The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  "You have proved yourself a good friend to me, Holgate," saidAtherton; "but I fear you are running great risk on my account."

  "I don't mind that," replied the other. "The moment I saw you, Idetermined to liberate you. I dare say you've forgotten thecircumstance, but I haven't. You saved me from being drowned in theIrwell--now we're quits. I'm going to take you to the old Manor Housein Bishopsgate Street. It belongs to Captain Hulton, who is in theking's army, but he is away, and my aunt, Mrs. Scholes, who is hishousekeeper, has charge of the house. She is a staunch Jacobite. Ihave seen her and told her all about you. You may trust herperfectly."

  Proceeding with the utmost caution, they soon came to BishopsgateStreet, in which the old Manor House was situated.

  Taking his companion to the back of the premises, Holgate tapped at adoor, which was immediately opened by a very respectable-lookingmiddle-aged woman, who curtsied to Atherton as she admitted him.Holgate did not enter the house, but with a hasty "good-night,"departed, and the door was closed and bolted.

  Mrs. Scholes then took Atherton to the kitchen, and explained that shemeant to put him in the "secret room" in case the house should besearched.

  "You will be indifferently lodged, sir," she said; "but you will besafe, and that's the chief thing."

  Atherton entirely concurred with her, and without wasting any furthertime in talk, she led him up a back staircase to a bedroom, from whichthere was a secret entrance through a closet, to a small innerchamber. The latter was destined for Atherton, and scantily furnishedas it was, he was very well content with it, and slept soundly in thelittle couch prepared for him.

  Next morning, when the prisoners were mustered, the greatestconsternation was caused by the discovery that Captain Legh wasmissing. It was quite clear that he had got out of the window, and itwas equally clear that the sentinel must have neglected his duty, orthe prisoner could not have escaped; but no suspicion attached to thelandlord.

  Of course the departure of the waggons was delayed, and strict searchwas made for the fugitive throughout the town. A proclamation waslikewise issued, announcing that any one harbouring him would beliable to severe penalties. But the notice had no effect.

  In consequence of some information received by the officer in commandof the escort that two persons had been seen to enter the Manor Housein Bishopsgate Street late at night, the house was strictly searched,but the secret chamber was not discovered, nor was anything found toindicate that the fugitive was concealed there.

  CHAPTER II.

  THE MEETING AT WARRINGTON.

  At Warrington, where the visitors were conveyed next day, a meetingtook place between Jemmy and Monica, who had come over from RawcliffeHall to see her unfortunate lover. She was accompanied by FatherJerome.

  Jemmy was alone in a little parlour of the inn at which the waggonshad stopped, when Monica was admitted by the guard, who immediatelywithdrew, and left them together.

  Springing forward, Jemmy clasped her to his heart.

  So overpowered were they both, that for some minutes they could notgive utterance to their feelings, but gazed at each other through eyesstreaming with tears.

  "Alas! alas!" cried Monica, at length. "Is it come to this? Do I findmy dearest Jemmy a prisoner?"

  "A prisoner of war," he replied, in as cheerful a tone as he couldassume. "I am sure to be exchanged. We shall be separated for a time,but shall meet again in another country. You imagine we shall all beput to death, but believe me the Elector of Hanover has no suchintention. He dare not execute us."

  "Hush! Jemmy--not so loud. I have been wretched ever since the retreatfrom Derby took place, for I foresaw what it would come to. I havenever ceased to reproach myself with being the cause of yourdestruction."

  "You have nothing to reproach yourself with, dearest girl," herejoined, tenderly. "'Tis a pity the prince did not march to London.'Tis a still greater pity the regiment was left at Carlisle."

  "Yes, you have been sacrificed, Jemmy--cruelly sacrificed. I shallnever think otherwise."

