CHAPTER IX.
We must now change the scene, and without much consideration of the"pathos and bathos delightful to see," must remove the reader from thehigher and more refined society of Lord Walton, his sister, and theEarl of Beverley, to the small sanded parlour of the little alehousein the village. We must also advance in point of time for about threehours, and put the hour-hand of the clock midway between the figuresone and two, while the minute-hand is quietly passing over the six.All was still in the place; the soldiery were taking their briefrepose, except a sentinel who walked up and down, pistol in hand, ateach entrance of the village; and the villagers themselves, havingrecovered from the excitement caused by the arrival of the party, andthe drinking and merriment which followed it, had taken possession ofsuch beds as the troopers left them, and were enjoying the sweet buthard-earned slumber of daily labour.
Two living creatures occupied the parlour of the alehouse: a largetabby cat, which--as if afraid that the mice upon which she waged suchinterminable and strategetic war might take advantage of her ownslumbers to surprise her--had mounted upon a three-legged stool, andwas enjoying her dreams in peace, curled up in a comfortable ball; andCaptain Barecolt, who, seated in a wooden arm-chair, with his longleg-bones, still in their immemorial boots, stretched upon another,kept watch, if such it could be called, with a large jug of ale besidehim, from which he took every now and then deep draughts, for thepurpose, as he mentally declared, of "keeping himself awake."
The effect was not exactly such as he expected, for from time to timehe fell into a doze, from which a sort of drowsy consciousness of theproximity of the ale roused him up every quarter of an hour, to make anew application to the tankard. At length, feeling that these napswere becoming longer, he drew his legs off the chair, muttering--
"This won't do! I shall have that dried herring, Randal, upon me; Imust take a pipe and smoke it out."
And thereupon he moved hither and thither in the parlour, looking forthe implements necessary in the operation to which he was about toapply himself. These were speedily found, and a few whiffs soonenveloped him in a cloud as thick as that in which Homer's Jove wasaccustomed to enshrine himself on solemn occasions; and in the midstof this, the worthy captain continued ruminating upon the mighty deedshe had done and was to do.
He thought over the past, and congratulated himself upon his vastrenown; for Captain Barecolt was one of those happy men who have afacility of believing their own fictions. He was convinced that, if hecould but count them up, he had performed more feats of valour andslaughtered more bloody enemies than Amadis de Gaul, Launcelot of theLake, the Admiral de Coligni, or the Duke of Alva. It was true hethought such events soon passed from the minds of great men, beingcommon occurrences with them, so that he could not remember one-halfof what he had done, which he only regretted for the sake of society;but he was quite sure that whenever opportunities served he should befound superior to any of the great captains of the age, and that meritand time must lead him to the highest distinction. This led him on tofuturity, and he made up his mind that the first thing he would doshould be to save the king's life when attacked on every side byfifteen or sixteen horsemen. For this, of course, he would be knightedon the spot, and receive the command of a regiment of horse, withwhich he proposed to march at once to London, depose the lord mayor,and, proceeding to the Parliament-house, dissolve the Parliament,seize the speaker and twelve of the principal members, and hang SirHarry Vane. This, he thought, would be work enough for one day; butthe next morning he would march out with all the cavaliers he couldcollect, defeat the Earl of Essex on one side, rout Waller on theother, and then, with his prisoners, proceed to head-quarters, where,of course, he would be appointed general-in-chief, and in thatcapacity would bring the king to London.
What he would do next was a matter of serious consideration, for, thewar being at an end, Othello's occupation was gone; and as, during allthis time he had made sundry applications to his friend the tankard,his imagination was becoming somewhat heavy on the wing, so that, in aminute or two after he fell sound asleep, while the pipe droppedunnoticed from his hand, and fractured its collar-bone upon the floor.
He had scarcely been asleep ten minutes when the door of the roomslowly opened, and a round head covered with short curls was thrustin, with part of a burly pair of shoulders. The door was then pushedpartly open, and in walked a stout man in a good brown coat, who,advancing quietly to the side of Captain Deciduous Barecolt, laid hishand upon his arm. Now, what Captain Barecolt was dreaming of at thatmoment it is impossible for the author of these pages to tell; but hisvision would appear to have been pugnacious, for the instant theintruder's grasp touched his left arm he started up, and, stretchingout his right hand to a pistol which lay between the tankard andhimself on the table, snatched it up, levelled it at the head of hisvisiter, and pulled the trigger.
