Friends, though divided: A Tale of the Civil War

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XXV.

  A PLOT OVERHEARD.

  As the gypsy ended her warning she sprang forward, saying, "Follow me,for your life, sir." Harry did not hesitate. He heard several footstepscoming down the lane, and drawing his sword he followed his guide at arun. As he did so there was a shout among the men behind him and theseset off in hot pursuit. Harry kept close to the girl, who turned downanother lane even more narrow than that they were leaving. A few pacesfurther she stopped, opened a door and entered. Harry followed her inand she closed the door behind her.

  "Hush!" she whispered. "There are men here as bad as those without. Takeoff your shoes."

  Harry did as directed. He was in pitch darkness. Taking him by the hand,the girl led him forward for some distance.

  "There is a staircase here," she whispered.

  Still holding his hand, she began to mount the stairs. As they passedeach landing Harry heard the voices of men in the rooms on either side.At last they arrived at the top of the house. Here she opened a door,and led Harry into a room.

  "Are you here, mother?" she asked.

  There was no answer. The girl uttered an exclamation of thankfulness;then, after groping about, she found a tinder-box, and struck a light.

  "You are safe here for the present. This is my room, where I live withmy mother. At least," she sighed, "she calls herself my mother, and isthe only one I have known."

  "Is it possible," Harry asked in surprise, "that one like yourself canlive in such an abode as this?"

  "I am safe here," she answered. "There are five men of my tribe in thenext room, and fierce and brutal as are the men of these courts, none ofthem would care to quarrel with the gypsies. But now I have got youhere, how am I to get you away?"

  "If the gypsies are so feared, I might go out with them," Harry said.

  "Alas!" the girl answered, "they are as had as the others. And even ifthey were disposed to aid you for the kindness you have shown me, Idoubt if they could do so. Assuredly they would not run the risk ofthwarting the cutthroats here for the sake of saving you."

  "Could you go and tell the watch?" Harry asked.

  "The watch never comes here," the girl replied, shaking her head. "Werethey to venture up these lanes it would be like entering a hive of bees.This is an Alsatia--a safe refuge for assassins and robbers."

  "I have got myself into a nice mess," Harry said. "It seems to me I hadbetter sally out and take my chance."

  "Look," the girl said, going to the window and opening it.

  Peering out, Harry saw below a number of men with swords and knivesdrawn. One or two had torches, and they were examining every doorway andcourt. Outside the window ran a parapet.

  "They will search like hounds," the girl continued. "They must know thatyou have not gone far. If they come here you must take to the parapet,and go some distance along. Now, I must try and find some disguise foryou."

  At this moment the door opened, and an old woman entered. She utteredan exclamation of astonishment at seeing Harry, and turning angrily tothe girl, spoke to her in the gypsy dialect. For two or three minutesthe conversation continued in that language; then the old woman turnedto Harry, and said in English:

  "My daughter tells me that you have got into a broil on her behalf.There are few gentlemen who draw sword for a gypsy. I will do my best toaid you, but it will be difficult to get a gallant like yourself out ofthis place."

  Her eye fell covetously upon the jewel in Harry's hat. He noticed theglance.

  "Thanks, dame," he said; "I will gladly repay your services. Will youaccept this token?" And removing the jewel from the hat, he offered itto her.

  The girl uttered an angry exclamation as the old woman seized it, andafter examining it by the candle light, placed it in a small ironcoffer. Harry felt he had done wisely, for the old woman's face bore amuch warmer expression of good-will than had before characterized it.

  "You cannot leave now," she said. "I heard as I came along that awell-dressed gallant had been seen in the lanes, and every one's mouthis on water. They said that they thought he had some woman with him, butI did not dream it was Zita. You cannot leave to-night; to-morrow I willget you some clothes of my son's, and in these you should be able toescape without detection."

  Very slowly the hours passed. The women at times talked together inRomaic, while Harry, who had possession of the only chair in the room,several times nodded off to sleep. In the morning there was a movementheard in the next room, and the old woman went in there.

  "Surely that woman cannot be your mother?" Harry said to the girl.

  "She is not," she answered. "I believe that I was stolen as a child;indeed, they have owned as much. But what can I do? I am one of them.What can a gypsy do? We are good for nothing but to sing and to steal."

  "If I get free from this scrape," Harry said, "you may be sure thatshall not be ungrateful, and if you long to leave this life, I cansecure you a quiet home in England with my father."

  The girl clasped her hands in delight.

  "Oh, that would be too good!" she exclaimed. "Too good; but I fear itcan never be."

  She put her fingers to her lips, as the door again opened. The old womanentered, carrying some clothes.