  "Such imputations, I am aware, are laid to the prince's charge, but hedoesn't deserve them--indeed he doesn't. He is the soul of honour. Noone believed the Duke of Cumberland would stop to besiege the town;and those best informed thought it could hold out for a month.However, fortune has declared against us. But I won't allow myself tobe cast down." Then lowering his tone, he added, "You know thatAtherton has escaped?"

  "Yes, I know it," she rejoined. "And so does Constance. Oh, that youhad been with him, Jemmy!"

  "I shall find means to follow--never doubt it," he rejoined. "But itwon't do to make the attempt just yet, for we shall be much morestrictly watched than before. But I have a plan, which I mean to putin practice when an opportunity offers, and I hope it will succeed."

  "Can I aid you, Jemmy?" she asked, anxiously.

  "No," he replied. "But don't be surprised if you see me some night atRawcliffe Hall."

  "Now, indeed, you give me fresh spirits," she cried. "Heaven grant Imay see you soon! But there may be danger in your coming to Rawcliffe,and you mustn't run any needless risk on my account."

  "The first use I shall make of my liberty will be to fly to you,dearest girl. Of that you may be quite sure. But we are talking onlyof ourselves. You have scarcely mentioned Constance or your mother.How are they both?"

  "They have been full of anxiety, as you may easily imagine. ButConstance has somewhat revived since she heard of Atherton's escape,and the tidings I shall be able to give her of you will make her feelmore easy. As to my mother, whatever she may suffer--and I am sure shesuffers much--she is perfectly resigned. Father Jerome is without.Will you see him?"

  "No. I will devote each moment to you. Ah! we are interrupted!" heexclaimed, as the guard came in to say that the time allowed them hadexpired.

  Again they were locked in each other's arms, and when they were forcedto separate, it seemed as if their hearts were torn asunder. Even theguard was moved by their distress.

  Nevertheless, Monica returned to Rawcliffe Hall in far better spiritsthan she had quitted it in the morning. She had now some hopes thather lover would escape.

  Shortly after her departure Jemmy was obliged to take his place in thewaggon, and for some time felt very wretched; but at length heconsoled himself by thinking that his separation from the object ofhis affections would not be long.

  The waggons proceeded so slowly on their journey to London, thatbefore they reached Dunstable news was received of the defeat ofGeneral Hawley, at Falkirk, by the prince. These tidings caused greatalarm throughout the country, as the opinion generally prevailed thatafter the siege of Carlisle the rebellion had been completelysuppressed.

  Though the prisoners rejoiced at the prince's success, they felt thattheir own peril was considerably increased by the event, and that inall probability the severest measures would now be adopted againstthem.

  Hitherto, such strict watch had been kept that Jemmy Dawson had foundno means of executing his plan of escape.

  CHAPTER III.

  ATHERTON TAKES REFUGE AT RAWCLIFFE HALL.

  On the third day after Atherton's escape at Wigan, as Constance andMonica, who had been tempted forth by the fineness of the weather,were walking in the park, a young man, in a plain country dress thatgave him the appearance of a farmer, made his way towards them.

  From the first moment when they beheld this personage their suspicionswere excited, but as he drew nearer they perceived it was Atherton.Constance would have hurried forward to meet him, but feeling thenecessity of caution she restrained herself. Presently, he came up,and thinking he might be noticed by some observer, he adopted a veryrespectful and distant manner, consistent with the character he hadassumed, and took off his hat while addressing them.

  "Of course you have heard of my escape," he said. "I did not attemptto communicate with you, for I had no one whom I could trust to conveya message, and I did not dare to write lest my letter should fall intowrong hands. For two days I was concealed in the old
Manor House atWigan, and most carefully attended to by the housekeeper, who providedfor all my wants. I had some difficulty in getting away, for the housewas watched, but on the second night I ventured out, and soon gotclear of the town. Before I left, Mrs. Scholes procured me thisdisguise, without which I should infallibly have been captured, for myuniform must have betrayed me. Even thus attired, I have had more thanone narrow escape. If I can only get into the house unobserved I shallbe perfectly safe."