Luckily for the brains, such as they were, of poor John Hurst (for hewas the person who had entered), in the last unsteady potations of thebellicose captain, a few drops of ale had been spilt upon the pan ofthe deadly weapon; and though the flint struck fire, no flashsucceeded, much to the astonishment of Barecolt, and the relief of hiscompanion.
"D--n the man!" cried Hurst, reeling back in terror; "what art thouabout? Dost thou go to shoot a man without asking, 'with your leave,or by your leave?'"
"Never wake a sleeping tiger!" exclaimed Barecolt, with a gracefulwave of his hand. "You may think yourself profoundly lucky, masteryeoman, that you have got as much brains left in that round box ofyours as will serve to till your farm, for this hand never yet missedanything within shot of a pistol or reach of a sword. I remember verywell once, in the island of Sardinia, a Corsican thought fit tocompare his nose to mine, upon which I told him that the first time wemet I would leave him no nose to boast of. He, being a wise man, keptever after out of reach of my hands; but one day, when he thoughthimself in security upon a high bank, he called out to me, 'Ha! ha!capitaine, I have got my nose still!' upon which, drawing out mypistol, I aimed at his face, and, though the distance was full ahundred yards, with the first shot I cut off his proboscis at theroot, so that it dropped down upon the road, and I picked it up andput it in my pocket."
"It must have been somewhat thin in the stalk," said Hurst; "no goodstout English nose, I warrant you. But come, captain, you must take meup to my lord. The sentry passed me on to you, and I want helpdirectly, for there is a nest of Roundheads not five miles from here,who have got that poor little girl in their hands, and are brewingmischief against us to-morrow. Half-a-dozen men may take themto-night, but we may have hard work of it if we wait till daylight."
Captain Barecolt paused and meditated; a glorious opportunity ofbuying distinction cheaply seemed now before him, and the onlydifficulty was how to keep it all in his own hands.
"I cannot disturb the commander," he said, in a solemn tone, after afew minutes' consideration; "that's quite impossible, my friend.Faith, if you want help, you must be content with mine andhalf-a-dozen soldiers of my troop. I am a poor creature, it is true,"he continued, in a tone of affected modesty, "and not able to do somuch service as some men. I never killed above seventeen enemies in aday; and the best thing I have to boast of is, having blown up a fortcontaining three hundred men with my own unassisted hand. However,what poor aid I can give you may command. We will take six picked menwith us, if that be enough; you and I will make eight; and if there benot more than a hundred and fifty of the enemy, I think we couldmanage."
"A hundred and fifty!" cried Hurst. "Why, there are but seven, and oneof them is not a fighting man."
"Who may they be?" asked Barecolt, in a solemn tone; "If there be butseven we shall have no need of any men; I will go alone. Who may theybe?"
"Why, there's that Captain Batten, whom my lord took away prisoner, Ihear," replied Hurst; "then there's a Dr. Bostwick, a parliamentarycommittee man; then there's old Dry, of Longsoaken, who dragged awaythe girl while you were all fighting a
t the bridge; the other fourare, I hear, common councilmen of Coventry, though they are all deckedout in buff and bandolier, as if they were fire-eating soldiers justcome from the wars. They were laying a plan before they went to bedfor bringing troops from Coventry round about my lord and his men,while two regiments of Essex's, that are marching into the north, wereto have warning, and cut off the retreat."
"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Captain Barecolt, "we will cut off theirs. Haveyou got a horse, master yeoman? I think yours was killed in thefield."
"Ay, that it was," answered Hurst, "to my loss and sorrow; as good abeast as ever was crossed, and cost me twenty pound."
"We will mount you, we will mount you," said the captain; "there are adozen and more good horses which forgot their riders yesterday, andleft them lying by the bridge. We may as well have half-a-dozen menwith us, however, just to tie the prisoners, for that is not work forgentlemen; so you sit down and take a glass of ale, and I will get allthings ready."