  "Here," she said; "they have gone out; put these on, Zita and I will goout and see if the coast is clear."

  Harry, smiling to himself at the singularity of his having twice todisguise himself as a gypsy, rapidly changed his clothes. Presently theold woman returned.

  "Quick," she exclaimed; "I hear that the news of the riot in thedrinking-house has got about this morning, and it is known that anEnglishman, something like the one seen in the lanes, took Zita's part,and there are suspicions that it was she who acted as his guide. Theyhave been roughly questioning us. I told her to go on to avoidsuspicion, while I ran back. You cannot stir out now, and I heard a talkof searching our rooms. Come, then, we may find a room unoccupied below;you must take refuge there for the present."

  Harry still retained his sword, incongruous as it was with his attire,but he had determined to hide it under his clothes, so that, ifdetected, he might be able at least to sell his life. Taking it in hishand, he followed the old woman downstairs. She listened at each door,and continued downward until she reached the first floor.

  "I can hear no one here," she said, listening at a door. "Go up a fewsteps; I will knock. If any one is there I can make some excuse."

  She knocked, but there was no answer. Then she drew from her pocket apiece of bent wire, and inserted it in the keyhole.

  "We gypsies can enter where we will," she said, beckoning Harry to enteras the door opened. "Wait quiet here till I come for you. The road willbe clear then." So saying, she closed the door behind him, and againshot the bolt.

  Harry felt extremely uncomfortable. Should the owner of the room return,he would be taken for a thief, although, as he thought, looking roundthe room, there was little enough to steal. It was a large room, withseveral truckle beds standing against the walls. In the center was atable, upon which were some mugs, horns, and empty bottles, with somedirty cards scattered about. The place smelled strongly of tobacco, andbenches lying on the ground showed that the party of the night beforehad ended in a broil, further evidence to which was given by stains ofblood on one of the beds, and by a rag saturated with blood, which laybeside it. At one side of the room was a door, giving communication intothe next apartment. Scarcely had Harry entered when he heard voicesthere, and was surprised to find that the speakers were English.

  "I tell you I'm sick of this," one of the speakers said. "I might be aswell hanged at home as starved here."

  "You might enlist," another voice said, in sneering tones. "Gallantsoldiers are welcome in the Low Countries."

  "You'd best keep your sneering tongue between your lips," the other saidangrily. "If I don't care for fighting in the field, I can use a knifeat a pinch, as you know full well. You will carry your gibes too farwith me some day. No," he went on more calmly, after a pause, "I sh
allgo back to England next week, after Marmaduke Harris and his gang havefinished Oliver. The country will be turned so topsy-turvy that therewill be no nice inquiry into bygones, and at any rate I can keep out ofLondon."

  "Yes, it will be wise to do that," the other said, since that littleaffair when the mercer and his wife in Cheap were found with theirthroats cut, and you--"

  "Fire and furies! John Marlow, do you want three inches of steel in yourribs?"

  "By no means!" the other answered. "You have become marvelouslystraightlaced all at once. As you know, I have been concerned in as manyaffairs as you have. Aha! I have had a merry time of it!"

  "And may again," the other said. "Noll once dead, there will be goodtimes for us again. It is a pity that you and I were too well known tohave a hand in the job. Dost think there is any chance of a failure?"

  "None," the other replied. "It is in good hands. Black Harry has bribeda cook wench, who will open the back door. They say he was to return toLondon this week, and if so Sunday is fixed for the affair. Five daysyet, and say another week for the news to get here. In a fortnight wewill be on our way to England. There, I am thirsty, and we left thebottle in the next room. We had a late night of it with the boys there."

  During this conversation, to which Harry listened breathlessly, he hadheard the tramp of feet going upstairs, and just as they finishedspeaking these had descended again. A moment later the door between thetwo rooms opened, and a man in the faded finery of a Royalist gentlemanentered.

  "Fires and furies!" he exclaimed. "Whom have we here? Marlow, here isan eavesdropper or a thief. We will slit his weasand. Aha!" he said,gazing fixedly at Harry, "you are Colonel Furness. I know you. You hadme flogged the day before Worcester, for helping myself to an oldwoman's purse. It is my turn now."

  Joined by his fellow ruffian he fell upon Harry, but they were no matchfor the Royalist colonel. After a few rapid thrusts and parries he ranhis first assailant through the body and cut down the man called Marlow,with a sweeping blow which nearly cleft his head asunder.

  Scarcely was the conflict ended when the door opened, and the old gypsyentered. She started at seeing the bodies of the two ruffians.

  "I have been attacked," Harry said briefly, "and have defended myself."

