CHAPTER XVIII.
AT PRESTON AND AFTERWARDS.
The siege of Preston forms no part of this story, and fortunately sofor me, since I saw and understood of its brief and fatal enactment nomore than was done under my own nose. Why General Wills and hisdragoons were allowed to pass the Ribble Bridge and the narrow lanewhich leads to it without so much impediment as a single shot mightcause; why Mr. Forster made no attempt to break out down theFishergate Street into the marshes beyond the town when GeneralCarpenter closed in upon our rear; by what persuasions the Highlanderswere finally induced to lay down their arms--these are questions forhistorians to dispute and find answer to, if they can. For my part, Ifought at Macintosh's barrier a little below the church, where thefirst attack was made, with one eye upon Preston's regiment of foot infront and the other upon Mr. Curwen at my side; and what with theenemy and my friend, my hands were full.
The attack was made about eleven of the forenoon. I remember verydistinctly the extraordinary hush that fell upon us when our friendsfrom the windows of the houses above us signalled that the troops wereapproaching. In front stretched the empty street, so still, so bare inthe sunlight, and taking on of a sudden an appalling significance.Half an hour before, messengers had ridden hither and thither withresounding hoofs, patrols tramped upon the footway, citizens peepedtimorous from casement and door. We had glanced down it as we lookedto our weapons with a matter-of-fact word: "This way they will come."Now it seemed to wait in a conscious expectation, the responsibleagent of destiny. France, Scotland, England, every country in Europehad a stake to be played for in this street, and it was as though ithad been new-swept and garnished for the game. I know that everycobble throughout its length seemed to gleam in the sunlight distinctand separate from its fellows. And then, whilst we stood silent behindthe barrier, while from the windows the Highlanders bent forwardcraning their necks, grasping their muskets, the deadly silence wasbroken by the ringing tramp of a single horse, and from a passage atthe side betwixt two houses in the middle distance, an officer rodeout into the open causeway with his drawn sword in his hand. For amoment, every man of us, I think, held his breath. The officer lookedup the street to the barrier and again down the street and at thewindows to see how our men were posted. Then a shout went up, loud,unanimous, like a single voice; with a single movement every musketwas raised to the shoulder, and in a second the air whistled withbullets and flashed in a hundred tiny flames. But it seemed theofficer bore a charmed life. No bullet struck him then, and canteringback within the shelter of the passage, he presently led out andranged his men. The men were Preston's regiment; the officer, theirLieutenant-colonel, the Lord Forrester, and with their appearance thebattle was begun in earnest. I have hinted that I had some difficultyin restraining Mr. Curwen's ardour, and Lord Forrester gives me aninstance pat to the point. For during that moment's silence, when thecolonel stood alone in the street, Mr. Curwen climbs unsteadily to thetop of the barrier, and with his white hair blowing from hisshoulders, his dreamy eyes ablaze with I know not what fancies ofantique chivalry, calls upon the colonel to settle then and there withhim in single combat the succession to the Crown. Or, rather begins tocall, I should say, for the moment at which he began to speak wasprecisely that moment at which I saw the muskets go up to theshoulders, and leaping after him I pulled him unceremoniously down.
And here we found the value of our cannon. For we had two pieces atour barricade, and though they failed at first, it was owing to asailor who professing skill and experience was entrusted with themanagement of them, and who aiming at Preston's regiment in thestreet, with great ingenuity brought down a chimney from the tops ofthe houses. The truth is the man was full with ale, but having got ridof him, we fared better, and firing securely from behind the barrier,did so much execution as made our adversaries draw off.
That night we remained at the barrier firing platoons whenever a lightappeared in those houses which we knew to be occupied by ouropponents, and getting such sleep as we could to fit us for themorrow.
