CHAPTER X.
Three or four days had elapsed, and the party in whose fate we haveinterested ourselves had reached the town of Nottingham in safety; butgloom and despondency hung over the court of the king, over the smallforce at his command, and over the whole city. Proclamation had beenmade for all loyal subjects to join the monarch in Nottingham; and ithad been announced on that day, the 25th of August, 1642, that Charleswould set up his royal standard against his rebellious parliament. Fewpersons, however, joined him; not a single regiment of foot had beenraised; the body of horse which he had led to Coventry had been littleincreased since he had retreated from that city; the artillery andammunition from York had not yet arrived; and sadness was upon everybrow, and apprehension in every heart.
The evening was dark and gloomy, the wind rising in sharp and howlinggusts; large drops of rain were borne upon the blast, and everythingpromised a night of tempest, when the king, accompanied by all thenoblemen and gentlemen who had joined him, set out on horseback forthe hill on which stands the old castle of Nottingham, with theknight-marshal before him bearing the royal standard, and a small bodyof the train-bands accompanying it as a guard. On reaching the spotdestined for the ceremony, the standard-pole was fixed with greatdifficulty, amidst the roll of the drum and the loud blasts of thetrumpet. But neither the war-stirring sound of the drum nor theinspiring voice of the trumpet could cheer the hearts of those around,or give them confidence even in the success of a good cause; and, withthe same sadness with which they had gone thither, the royal partyreturned from the castle hill just as the evening was growing greywith night.
Some four or five hours after, Lord Walton, who had participated fullyin the gloomy feelings which pervaded the whole court, rose from thesupper-table at which he had been seated with his sister, the Earl ofBeverley, and one or two friends who had joined them in Nottingham;and said--
"My head aches, dearest Annie; I will walk up to the castle hill andtake a look at the standard. The air will do me good."
"I will go with you, Charles," said Miss Walton, rising. "I will notkeep you a minute."
"Nay, not in such a night as this, Annie," answered her brother. "Doyou not hear how the wind blows, as if it would force in thoserattling casements?"
"Oh, I mind not the wind," replied Annie Walton: "you shall lend meyour arm, Charles; it will always be strong enough to steady yoursister's steps."
"God grant it, dear one!" replied Lord Walton. "Well, come! I do wishto talk with you, Annie, upon many things;" and in a few minutes theywere in the streets of Nottingham.
The wind was even more violent than they had expected; but the tallhouses of the good old town, though exposed by its position to theblasts, gave them some shelter; and as they walked along, Lord Walton,after a few minutes' silence, put his right hand upon his sister's,which grasped his arm, and said, "I wish to speak to you of thefuture, dear one. Danger and strife are before me. It is impossiblefor you to follow the movements of an army, and therefore I wish,before I march hence, to take you to the house of our good old cousin,Lady Margaret Langley, where you may rest in safety."
"I will go, Charles, if you wish it," replied Miss Walton; "but itmust be only upon the condition that no restraint be put upon mymovements, and that whenever there is a pause in the war, I may beallowed to follow and be near you."
"Of course, dear sister," replied her brother; "I don't pretend torestrain you in anything, Annie. You are old enough, and wise enough,and good enough, to decide entirely upon your own actions. You mustkeep several of the servants with you to guard you and protect youwherever you go. You must also have a sufficient sum to put you aboveany circumstances of difficulty, whatever you may think fit to do."
"Oh! I have the jewels, you know, Charles," said Miss Walton, "andmore money of my own with me than will be needful."
"Well, we will see to that hereafter." said Lord Walton; "but there isanother subject on which I would speak to you. No one can tell whatmay be the chance of war. I may go safely through the whole of thissad strife, and see the end of it. I may fall the first shot that isfired. But if I do, Annie, you will need some strong arm and powerfulmind to protect and support you. In that case, I would leave you,as a legacy, as a trust, as a charge, to the best friend I have onearth--the oldest, the dearest. Francis Beverley loves you, Annie."
"Hush! oh, hush, Charles!" cried Miss Walton, and he felt her handtremble upon his arm.
"Nay, sweet sister!" continued her brother; "I asked you for noconfessions. Your tale is told already, dear girl. All I ask is, willyou, when I am gone, without reserve or woman's vain reluctance, trustin him, rely on him, as you do on me?"
His sister was silent for a moment, and he repeated--"Will you, Annie,forget all coyness, all unkind and ungenerous diffidence, and,recollecting he has been a brother to your brother, confide in him assuch?"
Annie Walton paused again for a single instant, and then, with herface bent down, though no one could see her glowing cheek in thedarkness, she murmured, "I will."
Lord Walton pressed her hand in his, and then in silence led the wayup to the hill.
It was with difficulty that they ascended, so fierce were the gusts ofwind; but the very violence of the blast scattered from time to timethe drifting clouds, and the moon occasionally looked forth and cast awavering light upon their path. Not a soul, however, did they meet intheir way; all was still and silent but the howling of the tempest,till at length, when they reached the top, the voice of a sentinelexclaimed as usual--"Stand! Who goes there?"
"A friend," replied Lord Walton; and before the man could demand it,he gave the word for the night, saying, "The crown."
"Pass!" replied the sentinel; and he walked on with his sisterclinging to his arm.
The moon shone out again; and Miss Walton and her brother both gazedforward towards the spot where the standard had stood. They could notsee it; and hurrying on their steps, they found four or five of thetrain-band standing round the place. The standard itself was lyingfiat upon the ground.
In answer to Lord Walton's questions, the men informed him that thewind had blown it down, and that they found it was impossible to raiseit again; and turning sadly away, the young nobleman murmured in a lowvoice to his sister, "God send this be not an omen of our royalmaster's fate!"
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