  "It is no business of mine," the old woman remarked. "When I have guidedyou out I will come back again. It's strange if there's not somethingworth picking up. Now, pull your hat well over your eyes and follow me."

  Closing and locking the door again, she led the way downstairs.

  "Do not walk so straight and stiff," she said. "Slouch your shoulders,and stoop your head. Now."

  Harry sallied out into the lane, keeping by the side of his guide, withhis head bent forward, and his eyes on the ground, walking, as far as hecould, with a listless gait. The old woman continued to chatter to himin Romaic. There were many people about in the lane, but none paid anyheed to them. Harry did not look up, but turned with his guide downseveral lanes, until they at length emerged on the quays. Saying shewould call next day at his hotel for the reward he had promised her, sheleft him, and Harry, with his head full of the plot against Cromwell'slife, crossed at once to the vessels by the quay.

  "Is any ship sailing for the Thames to-day?" he asked.

  "Yes," the sailor said. "The Mary Anne is just hoisting her anchor now,out there in midstream. You will be but just in time, for the anchor'sunder her foot."

  Harry sprang into a boat and told the waterman to row to the ship. Thelatter stared in astonishment at the authoritative manner in which thisgypsy addressed him, but Harry thrust his hand into his pocket, andshowed him some silver.

  "Quick, man," he said, "for she is moving. You will have double fare toput me on board."

  The man pulled vigorously, and they were soon alongside the brig.

  "Halloo! what now?" the captain said, looking over the side.

  "I want a passage to England, and will pay you your own price."

  "You haven't been killing any one, have you?" the captain asked. "I don'twant to have trouble when I come back here, for carrying offmalefactors."

  "No, indeed," Harry said, as he lightly leaped on the deck. "I am SirHarry Furness, though I may not look it, and am bound to England onurgent business. It is all right, my good fellow, and here is earnestmoney for my passage," and he placed two pieces of gold in the captain'shand.

  "That will do," the captain said. "I will take you."

  Harry went to the side.

  "Here, my man, is your money, and a crown piece beside. Go to the Hoteldes Etoiles and ask for the English officer who is there lying sick.Tell him Colonel Furness has been forced to leave for England at amoment's notice, but will be back by the first ship."

  The man nodded, and rowed back to shore as the Mary Anne, with her sailshoisted, ran down the river.

  Never did a voyage appear longer to an anxious passenger than did thatof the Mary Anne to England. The winds were light and baffling, and attimes the Mary Anne scarce moved through the water. Harry had no lovefor Cromwell. Upon the contrary, he regarded him as the deadliest enemyof the king, and moreover personally hated him for the cruel massacre ofDrogheda. In battle he would have gladly slain him, but he wasdetermined to save him from assassination. He felt the man to be a greatEnglishman, and knew that it was greatly due to his counsels that solittle English blood had been shed upon the scaffold. Most of all, hethought that his assassination would injure the royal cause. The timewas not yet ripe for a restoration. England had shown but lately thatthere existed no enthusiasm for the royal cause. At Cromwell's death thechief power would fall into the hands of fanatics more dangerous andmore violent than he. His murder would be used as a weapon for awholesale persecution of the Royalists throughout the land, and wouldcreate such a prejudice against them that the inevitable reaction infavor of royalty would be retarded for years. Full of these thoughts,Harry fretted and fumed over the slow progress of the Mary Anne. Late onSaturday night she entered the mouth of the Thames, and anchored untilthe tide turned. Before daybreak she was on her way, and bore up on thetide as far as Gravesend, when she had again to anchor. Harry obtained aboat and was rowed to shore. In his present appearance, he did not liketo go to one of the principal inns for a horse, but entering a small oneon the outskirts of the place, asked the landlord if he could procurehim a horse.

  "I am not what I seem," he said, in answer to his host's look ofsurprise. "But I have urgent need to get to London this evening. I willpay well for the horse, and will leave this ring with you as aguarantee for his safe return."

  "I have not a horse myself," the landlord said, with more respect thanhe had at first shown; "but I might get one from my neighbor HarryFletcher, the butcher. Are you willing to pay a guinea for his use?Fletcher will drive you himself."

  Harry agreed to the sum, and a quarter of an hour later the man, with alight horse and cart, came to the door.

  "You are a strange-looking carle," he said, "to be riding on a Sunday inhaste; I scarce like being seen with thee."

  "I have landed but an hour ago," Harry said, "and can buy no clothesto-day; but if you or mine host here, who is nearer my size, have adecent suit which you can sell me, I will pay you double the sum itcost."