The next morning, however, we heard that General Carpenter by forcedmarches had come upon our rear so that the town was invested about,and there was no way for us except by the gates of death. And at thesame time many rumours of a capitulation were spread abroad whichdrove the Highlandmen into a frenzy. All the morning then we remainedin the greatest uncertainty, but about three of the afternoon ColonelCotton rode up the street with a dragoon and a drum beating a chamadebefore him, and then we knew that these rumours were indeed the truth.He alighted at the Mitre, whither we presently saw Lord Kenmure, Mr.Forster, and Lord Widdrington making haste to join him; and in alittle came a messenger to us seeking Lord Derwentwater. He was at themoment digging in a trench to deepen it, with his waistcoat off; andslipping on his clothes:
"Curse the fellow!" he cried, and so turned to me, "Lawrence! nevertrust a Tory! If you outlive this misfortune never speak to one! Theyare damned rogues in disguise. Here's Lord Widdrington, good tenderman that cannot travel without his soup in a bottle! Curse the fellow!All yesterday, while you and I, and the rest of my good friends here,were pleading the cause with the only music our enemies will dance to,what was my Lord Widdrington doing, but sitting in an alehouse,licking his bottle of soup? The gout he blames! Well, well, the goutis a very opportune complaint;" and so striking his hands together toremove the mud from them, off he goes to the Mitre.
It was some little while before he returned to me, during which Ibethought me not so much of the pass into which I had fallen, as themeans by which I might extricate myself. For extricate myself I must.There was Mr. Herbert in the first place. Here was the end of ourinsurrection, and I thrown back upon my first plan of deliveringmyself to the authorities; and in the second, I must needs get Mr.Curwen to some spot in which he could lie safely, until such time asthe matter had blown over; and furthermore, to these two duties wasyet added a third and new obligation. Yet, I think it was this lastwhich enheartened me to confront the other two, for there wassomething very sweet in the mere notion of it, which leavened all mydistress.
In about two hours came Lord Derwentwater back, and drawing me aside:
"It is not a capitulation," he said, "but a mere surrender. Forster isgiven till seven of the morning to reconcile his troops to it.Meanwhile, I go with Colonel Cotton as a hostage." He pulled out hispurse as he spoke, and rummaging in his pockets, added to it suchcoins as he had loose about him.
"We will divide them," said he. "Nay, they will be of more service toyou than to me. I was quartered with an apothecary--you know thehouse--a man very discreet and loyal. Doubtless he will do for youwhat he can if you add my recommendation to your request. It may bethat you can escape, since you are hampered with no companions and arelittle known."
"Nay," I replied, "I have Mr. Curwen to safeguard, if by any means Ican. He gave me shelter and every kindness when I was at my wits'ends. Besides----" And then I came to a stop and felt myself flushinghot, but hoped the grime of the gunpowder would hide my confusion.
"Well?" he asked shrewdly--"Besides?"
"Besides," I stammered, "I promised his daughter."
"Ah!" said he, "I told you it would be Dorothy Curwen;" and with thathe shook me by the hand. But at the touch I realized of a sudden allthe love and friendliness which he had shown to me from my firstcoming into Cumberland. I had a picture before my eyes of the house onLord's Island--my Lord and his Lady in the cosy parlour; the childrenin their cots above. I looked into his face; it was bravely smiling.The chill November evening was crowding upon us as we stood there inthe street; the lights began to shine in the windows; close to us asoldier was cursing Mr. Forster; beyond the barrier, down the street,one of Will's dragoons was roaring out a song; and before the Mitredoor under the lamp Colonel Cotton was sitting on his horse. I couldsay nothing to Lord Derwentwater but what would point his misfortunes,and so--
"My lord," I cried simply, "God send that you and I may meet agai
n."
"God send no answer to that wish, Lawrence," he replied solemnly.
He walked lightly to the Mitre door, as lightly as a man to hiswedding. He mounted his horse; his face shone clear for a momentbeneath the lamp, and that was the last glimpse I had of it. He rodedown the street with Colonel Cotton; I made my way in all haste to theapothecary with whom he had lodged.
I had some talk with the apothecary, of which the purport will appearhereafter, and returned for Mr. Curwen, whom I found immediately, andmy servant Ashlock, whom I did not find until late in the evening. Forhe had been employed in carrying gunpowder from barrier to barrier, sothat I knew of no fixed spot where I could lay my hands on him.However, as I say, I found him at the last, and when General Willsmarched into Preston Market-place at seven o'clock of the Mondaymorning, Mr. Lawrence Clavering, with a blue apron about his waist,was taking down the shutters from the apothecary's shop, while Mr.Curwen, much broken by fatigue and disappointment, lay abed in anattic of the house, with Ashlock to tend on him.