  "You must wait till night and all shall be ready for you," rejoinedConstance. "As soon as it grows dark Markland shall come out into thepark."

  "He will find me near this spot," replied Atherton.

  "But what will you do in the interim?" asked Constance, anxiously.

  "Give yourself no concern about me," he rejoined. "You may be sure Iwill not expose myself to any needless risk. Adieu!"

  With a rustic bow he then moved off, and the two damsels returned tothe hall.

  Constance's first business was to summon Markland and tell him whathad occurred.

  The old butler did not manifest much surprise at the intelligence, forwhen he had first heard of Atherton's escape he felt certain the younggentleman would seek refuge at the hall, and he had already made somequiet preparations for his concealment. He therefore expressed theutmost readiness to carry out his young mistress's instructions, anddeclared that he could easily manage matters so that none of theservants should be aware that Captain Legh was hidden in the house.

  "Even if he should remain here for a month," he said, "with commoncaution I will engage he shall not be discovered."

  "I am very glad to hear you speak so confidently, Markland," sherejoined; "for I feared it would be impossible to conceal him for morethan a day or two."

  Having made all needful arrangements, Markland stole out quietly assoon as it became dark, and found Atherton at the spot indicated.

  "You are so well disguised, sir," he said, "that if I hadn't beenprepared I should certainly not have known you. But don't let us wastetime in talking here. I must get you into the house."

  The night being very dark their approach to the hall could not beperceived. On reaching the drawbridge Markland told his companion toslip past while he went into the gate-house to speak to the porter,and by observing these instructions, Atherton gained the court-yardunperceived.

  The butler then gave orders that the drawbridge should be raised, andwhile the porter was thus employed, he opened the postern and admittedCaptain Legh into the house. Having first satisfied himself that noone was in the way, Markland then led the young man along a passage tohis own room on the ground floor.

  All danger was now over. The small room into which Atherton had beenushered looked exceedingly snug and comfortable. Thick curtains drawnover the narrow window facing the moat prevented any inquisitive eyefrom peering into the chamber. A bright fire burnt on the hearth, andnear it stood a table on which a cold pasty was placed, with a bottleof claret.

  "I have prepared a little supper for you, sir," said Markland. "Praysit down to it. I'll take care you shan't be disturbed. You willplease to excuse me. I have some other matters to attend to."

  He then went out, taking the precaution to lock the door, and Athertonpartook of the first quiet meal he had enjoyed for some time.

  Old Markland did not return for nearly three hours, and when heunlocked the door, he found Atherton fast asleep in the chair. Greathavoc had been made with the pasty, and the flask of claret was nearlyemptied.

  "I have got a bed ready for you, sir," he said. "It isn't quite socomfortable as I could wish, but you will make allowances."

  "No need of apologies, Markland. I could sleep very well in thischair."

  "That's just what I mean to do myself, sir," replied the butler,laughing.

  With this, he took Captain Legh up a back staircase to a disused suiteof apartments, in one of which a bed had been prepared, while a woodfire blazing on the hearth gave a cheerful air to the otherwisegloomy-looking room.

  "I have had this room got ready as if for myself, sir," observedMarkland; "but as I have just told you, I mean to sleep in a chairbelow stairs. I wish you a good-night, sir. I'll come to you in themorning."

  So saying, he quitted the room, and Atherton shortly afterwards soughthis couch, and slept very soundly.

  Next morning, the old butler visited him before he had begun to dress,and opening the drawers of a wardrobe that stood in the room, took outtwo or three handsome suits of clothes--somewhat old-fashioned,inasmuch as they belonged to the period of George the First, but stillattire that could be worn.

  "These habiliments belonged to your father, Sir Oswald," saidMarkland; "and as you are about his size, I am sure they will fityou."

  "But are they not out of fashion, Markland?" cried Atherton. "Peoplewill stare at me if I appear in a costume of five-and-twenty yearsago."