  The landlord at once agreed to the terms, and five minutes later Harry,clad in the sober garb of a decent tradesman, mounted the cart. Thehorse was not a fast one, and the roads were bad. It was nigh sixo'clock before they reached London. Paying Fletcher the sum agreed upon,Harry walked rapidly westward. Cromwell was abiding in a house in PallMall. Upon Harry arriving there he was asked his business.

  "The general is ill," the servant said, "and can see no one."

  "I must see him," Harry urged. "It is a matter of the extremestimportance."

  "See him you cannot," the man repeated, "and it were waste of words totalk further on the matter. Dost think that, even were he well, thegeneral, with all the affairs of the Commonwealth on his shoulders, hastime to see every gossiping citizen w
ho would have speech with him?"

  Harry slipped a gold piece into the man's hand.

  "It is useless," the man said. "The general is, as I truly told thee,ill."

  Harry stood in despair, "Could you gain me speech with the general'swife?"

  "Ay," the man said. "I might do that. What name shall say?"

  "She would not know my name. Merely say that one wishes to speak to heron a matter nearly touching the safety of the general."

  "Hadst thou said that at once," the man grumbled, "I might have admittedyou before. There are many rumors of plots on the part of the malignantsagainst the life of the general. I will take your message to MadamCromwell, and she can deal with it as she will."

  The man was absent for a few minutes. Then he returned with an officer.

  "Can you tell me," the latter asked, "what you have to reveal?"

  "No," Harry replied, "I must speak with the general himself."

  "Beware," the officer said sternly, "that you trifle not. The general issick, and has many things on his mind; 'twill be ill for you if youdisturb him without cause."

  "The cause is sufficient," Harry said. "I would see him in person."

  Without a word the officer turned and led the way to a room upstairs,where Cromwell was sitting at a table, His wife was near him. A Biblelay open before him. Cromwell looked steadily at Harry.

  "I hear that you have a matter of importance to tell me, young man, andone touching my safety. I know that there are many who thirst for myblood. But I am in the hands of the Lord, who has so far watched overHis servant. If there be truth in what you have to tell you will berewarded."

  "I seek for no reward," Harry said. "I have gained knowledge of a plotagainst your life. Do you wish that I should speak in the presence ofthis officer?"

  "Assuredly," the general said.

  "Briefly, then, I have arrived from Hamburg but now to give you warningof a matter which came to my ears. I overheard, how it matters not, aconversation between two rascals who gave themselves out as Royalists,but who were indeed rather escaped criminals, to the effect that men hadgone over thence to England with the intention of killing you. The plotwas to come off to-night, Whether there be any change in thearrangements or no I cannot say, but the matter was, as they said, fixedfor to-night. One of the women servants has been bribed to open the backentrance and to admit them there, More than this I know not."

  "You speak, sir, as one beyond your station," Cromwell said; "andmethinks I know both your face and figure, which are not easilyforgotten when once seen."

  "It matters not who I am," Harry replied, "so that the news I bring betrue. I am no friend of yours, but a servant of King Charles. Though Iwould withstand you to the death in the field, I would not that a lifelike yours should be cut short by assassination; or that the royal causeshould be sullied by such a deed, the dishonor of which, though plannedand carried out by a small band of desperate partisans, would yet, inthe eyes of the world, fall upon all who followed King Charles."

  "You are bold, sir," Cromwell said. "But I wonder not, for I know younow. We have met, so far as I know, but once before. That was afterDrogheda, where you defended the church, and where I spared your life atthe intercession of my chaplain. I heard of you afterward as having, bya desperate enterprise, escaped, and afterward captured a ship withprisoners; and as having inflicted heavy loss and damage upon thesoldiers of Parliament. You fought at Dunbar and Worcester, and, if Imistake not, incurred the enmity of the Earl of Argyll."

  "I am Sir Harry Furness," Harry said calmly; "his majesty having beenpleased to bestow upon me the honor of knighthood. Nor are you mistakentouching the other matters, since you yourself agreed at the lonelyhouse on the moor to hand me over to Colonel Campbell, as his price forbetraying the post I commanded. That matter, as you may remember, turnedout otherwise than had been expected. I am not ashamed of my name, norhave I any fear of its being known to you. I have come over to do youservice, and fear not harm at your hands when on such business."

  "Why then did you not tell me at once?" Cromwell asked.

  "Simply because I seek no favor at your hands. I would not that youshould think that Harry Furness sought to reconcile himself with theCommons, by giving notice of a plot against your life. I am intending tostart for Virginia and settle there, and would not stoop to sue foramnesty, though I should never see Furness Hall or England again."

  Harry spoke in a tone of haughty frankness, which carried convictionwith it.