All that day, which was Monday the 14th of November, I lived in ajumping anxiety. For the shop from morn to night was beset with peopleseeking remedies for the wounded. These people, however, for the mostpart, belonged to General Wills' force; and luckily the citizens ofthe town had so much to distract them in the spectacle of the troopsand of the prisoners--now ranged in the market-place, now marched offand locked up in the church--and in their own joy at escaping from thesiege with so little damage, that they forgot those trivial ailmentswhich bring them to the apothecary's. So the new journeyman, poundingdrugs in a corner as far from the window as he could creep, escapednotice for that day and lay down to sleep beneath the counter with amind a thought easier than his aching arm.
In something less than a minute, it seemed to me, I felt a tug at mycoat. I started up with a cry, and looking to see the red coat of asoldier, beheld the homely brown of my friend the apothecary. His hatwas on his head, the door of the shop stood open, and the fulldaylight poured into it.
"Thomas," he said, with a whimsical glance through his spectacles, "Icannot do with an idle apprentice. I must cancel your indentures."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Willy nilly I must keep you for to-day, since I have a little journeyto take and I cannot leave the shop untended. But to-morrow, Thomas,you must go." With that he grew more particular, and informed me thatGeneral Carpenter intended to lead his troops to Wigan no later thanthis very morning, since they could not be housed in Preston, andwere, moreover, in sore need of rest from the rapidity of their march.
"General Wills," he continued, "is left to guard the prisoners, andthat doubtless he can do--but he cannot watch the streets as well."
Thereupon he gave me some directions as to what answers I should giveto his customers, and went off upon his errand. And as a result ofthis errand, on the Wednesday evening the apothecary took a walk. Hewalked down the Fishergate Street, and every now and again, when awatchman or an officer going his rounds approached, he knocked twiceupon the pavement with a heavy cane he carried, and maybe loitered fora little until the officer had passed. There were three men followinghim, whereof one I can affirm kept his hand beneath his great-coattightly clasped about the butt of a loaded pistol; and whenever thatdouble knock sounded, the three men dived into the first alley thatpresented. The apothecary's walk led across the marsh to the river'sbank. The marsh itself might be deemed an unlikely spot for acomfortable citizen to take the air in when the night mist was smokingup from it to a November moon. But the rest of his peregrination wasmore extraordinary still. For he chose that point of the bank at whichthe river shallows and makes a ford, and without hesitation wadedacross. On the opposite side he waited for the three who followed tocome up with him; which they did with a little delay, since two ofthem were old and the footing not the steadiest in the world. Half amile along the bank the apothecary went forward and whistled. A boatslipped out from a clump of alders and the fugitives stepped onboard. There was a hurried whisper of thanks from the boat, a bluffpooh-poohing of them from the bank, and the boatman pushed off. Wekept down the stream for some two hours, and disembarking again, afteronce more re-crossing the river, struck slantwise over the fields, andso towards morning came to a fisherman's cottage set amongst thesand-hills by the sea. It was here that my apothecary was wont to comeupon his holidays and spend the time fishing; and he could have hitupon no refuge better suited to my purpose.
My first thought, however, when the boatman admitted us into hiscottage, was for Mr. Curwen. It was now some hours since he had wadedthrough the ford, and what with his wet limbs and the weary trampacross the fields, I was afraid lest he might fall into some dangerousfever. I was the more inclined to credit this fear from a perceptionthat he was more troubled and downcast than I had seen him even afterour submission and defeat. Accordingly, I asked the boatman to lendhim some woollen stockings and other dry garments, which the man veryreadily did, and set before us thereafter a meal.
Mr. Curwen, however, eat little or nothing, but sat shaking his head,as though the world had crumbled about his ears. I made an efforttherefore to rally him into the recovery of his good spirits, thoughwith the heaviest heart. "All was not lost," I said, "for here were wewith whole skins, in a secure retreat, while, on the other hand, theEarl of Mar might be winning who knows what victories in Scotland."
"It is not of the King," he replied regretfully, "nor of myself that Iwas thinking. It was of my daughter. I fear me, Mr. Clavering, I havegiven too much thought to a cause in which I was of the smallest use,and too little to Dorothy, with whom my duty lay."
He spoke in a breaking voice and with a gleam of tears in hislack-lustre eyes.