In the course of about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, CaptainBarecolt had called to his aid eight men of the troop whom he couldmost depend upon; and after having brought down Major Randal's cornetto take his post during his absence, and mounted good John Hurst onthe horse of a trooper who had been killed the day before, he led theway out of the little town, and, guided by the yeoman across thecountry, advanced slowly towards another village situated in theplain, about five or six miles from that in which they had taken uptheir quarters. The country was open, without woods or hedges, but thenight was profoundly dark, and the wind sighing in long gusts over theopen fields. Nothing was to be seen except the glimmer of a piece ofwater here and there, till they approached the village to which theirsteps were bent, when one or two lights became visible amongst thehouses, as if, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, all theinhabitants had not yet retired to rest. One of these lights, too, asif proceeding from a lantern, appeared moving about in the gardens;and Captain Barecolt, turning to Hurst, asked him, in a low voice--
"What is the meaning of those lights?"
"I don't know," answered the yeoman. "It was all dark when I creptaway."
"We shall soon see," rejoined Barecolt. "You are sure there are notroops in the place?"
"There were none when I left it," replied Hurst; but, almost as hespoke, a loud voice exclaimed--
"Stand! Who goes there?"
"A friend," answered Barecolt.
"Stand, and give the word!" repeated the voice, and at the samemoment, a small red spot of fire, as if produced by a man blowing amatch, appeared immediately before them; and Barecolt, spurring on hishorse, found himself in the presence of a matchlock-man, at whose headhe aimed a cut with his heavy sword, which rang sharply upon a steelcap, and brought the man upon his knee.
He fired his piece, however, but he missed his mark, and threw downthe gun, while Barecolt, catching him by the shoulder, put his swordto his throat, exclaiming--
"Yield, or you are a dead man!"
The sentinel had no hesitation on the subject, having already receiveda sharp wound on the head, which left him little inclination to courtmore.
"Now tell me who is in the village," exclaimed Barecolt; "and see thatyou tell truth, for your life depends upon it."
"Three companies of Colonel Harris's regiment," answered the soldier,"and a troop of Lord Essex's own horse."
"The number?" demanded Barecolt.
"Four hundred foot and a hundred troopers," replied the man;and having a little recovered from his first apprehension, hedemanded--"Who may you be?"
"My name is Johnson," answered Barecolt, readily, "first captain ofSir Nicholas Jarvis's regiment of horse, marching up to join the Earlof Beverley and Lord Walton at Hendon, near Coventry. We thought theywere quartered in this village: whereabout do they lie?"
"Oh, no," answered the man, "they are five miles to the east, we hear,and we were to attack them on the march tomorrow."
"Are you telling me the truth?" said Barecolt, in a stern tone; "but Iwill make sure of that, for I will take you with me to Sir NicholasJarvis, and if we find you have cheated us as to where they lie,you shall be shot to-morrow at daybreak. Tie his hands, some ofyou---- Hark! there is a drum! There, curse him, let him go; we haveno time to spare; I must get back to Sir Nicholas, and let him know weare on the wrong road."
Thus saying, he turned his horse and rode away, followed by the restof his party; while the tramp of men coming down fast from the villagewas heard behind them.
The reader need not be told that Captain Barecolt never had theslightest intention of carrying off the wounded sentinel with him;for, having filled him with false intelligence regarding the march ofhis imaginary regiment, he was very glad to leave him behind tocommunicate it to his fellows in the place. In the meanwhile, hehimself gave orders for putting the horses into a quick trot, andreturning with all speed to the village, where, without communicatingany tidings he had gained to any one, he left his men, and hurried upwith Hurst to the mansion on the hill.
The earl and Lord Walton were immediately called up, and Barecolt,being admitted to their presence, made his statement. We are by nomeans so rash as to assert that the account he gave was altogethertrue; for Captain Deciduous Barecolt, much more skilful than thewriter of this tale, never lost sight of his hero, and his hero wasalways himself; but, at all events, the intelligence he brought of theenemy was accurate enough, and the stratagem he had used to deceivethe foe was also told correctly, and received great commendation. Hewas sent down immediately, however, to call Major Randal to thecouncil, and, in the mean time, the two young noblemen eagerlyquestioned Hurst as to what he had seen and heard amongst the adverseparty.