  "I doubt you not," Cromwell said. "You have been a bitter foe to theCommons, Colonel Furness, but it is not of men like you that we need beafraid. You meet us fairly in the field, and fight us loyally andhonorably. It is the tricksters, the double-dealers, and the traitors,the men who profess to be on our side but who burrow in the dark againstus, who trouble our peace. In this matter I am greatly beholden to you.Now that you have given us warning of the plot, it will be met ifattempted. But should these men's hearts fail them, or for any othercause the attempt be laid aside, I shall be none the less indebted toyou. I trust, Colonel Furness, that you will not go to the plantations.England needs honest men here. There is a great work yet to be donebefore happiness and quiet are restored; and we need all wise and goodmen in the counsels of the state. Be assured that you are free to returnand dwell with the Cavalier, your father, at your pleasure. He drewaside from the strife when he saw that the cause he fought for washopeless, and none have interfered with him. Charles will, methinks,fight no more in England. His cause is lost, and wise men will adaptthemselves to the circumstances. Let me know where you lodge to-night.You will hear further from me to-morrow."

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  REST AT LAST.

  Harry slept at an inn in Westminster, and the next morning on going downto his breakfast, he found people much excited, a rumor having goneabout that an attack had been made upon Cromwell's house during thenight, and that several had been killed, but no harm done to thegeneral. An hour afterward a messenger brought word that GeneralCromwell wished to see Colonel Furness. After his breakfast Harry had atonce gone out and purchased clothes suitable to a country gentleman; inthese he proceeded to the general, and was at once shown up to his room.

  "Your news was trustworthy, Colonel Furness, and Oliver Cromwell oweshis life to you. Soon after midnight one of the serving wenches openedthe back door, and eight men entered. Had no watch been set, they woulddoubtless have reached my room unobserved, by the staircase which leadsfrom that part of the house. As it was, I had a guard in waiting, andwhen the men were fairly inside they fell upon them. The soldiers weretoo quick with them, being hot at the plot which was intended against mylife, and all were killed, together with the wench who admitted them,who was stabbed by one of the men at the first alarm, thinking doubtlessshe had betrayed them. I hear that none of them have the air ofgentlemen, but are clearly broken men and vagabonds. The haste of mysoldiers has prevented me from getting any clew as to those who set themon, but I am sure that no English gentleman, even although devoted tothe cause of Charles Stuart, would so plot against my life. And now,sir, I thank you heartily for the great service you have rendered me. Mylife is, I think, precious to England, where I hope to do some good workbefore I die. I say only in return that henceforth you may come and goas you list; and I hope yet that you will sit by me in Parliament, andaid me to set things in England in order. Do not take this, sir, as inany way a recompense for saving my life. The war is over; a few of thosewho had troubled, and would always trouble the peace of England, havebeen executed. Against the rest we bear no malice. They are free toreturn to their homes and occupations as they list, and so long as theyobey the laws, and abstain from fresh troubles and plots, none willmolest them. But, sir, in order that no molestation or vexation mayoccur to you, here is a free pass, signed by General Fairfax and two ofthe commissioners, saying that you are at liberty to go or come and tostay where you please, without hindrance or molestation from any."

  Harry took the document, bowed, and withdre
w.

  "It is a thousand pities," he said to himself, "that his majesty theking has not somewhat of this man's quality. This is a strong man, and atrue. He may have his faults--ay, he has them--he is ambitions, he isfar more fanatical for his religion than was Charles I. for his. He isfar more absolute, far more domineering than was King Charles. Were hemade king to-morrow, as I hear he is like enough to be, he would trampleupon the Parliament and despise its will infinitely more than anyEnglish king would ever have dared to do. But for all that he is a greatman, honest, sincere, and, above all, to be trusted. Who can say thatfor the Stuarts?"

  Upon the day of his arrival Harry had written to Jacob telling him thecause of his sudden departure, and promising to return by the firstship, He hesitated now whether he should sail at once, or go down to seehis father, but he determined that it would be best, at any rate in thefirst place, to return to Hamburg and look after his companion, and thento come over to see his father, before carrying out his intention ofproceeding to Virginia. A ship would, he found, be sailing in threedays, and he wrote to his father telling him that he had been in Londonfor a day or two, but was forced by the illness of Jacob to return atonce; but that upon his friend's recovery he would come back to Abingdonfor a short time before leaving. He arrived at Hamburg withoutadventure. On reaching the hotel he was informed that Jacob wasdelirious, and that his life was despaired of. The rascally boatmancould not have given the message with which he had been charged, sinceJacob, upon the day after he was first missed, had risen from his bed,and insisted on going in search of him. He had, after many inquiries,learned that one answering to his description had taken part in a frayin a drinking-house--interfering to protect a Bohemian singer frominsult. Beyond this nothing could be heard of him. He had not been seenin the fray in the street, when several of the rioters had been capturedand carried off by the watch, and some supposed that he might have leftthe place at the back, in which case it was feared that he might havebeen fallen upon and assassinated by the ruffians in the low quarterlying behind the drinking hall. Jacob had worked himself into a state ofhigh fever by his anxiety, and upon returning to the hotel had become soviolent that they were forced to restrain him. He had been bled andblistered, but had remained for a fortnight in a state of violent feverand delirium. This had now somewhat abated, but he was in such a weakstate that the doctors feared the worst.