  "Well, perhaps they might," rejoined the butler; "but there can be noobjection to this dark riding-dress."

  "No, that will do very well," said Atherton, in an approving tone,after he had examined it.

  "You will find plenty of linen in this drawer--laced shirts,solitaires, cravats, silk stockings," continued the butler; "and inthat cupboard there are three or four pairs of jack-boots, with asmany cocked-hats."

  "Bravo!" exclaimed Atherton. "You have quite set me up, Markland. Butnow leave me for a short time, that I may try the effect of thisriding-dress."

  The butler then withdrew, but returned in about half an hour with apot of chocolate and some slices of toast on a tray.

  By this time Atherton was fully attired, and everything fittedhim--even to the boots, which he had got out of the cupboard.

  "Why, I declare, you are the very image of your father!" exclaimedMarkland, as he gazed at him in astonishment. "If I had not known whoyou are, I should have thought Sir Oswald had come to life again. Ifany of the old servants should see you, you will certainly be takenfor a ghost."

  "That's exactly what I should desire," replied Atherton; "and shouldit be necessary, I shall endeavour to keep up the character. However,I don't mean to qualify myself for the part by eating nothing, so pourme out a cup of chocolate."

  The butler obeyed, and Atherton sat down and made a very goodbreakfast.

  Before he had quite finished his repast, the butler left him, and didnot reappear.

  CHAPTER IV.

  AN ENEMY IN THE HOUSE.

  Not having anything better to do, Atherton began to wander about thedeserted suite of apartments, with which his own chamber communicatedby a side door.

  As the windows were closed, the rooms looked very dark, and he couldsee but little, and what he did see, impressed him with a melancholyfeeling; but the furthest room in the suite looked lighter and morecheerful than the others, simply because the shutters had been opened.

  It was a parlour, but most of the furniture had been removed, and onlya few chairs and a table were left.

  Atherton sat down, and was ruminating upon his position, when a doorbehind was softly opened--so very softly that he heard no sound.

  But he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, and, looking up, beheldConstance standing beside him.

  When he met her in the park with Monica, he had not noticed anymaterial alteration in her appearance; but now that he gazed into herface, he was very much struck by the change which a week or two hadwrought in her looks.

  Dressed in deep mourning, she looked much thinner than heretofore, andthe roses had entirely flown from her cheeks; but the extreme palenessof her complexion heightened the lustre of her magnificent black eyes,and contrasted forcibly with her dark locks, while the traces ofsadness lent fresh interest to her features.

  Not without anxiety did Atherton gaze at her, and at last he said:

  "You have been ill, Constance?"

  "Not very ill," she replied, with a faint smile. "I am better--andshall soon be quite well. My illness has been rather mental thanbodily. I have never quite recovered from the terrible shock w
hich Ihad to undergo--and, besides, I have been very uneasy about you. Nowthat you are safe I shall soon recover my health and spirits. At onetime I feared I should never behold you again, and then I began todroop."

  "I thought you possessed great firmness, Constance," he remarked.

  "So I fancied, but I found myself unequal to the trial," she rejoined."I had no one to cheer me. Monica's distress was even greater than myown, and her mother did not offer us much consolation, for she seemedconvinced that both you and Jemmy were doomed to die as traitors."

  "Well, your apprehensions are now at an end, so far as I amconcerned," said Atherton; "and I see no cause for uneasiness inregard to Jemmy, for he is certain to escape in one way or other. Ihope to meet him a month hence in Paris. But I shall not leave Englandtill I learn he is free, as if he fails to escape, I must try toaccomplish his deliverance."

  "Do not run any further risk," she cried.

  "I have promised to help him, and I must keep my word," he rejoined.

  "I ought not to attempt to dissuade you, for I love Jemmy dearly, butI love you still better, and I therefore implore you for my sake--ifnot for your own--not to expose yourself to further danger. I will nowtell you frankly that I could not go through such another week as Ihave just passed."