The good yeoman's tale was told briefly and simply, and showed thefollowing facts:--After his horse had been killed, he had carried offhis saddle and the other worldly goods which he possessed; and findingthat, without being of any service to his party, he was in imminentdanger of losing his own life from the stray shots that were flyingabout in different directions, he made the best of his way to the backof the little mound we have mentioned, and thence peeped out to seethe progress of the fight. Perceiving at one time, as he imagined, thesmall force of Royalists wavering in their attack upon the musketeers,he judged it expedient, lest his friends should be defeated, to put agreater distance between himself and the enemy; and taking all thearticles that were most valuable to him out of the saddle, he left itbehind him, and hurried on for about a mile farther, where he took uphis position in a ditch. While thus ensconced, he saw the well-knownform of Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, together with that of anothergentleman, whom he afterwards found to be Captain Batten. Betweenthese two appeared poor Arrah Neil, of whose arm Dry retained a firmgrasp, while he held a pistol in his right hand, under the authorityof which he seemed to be hurrying her on unresistingly.
In about a quarter of an hour more, some fugitive musketeers ran by asfast as they could go, and shortly after, several of Major Randal'stroopers appeared in pursuit; but as Hurst was unacquainted with thesoldiers, he prudently resolved to lie concealed where he was tillsome of his lord's followers should come up, which he calculated wouldbe shortly the case, fearing he might be taken for one of the enemy,or at all events that he might be plundered by a friend--an operationas common in those days as in the present, though then it was donewith pistol and broadsword, and now, in general, with pen and ink.
Towards the end of the day some of Lord Walton's men did appear, andspoke a word to him in passing, from which he gathered that they weresearching for Arrah Neil; but, with the usual acuteness of personssent upon a search, they rode on without waiting for any informationhe could give. Having marked the road which Dry and his companions hadtaken, Hurst then determined to follow them, and made his way to thevillage, in which they halted for the night. His plan had provedsuccessful, he said; he had found the two parliamentary committee men,together with Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, lodged in a house in thevillage, and, boldly seeking out Dry, he gave him to understand
thathe had been taken by Lord Walton to join the king against his will,and was now making the best of his way home. He affected some fear ofbeing overtaken; and in order to reassure him, Dry and Dr. Bastwickcommunicated to him the intelligence they received in the course ofthe evening from the men of Coventry, in regard to the movement ofparliamentary forces. This took place some hours subsequently,however, to the despatch of his note to Lord Walton, and he could notmake his escape from the village, in order to carry more accuratetidings to his young landlord, till Dry and the rest had retired tobed.
As soon as Major Randal arrived, a hasty consultation was held, toascertain the course of proceedings which it would be expedient tofollow. It was determined, notwithstanding great reluctance on thepart of Lord Walton, to leave poor Arrah Neil in the hands of Mr. Dry,of Longsoaken, that the march should be immediately commenced; andorders were given to that effect, which at once produced all thebustle and confusion of hasty departure. Miss Walton was called up,and, dressing herself hastily, was soon placed upon horseback oncemore, for it was determined to leave the carriages behind; and inabout an hour the two noblemen and their followers, with MajorRandal's troop, were marching on, in the grey of the dawn, directingtheir steps towards Coventry. A small guard was left over theprisoners, with orders to remain behind about an hour, and then toleave them and follow with all speed, in order that the departure ofthe troops might be accomplished as secretly as possible. No trumpetwas sounded; and if it had been possible to carry out King Lear'splan, and shoe a troop of horse with felt, it would have been upon thepresent occasion.
Though that could not be accomplished, all their proceedings wereconducted with as much silence as possible; and Miss Walton, ridingbetween her brother and the Earl of Beverley, had plenty of time forthought. The sky had changed from grey to purple and gold; the expanseof the heavens had lost its glorious hues, as the sun rose up abovethe horizon; and the morning of a somewhat dull and heavy day hadfully dawned ere any one spoke, except, indeed, when the few shortwords of command and direction were necessary. The countenance of LordWalton was grave, and even sad; and his sister, who watched it withsome anxiety, at length inquired--
"Do you anticipate any great danger, Charles? You look very gloomy."