  The return of Harry did more for him than all the doctors of Hamburg. Heseemed at once to recognize his voice, and the pressure of his handsoothed and calmed him. He presently fell into a deep sleep, in which helay for twelve hours, and on opening his eyes at once recognized hisfriend. His recovery now was rapid, and in a week he was able to sit up.

  One morning the servant told Harry that a gentleman wished to speak tohim, and a moment after his father entered. With a cry of delight fatherand son flew into each other's arms. It was four years since they hadmet, and both were altered much. The colonel had aged greatly, whileHarry had grown into a broad and powerful man.

  "My dear father, this is an unexpected pleasure indeed," Harry said,when the first burst of delight was over. "Did you not get my letterfrom London, saying that I hoped shortly to be with you?"

  "From London!" the colonel exclaimed, astonished. "No, indeed; I havereceived no letter save that which your boy brought me. We started aweek later for Southampton, where we were detained nigh ten days for aship."

  "And who is the _we_, father?" Harry asked anxiously.

  "Ah," the old man said, "now you are in a hurry to know. Who should itbe but Master Rippinghall and a certain young lady?"

  "Oh, father, has Lucy really come?"

  "Assuredly she has," Colonel Furness said, "and is now waiting in aprivate room below with her brother, for Sir Harry. I have notcongratulated you yet, my boy, on your new dignity."

  "And you really consent to my marriage, sir?"

  "I don't see that I could help it," the colonel said, "since you hadset your mind on it, especially as when I came to inquire I found theyoung lady was willing to go to Virginia. But we must talk of that anon.Yes, Harry, you have my full consent. The young lady is not quite of therank of life I should have chosen for you; but ranks and classes are alltopsy-turvy in England at present, and when we are ruled over by abrewer, it would be nice indeed to refuse to take a wool-stapler'ssister for wife. But seriously, Harry, I am well contented. I knewlittle of the young lady except by common report, which spoke of her asthe sweetest and kindest damsel in Abingdon. But now I have seen her, Iwonder not at your choice. During the fortnight we have been together Ihave watched her closely, and I find in her a rare combination ofgentleness and firmness. You have won her heart, Harry, though how shecan have kept thee in mind all this time is more than I can tell. Herbrother tells me that he placed no pressure upon her either for oragainst, though he desired much for your sake, and from the love he boreyou, that she should accept of your suit. Now you had better go down,and learn from her own lips how it stands with her."

  It need not to describe the meeting between Harry and his old friends.Herbert was warm and cordial as of old. Lucy was but little changedsince Harry had seen her four years before, save that she was more fairand womanly.

  "Your letter gave me," Herbert said, "a mixed feeling of pleasure andpain. I knew that my little sister has always looked upon you as a heroof romance, and though I knew not that as a woman her heart still turnedto you, yet she refused so sharply and shrewishly all the suitors whocame to her, that I suspected that her thoughts of you were more than amere child's fancy. When your letter came I laid no pressure upon her,just as in other cases I have held aloof, and indeed have gained someill-will at the hands of old friends because I would not, as herbrother, and the head of the family, lay stress upon her. I read yourletter to her, and she at first said she was ready to obey my wishes inthe matter, and to go with you to Virginia if I bade her. I said that insuch a matter it was her will and not mine which I wished to consult,and thus pressed into a corner, she owned that she would gladly go withyou."

  "Harry," the girl said, "for my tongue is not as yet used to your newtitle, under other circumstances I should have needed to be wooed andwon like other girls. But seeing how strangely you are placed, and thatyou were about to start across the sea, to be absent perhaps for manyyears, I felt that it would not be worthy either of me or you were I toaffect a maiden coyness and so to throw difficulties in your way. I feelthe honor of the offer you have made me. That you should for so manyyears have been absent and seen the grand ladies of the court, and haveyet thought of your little playfellow, shows that your heart is as trueand good as I of old thought it to be, and I need feel no shame inacknowledging that I have ever thought of you with affection."