"Mr. Curwen," said I, changing my note on the instant, "on the Sundayafternoon at the barricade I bethought me with all humility of thepath which I must take through this tangle of our misfortunes; I sawvery clearly that there were three duties enjoined on me. The firstwas, to help you to security, if by any means I could. Nay," I said,as he raised a hand in deprecation, "it was a promise I made to yourdaughter, and, believe me, it is one of the few comforts left to me inwhat remains of life that I see some prospect of carrying that promiseto a successful issue. The second duty was, to bring your daughterDorothy," and it was my voice now which broke upon the word, "safelyto you. That I have promised to myself, but I hold it no less sacredthan the first."
He reached out a hand to me across the table.
"And the third?" he asked timidly.
"It is the payment of a debt," I replied--"a debt incurred by me to berepaid by me, and I put it last, not because it is of less incumbencythan the other two, but because it ends my life, and with my life suchpoor service as I can do my friends."
"It ends your life!" he exclaimed.
"So I do hope," I replied, and since I meant the words, I can buttrust there was no boastfulness in the expression, "for it is my lifealone that can now set the tally straight God knows, my trouble liesnot in the payment, but in the means of payment. For there are matterswhich I do not know, and it may be that I shall waste my life."
This I said, thinking of my ignorance as to where Mr. Herbert layimprisoned. I had a plan in my head, it is true, which offered me somechance of accomplishing this duty, but it only offered me a chance.Mrs. Herbert had promised me that she would remain in the lodging atKeswick, and during the interval since I had last set eyes on her, shemight well have received news of her husband's whereabouts. But wouldshe keep the promise--she had every reason in the world to distrustme--would she keep the promise I had so urgently besought of her?
"Mr. Clavering," said my friend, "I told you just now I was afeared Ihad thought too much of the King and too little of my Dorothy, butthese words of yours put even that better thought to the blush. Youhave been at my elbow all the last days protecting me; you havebrought about my escape; you are planning how to save my daughter;and all this while you have seen--you, young in the sap of yourstrength--you have seen the lim
its of your life near to you, as thatbarrier by the church was near to us at Preston. And not a word of ithave you spoken, while we have bemoaned ourselves and made no secretof our misery. Not a word have you spoken, not a hint has your facebetrayed."
"Mr. Curwen, I beg of you," I replied quickly, for the praise jarredon me, as well it might. "A man does not speak what it shames him evento think of. But to my plan."
I drew from my pocket a sheet of paper and a pencil, with which I hadprovided myself before I quitted the apothecary's shop.
"Your sloop the _Swallow_ should be lying now off the mouth of the Eskby Ravenglass."
Mr. Curwen started at my abrupt remark. Was it merely that, amidst theturmoil and hurry of the last weeks, he had clean forgotten his designto set me over into France? Or was it that he had countermanded hisorder since that night when I had fled from Applegarth?
"It should be cruising thereabouts to pick me up," I said, feeling myheart drumming against my breast. I did not dare to put the questionin its naked directness. "It should have reached Ravenglass by now."Mr. Curwen sat staring at me. "The ship--the ship I mean! Oh, answerme!" I cried. "Answer me!"
"Yes!" he said slowly. "The _Swallow_ should be now at Ravenglass.That is true." He seemed to be assuring himself of the fact andspeculating on its import.
"You sent no message to prevent it sailing, after I left you?"
"None!" said he.
I drew a breath of relief.
"But we are now at the fifteenth of November. How long did you bid thecaptain wait?"
Mr. Curwen seemed of a sudden to grasp my design, though, as he showedme in a moment, he had got no more than an inkling of it.
"Until you hailed him," he replied, rising from his chair in someexcitement "He was to wait for you. That was the top and bottom of hisorders. There was no time fixed for your coming."
"Then," said I, in an excitement not a whit less than his, "the_Swallow_ will be waiting now up the coast?"
In the little room we could hear the surf booming upon the sand. Iflung open the window. The sound swelled of a sudden, as though themusic of a spinet should magically deepen to an organ-harmony.
"Your _Swallow_," I exclaimed, "lifts and falls upon the very waveswhich we hear breaking on the sands."
Mr. Curwen stepped over to my side. The sandhills stretched before us,white under the moon, and with a whisper from the grasses whichcrowned them. I found a cheering comfort in their very desolation.Beyond the sandhills, the sea leaped and called, tossing to and fro ahundred jewelled arms. I felt my heart leaping with the waves,answering their call, and the fresh brine went stinging through myveins.
