Lieutenant Bretergh, these two officers resolved to anticipate any attack that might be made by the enemy, and give them another alarm in the trenches.

  Accordingly, about an hour later accompanied by thirty musketeers, they proceeded to the postern tower, part of which stood on the further side of the moat, and beyond the palisades, and issuing forth from a small door strongly cased with iron, marched swiftly and silently towards the trenches.

  But they were not so successful as on the previous occasion. The enemy were more on the alert, and had placed sentinels on the breastwork.

  Though these men could not distinguish the sallying party, they were warned of their approach by the lighted matches carried by the musketeers, and gave the alarm; whereupon their comrades instantly quitted the trenches, and speeded towards an adjoining wood; whither they were chased by Chisenhale and his company.

  Sheltered by the trees, the fugitives sustained little loss, and only three or four were killed.

  One prisoner was likewise made, and this proved to be Ralph Thorold, the man who had just escaped from the garrison.

  When brought back to the mansion, and interrogated by Major Farrington, Thorold confessed that he had been in communication with Captain Bootle, but refused to declare how the letters had been brought to him.

  Adjudged to die the death of a traitor, he was hanged at an early hour next morning from the battlements of the postern tower in full view of the trenches.

  CHAPTER XV

  How a Letter sent by the Earl of Derby to Fairfax was brought by Captain Ashhurst to the Countess

  NEXT morning, Captain Ashhurst rode with a flag of truce to the gates of the castle, and sought an interview of the countess; stating that he had an important message to deliver to her from Sir Thomas Fairfax.

  Though wearied out with propositions ending in nothing, her ladyship consented to receive him, and the messenger was conducted by Standish to the presence- chamber, where he found her with Major Farrington and Archdeacon Rutter.

  Captain Ashhurst’s manner was extremely respectful, and offered a marked contrast to the insolent deportment that generally characterised a Parliamentary officer.

  Bowing to the countess, he informed her that Sir Thomas Fairfax had just received a despatch from the Earl of Derby, and had sent it for her perusal.”

  “It is here, madam,” he continued, handing it to her, “and it is the general’s opinion that this letter will have more weight with you than any message he could send.”

  “Let me see it,” said the countess. “Ay, truly, it is from my lord, and sent from Castle Rushen,”

  And she could not help pressing her lips to the signature.

  Seeing her so much moved, Captain Ashhurst augured well for the success of his mission.

  But as she read the letter, her aspect entirely changed, and she looked stern and resolved.

  After showing the letter to her advisers, who returned it without a word, she said:

  “His lordship writes in error. Unaware of the propositions already made by Sir Thomas Fairfax, and of my rejection of them, he desires an honourable and free passage for myself and my children, being unwilling to expose us to the danger and suffering of a lengthened siege.”

  “Exactly so, madam,” replied Captain Ashhurst; “and I am instructed by Sir Thomas Fairfax to say that if your ladyship wills it, he will readily grant his lordship’s request.”

  “Tell Sir Thomas Fairfax I am much beholden to him for his consideration in referring the matter to me,” she rejoined. “But I must beg that he will hence
forth treat with my lord. When I receive my husband’s express commands I will obey them, be they what they may. But till I am assured that his lordship desires me to yield up this castle, I will neither quit it, nor make any terms for its surrender.”

  Both Major Farrington and Doctor Rutter looked at her approvingly, but neither spoke.

  “Pardon me, madam,” said Captain Ashhurst, “if I venture to observe that the Earl of Derby’s wishes are plainly conveyed in this letter. Had not his lordship felt that you ought to surrender, he would not have written in these terms to the general. For that reason Sir Thomas has sent you the letter.”

  “And I thank him again for his courtesy, and for choosing you as his messenger,” replied the countess. “Take back the letter to your general, and tell him that till I learn my lord’s pleasure I abide where I am, and wait the event in full confidence of Heaven’s support.”

  Seeing that the audience was at an end, Ashhurst retired, and was conducted to the gate by Standish.

  “Yours is a noble lady,” he said; “and it is impossible not to sympathise with her. For her own sake I wish she would surrender.”

  “She has nothing to fear,” rejoined Standish.

  CHAPTER XVI

  How two Pieces of Ordnance were seized by Standish

  ON that night, despite a constant fire from the postern tower, the besiegers contrived to bring up a demi-cannon and a culverin, and placed them on the summit of the rising ground beyond the moat.

  Next morning the cannoniers on the opposite towers tried ineffectually to dislodge these pieces of ordnance. Several shots were fired from the newly- erected battery against the walls of the mansion, but without doing any material damage.

  Afterwards a higher range was taken. Two or three battlements were broken, and a musketeer who imprudently showed himself on the ramparts was killed.

  This was regarded as a great achievement by the enemy, who raised a loud shout; but their exultation was soon over, for within a quarter of an hour two of the cannoniers were killed.