  For the next few days there was much argument over the project of goingto Virginia. Herbert, when he heard what had happened in London, joinedhis entreaties to those of Sir Henry, asserting that he had onlyconsented to Lucy's going to so outlandish a place in the belief thatthere was no help for it, and that he did not think it fair for Harry totake her to such a life when he could stay comfortably at home. SirHenry did not say much, but Harry could see how ardently he longed forhim to remain. As for Lucy, she stood neutral, saying that assuredlyshe did not wish to go to Virginia, but that, upon the other hand, sheshould feel that her consent had been obtained under false pretenses,and that she had been defrauded of the enjoyment of a proper and regularcourtship, did it prove that Harry might have come home and sought herhand in regular form. Harry's reluctance to remain arose principallyfrom the fact that he had gained permission to do so by an act ofpersonal service which he had done the king's great enemy. Had he beenincluded in a general amnesty he would gladly have accepted it. However,his resolution gave way under the arguments of Herbert, who urged uponhim that he had no right, on a mere point of punctilio, to leave hisfather in his old age, and to take Lucy from her country and friends toa life of hardship in the plantations of Virginia. At last he yielded.Then a difficulty arose with Lucy
, who would fain have returned toAbingdon with her brother, and urged she should there have time givenher to be married in regular fashion. This Harry would by no meansconsent to, and as both Sir Henry and Herbert saw no occasion for thedelay, they were married a fortnight later at the Protestant church atHamburg, Jacob, who was by this time perfectly restored to health,acting as his best man.

  One of the first steps which Harry took after his return to Hamburg wasto inquire about the gypsy maid who had done him such service. She wasstill singing at the drinking-house. Harry went down there in thedaytime and gave one of the drawers a crown to tell her quietly that theEnglishman she knew would fain see her, and would wait for her at a spothe named on the walk by the river bank, between ten and twelve the nextday. Here, accompanied by Lucy, who, having heard of the service whichthe girl had rendered him, fully entered into his anxiety to befriendher, he awaited her the next day. She came punctual to the appointment,but in great fear that the old gypsy would discover her absence. UponHarry telling her that Lucy, who was about to become his wife, wouldwillingly take her to England and receive her as a companion until suchtime as some opportunity for furthering her way in life might appear,Zita accepted the proposal with tears of joy. She abhorred the life shewas forced to lead, and it was only after many beatings and muchill-usage from the gypsies that she consented to it, and it made herlife the harder, inasmuch as she knew that she had not been born to sucha fate, but had been stolen as a child.

  "What could have been their motive in carrying you away?" Lucy asked.

  "I believe," the girl said, "from what they have told me, that I wastaken in revenge. My father had charged one of the gypsies with theft,and the man having been hung, the others, to avenge themselves, carriedme off."

  "But why did you not, when you grew old enough, tell your story to themagistrates, and appeal to them for assistance?"

  "Alas!" the girl said, "what proofs have I for my tale? Moreover, evenwere I believed, and taken from the gypsies, what was there for me todo, save to beg in the streets for charity?"

  They now arranged with her the manner of her flight. She was afraid tomeet them again lest her footsteps should be traced, for she was surethat the gypsies would carry her away to some other town if they had theleast suspicion that she had made friends with any capable of taking herpart, as the whole party lived in idleness upon the money she gained bysinging. It was arranged, therefore, that the night before they were todepart Harry should appear in the singing hall, and should take hisplace near the door. She should let him know that she perceived him bypassing her hand twice across her forehead. When the performance wasover she should, instead of leaving as usual by the back way, slip downthe steps, and mingle with those leaving the hall. Outside the door shewould find Harry, who would take her to the hotel, where dresses wouldbe provided for her. There she should stop the night, and go on boardship with them in the morning.

  These arrangements were all carried out, and four days after the weddingof Harry and Lucy the party, with Zita, sailed for England. Had thetenantry on the Furness estate known of the home-coming of their youngmaster and his bride, they would have given him a grand reception; butHarry and his father both agreed that this had better not be, for thatit was as well to call no public attention to his return, even though hehad received Cromwell's permission.

  After all his adventures, Sir Harry Furness dwelt quietly and happilywith his father. In the following years the English fleet fought manyhard battles with the Dutch, and the Parliament, in order to obtainmoney, confiscated the property of most of those Cavaliers who had nowreturned under the Act of Amnesty. Steps were taken against Sir HenryFurness, but as he had taken no part in the troubles after the close ofthe first civil war, Cromwell, on receiving an application from him,peremptorily quashed the proceedings.