"Northwards," I cried, reaching out an arm, "round the point there, upthe coast, beyond Morcambe Bay the _Swallow_ waits for us. It is nogreat distance, Mr. Curwen. God save Lord Bolingbroke, who betrayedthe Catalans!" I heard my voice ring with an exultation I had notknown for many a day. I strained my eyes northwards along the sea. Itseemed to my heated fancies, that the barrier of the shores fell back.My vision leaped over cape and bay, and where the Esk poured into thesea by Muncaster Fell I seemed to see the _Swallow_, its black masttapering across the moon; I seemed to hear the grinding of its cableas it strained against the anchor.
Then very quickly Mr. Curwen spoke at my side.
"There is my daughter. In this great hope of ours, are we notforgetting her?"
"Nay," I replied, "it is of your daughter I am thinking. You trustyour captain, you say? You trust your captain will be waiting now? Ifso, he will be waiting a fortnight's time; he waits until I come." Idrew Mr. Curwen back to the table.
"Look you, Mr. Curwen, I marched with Mr. Forster from the outset ofthe rising. We crossed from the Cheviots into England on the 1st ofNovember; we proclaimed King James in Preston Market-square upon the10th. Nine days enclosed our march, and we marched in force. Therewere other necessities beyond that of speed to order our advance.There was food to be requisitioned, towns to be chosen for a campwherein our troops could quarter. At Penrith, at Appleby, we drew upfor battle. All this meant delay. Some of us rode, no doubt, but ourpace was the pace of those who walked. And, mark, nine days enclosedour march. A man alone and free to choose his path would shear twodays from that nine, maybe three. I cannot choose my path, there willbe hindrances. I must travel for the chief part by night. But I havenot so far to go. Grant me nine days, then! It is the sixteenth--nay,the seventeenth. On the twenty-sixth I should be knocking at the doorof Applegarth."
"Nay," said he, "you will be captured. You have risked enough for us,more than enough. Mr. Clavering, I cannot permit that you should go."
"Yet," said I, with a smile, "you will find that easier than toprevent me. You told me of a safe route between Applegarth andRavenglass," I continued. "How long will it take a woman to traverseit?"
"I called it safe," he answered doubtfully, making dots upon the paperwith the point of his pencil, "because it stretched along thewatersheds. But that was in September. Now it may be there will besnow."
The winter indeed had fallen early that year. Yes, the snow might bedeep on the hills. I had a picture before my eyes of Dorothystruggling through it.
"Then we will add another day," I answered, and strove to make theanswer light. "Given that other day, how long shall we take fromApplegarth to Ravenglass?"
"Three days," said he, "or thereabouts."
"Nine days and three, twelve together. Your daughter, Mr. Curwen,shall be on board the _Swallow_ by the twenty-ninth. Meanwhile I thinkyou can lie safely here with Ashlock. From Ravenglass the sloop shallsail directly here, and, taking you up, make straight for France. Sosketch me here the way from Applegarth!"
Mr. Curwen drew a rough outline on the paper while I bent over him.
"You will mount to the top of Gillerthwaite," he said, "then bear tothe right betwixt Great Gable and the pillar. Descend the grass intoMosedale. Here is Wastdale Church; strike westwards thence to thegreat gap between Scafell and the Screes. This is Burnmoor--five milesof it, and there is no water; after you pass Burnmoor tarn until youhave come down to Eskdale. Cross Eskdale towards the sea. The longridge here is Muncaster Fell. Keep along the slope of it, and God sendyou see the _Swallow!_"
He gave me the paper. I folded it carefully and thrust it into mypocket. Then I took up my hat and held out my hand to him. He took it,and still clasping it came to the door with me, and out into the open.
"Mr. Clavering," he said, "when you first came to Applegarth I toldyou that I had lost a son. Tonight I seem to have found another, andit would be a great joy to me if, when the _Swallow_ puts in here, Icould see that second son upon its deck."
I stood for a moment looking at him, his words so tempted me! Thedifficulties of the adventure which lay before me became trivial in myeyes as the crossing of a muddy road. My fancy, bridging all between,jumped to the moment when the _Swallow_ should loose its sails withDorothy on board. I saw myself in imagination standing by her side,watching the Cumberland Hills lessen and dwindle, the while westreamed down the coast towards the sandbanks here.
"Then you shall see me," I longed to cry. But the thought of anotherwoman weeping by a lonely lamp in Keswick crept into my heart, andthereafter the thought of a man lying somewhere kennelled in a prison.
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