"Oh, no, dearest Annie," he answered; "I think we are so far beforeour enemies that we shall without doubt be able to join the kingbefore they are aware of our departure. But I cannot think of beingobliged to leave that poor girl in the hands of that old hypocriteDry, without feeling very sad. If he treat her ill, woe be to himshould he and I ever meet again! but I trust he will be afraid toendanger his sanctified reputation. That is my only hope."
The earl now joined in, with that tone of calm cheerfulness which isthe most persuasive of hope; and with the peculiar charms of hisconversation, and the continued and brilliant variety which itdisplayed, led the thoughts of his companions to happier themes, andalmost made them believe that brighter days were before them. Sincethe preceding night his manner had much changed towards Miss Walton:there was a tenderness in it, a tone which can only be called the toneof love; and though both were more silent than they previously hadbeen, yet each, in that silence, was thinking of the other, and it isvery dangerous so to do, unless we are disposed to yield to feelingswhich in the end may master us altogether. Coquetry may talk, maycarry on uninterrupted observation and reply; indifference may pursuethe calm and easy current of conversation; and avowed and satisfiedlove may hold unbroken communion upon all the many subjects of thoughtand imagination; but in its early day true passion is fitful in itseloquence, full of silence and interruptions, for it is full ofthought; and the voice of feeling is often the strongest when the lipsare motionless and the tongue is mute.
But we will dwell no more upon such matters, for we have action beforeus instead of thought, deeds rather than sensations. After a march ofabout four hours, and a short pause for refreshment, the advancedparty of the troop was seen to halt upon a small eminence, while oneof the troopers rode back at full speed, bringing the intelligencethat they descried a considerable body of men drawn up at a shortdistance from Coventry.
"Are we so near?" said Miss Walton.
"Within three miles," replied the earl. "That is the spire of St.Michael's Church rising over the slope. You will see the city as soonas we pass the rise. Think you these are the king's troops, MajorRandal?"
"Ay, such troops as they are," answered the old officer; "we must havemore and better before we do much service."
"It will be as well to despatch some one to see," said Lord Walton. "Iwill send two of my servants, major. Here, Langan and Hartup, ride onwith all speed, and bring me back news of the people who are beforeCoventry. I cannot divine why the king should halt before the gates."
"There may be rogues within," said Major Randal. And so it proved;for, on their arrival at the top of the slope, where Coventry, withits wide walls and beautiful spires, rose fair before them, they saw afire of musketry opened from the city upon a small party of royalisttroops, which approached too near the gates.
Marching rapidly on, as soon as it was ascertained that the force theysaw was that of Charles himself, they soon reached the monarch's army,if so it could be called, and Annie Walton found herself in the midstof a new and animated scene.
The king's face expressed much grief and vexation, as, sitting upon apowerful horse, he consulted with some of his principal officers as towhat was to be done on the rebellious refusal of Coventry, to give himadmission. But when he turned to receive the little reinforcementwhich now joined him, his countenance assumed a glad and cheerfullook; and as Lord Walton, dismounting, approached his stirrup, he heldout his hand to him graciously, saying--
"Those are kind friends and loyal subjects, indeed, my lord, who rallyround their sovereign when more favoured men forsake him. Your ownpresence, my good sir, is the best answer you could give to myletters. We must retreat, I fear, however, from before theseinhospitable walls; for we have no cannon to blow open their gates,and even if I had, I could wish to spare my subjects."
"Ah, sire!" said Major Randal, who had also advanced to the king'sside, "when subjects draw the sword against their king, both partiesshould throw away the scabbard, for it is the blade must decide all."
"Too rough, and yet too true," said his majesty; and after a few morewords addressed to Lord Beverley and Miss Walton, the king turned hishorse, and rode off with his attendants towards Stonely, leaving thesmall force by which he was accompanied to follow.
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