  On April 20, 1653, Cromwell went down to the House with a body oftroops, and expelled the Parliament, who were in the act of passing abill for their own dissolution, and a new representation. He thus provedhimself as tyrannous and despotic as any sovereign could have been. Anew Parliament was summoned, but instead of its members being elected inaccordance with the customs of England, they were selected andnominated by Cromwell himself. The history of England contains noinstance of such a defiance of the constitutional rights of the people.But although he had grasped power arbitrarily and by force, Cromwellused it well and wisely, and many wise laws and great social reformswere passed by the Parliament under his orders. Still the fanaticalparty were in the majority in this body, and as Cromwell saw that thesepersons would push matters further than he wished, he made anarrangement with the minority, who resigned their seats, thereby leavingan insufficient number in the House to transact business. Cromwellaccepted their resignation, and the Parliament then ceased to exist.

  Four days later, on the 16th of December, Cromwell assumed the state andtitle of Lord Protector of the Commonwealth. For the next five years hegoverned England wisely and well. The Parliament was assembled, but asits proceedings were not in accordance with his wishes, he dissolved it,and for the most part governed England by his own absolute will. That itwas a strong will and a wise cannot be questioned, but that a rising,which originally began because the king would not yield to the absolutewill of Parliament, should have ended in a despotism, in which the chiefof the king's opponents should have ruled altogether withoutParliaments, is strange indeed. It is singular to find that those whomake most talk about the liberties of Englishmen should regard as theirhero and champion the man who trod all the constitutional rights ofEnglishmen under foot. But if a despot, Cromwell was a wise and firmone, and his rule was greatly for the good of the country. Above all, hebrought the name of England into the highest honor abroad, and made itrespected throughout Europe. Would that among all Englishmen of thepresent day there existed the same feeling of patriotism, the samedesire for the honor and credit of their country, as dwelt in the breastof Oliver Cromwell.

  On August 30, 1658, Cromwell died, and his son Richard succeeded him.The Parliament and the army soon fell out, and the army, coming down inforce, dissolved Parliament, and Richard Cromwell ceased at once to haveany power. The army called together forty-two of the old members of theLong Parliament, of extreme republican views, but these had no soonermet than they broke into divisions, and England was wholly without agovernment. So matters went on for some time, until General Monk, withthe army of the north, came up to London. He had for weeks been incommunication with the king. For a time he was uncertain of the coursehe should take, but after awhile he found that the feeling of London waswholly averse to the Parliament, and so resolved to take the lead in arestoration. A Parliament was summoned, and upon the day after itsassembling Monk presented to them a document from King Charles,promising to observe the constitution, granting full liberty ofconscience, and an amnesty for past offenses. Parliament at oncedeclared in favor of the ancient laws of the kingdom, the government tobe by King, Lords and Commons; and on May 8, 1660, Charles II. wasproclaimed king, and on the 30th entered London in triumph.

  Sir Harry Furness sat in the Parliament which recalled the king, and inmany subsequent ones. His father came to London to see the royal entry,and both were most kindly received by the king, who expressed a warmhope that he should often see them at court. This, however, was not tobe. The court of King Charles offered no attractions to pure-minded andhonorable men. Sir Henry came no more to London, but lived quietly andhappily to the end of a long life at Furness Hall, rejoicing much overthe happiness of his son, and in the society of his daughter-in-law andher children. Herbert Rippinghall sat in Parliament for Abingdon. Exceptwhen obliged by his duties as a member to be in London, Sir HarryFurness lived quietly at Furness Hall, taking much interest in countrymatters. Twenty-eight years later James II fled from England, andWilliam of Orange mounted the throne. At this time Sir Harry Furness wassixty-one, and he lived many years to see the freedom and rights forwhich Englishmen had so hotly struggled and fought now enjoyed by themin all their fulln
ess.

  A few words as to the other personages of this story. Jacob, three yearsafter Harry's return to England, married the Spanish girl Zita, andsettled down in a pretty house called the Dower House, on the Furnessproperty, which, together with a large farm attached to it, Sir HenryFurness settled upon him, as a token of his affection and gratitude tohim for the faithful services he had rendered to his son.

  William Long was made bailiff of the estate, and Mike remained theattached and faithful body-servant of Sir Harry, until he, ten yearslater, married the daughter and heiress of a tradesman in Abingdon, andbecame a leading citizen of that town.

  Although Harry was not of a revengeful disposition, he rejoicedexceedingly when he heard, two or three months after the king'srestoration, of the execution of that doubly-dyed traitor, the Earl ofArgyll.

  THE END.