The Loyalists, Vol. 1-3

by Mrs. West

  CHAP. XIII.

  O! holy men! Ye are the sons of piety and peace; Ye never felt the sharp vindictive spur That goads the injured warrior; the hot tide That flushes crimson on the conscious cheek Of him who burns for glory; else indeed Ye much would pity me.

  Mason.

  Eustace kept his promise, and rejoined Monthault, at the time and placeappointed, equipped for service. His friend commended his heroism. "Anddid you," said he, "obtain Constantia's permission?" "No," answeredEustace; "I felt unequal to such a trial. I only pressed her hand withgreater tenderness, and more earnestly implored Heaven to take her intohis especial care."

  "You will both thank me for projecting this separation," replied theMajor. "Seeing the world with your own eyes will improve you, brush offthat home-bred air which makes you bashful, and enlarge your ideas andpowers of conversation. I promise ourselves a spirited, agreeablecampaign. Hopton's office in the council will confine him about theperson of the Prince, who must be kept at some distance from the sceneof action; and Goring is no rigid disciplinarian. The enemy is not inforce in the west; Cromwell and Fairfax are both to play atKing-hunting; so we shall have time to divert ourselves and do our dutytoo."

  From Bristol, Eustace wrote to his uncle and Constantia, excusing hisabsence by the uncontrollable avidity he felt to engage in the cause ofhis injured Prince, to whose commands he promised a strict obedience,and vowed to be sedulously attentive to all his new duties. ToConstantia he added that he hoped to return worthier of her, and to feelin future the glorious consciousness of having contributed to restorehis virtuous persecuted Sovereign, and give peace to his afflictedcountry. There was so much loyalty, honour, love, and gratitude in theseletters, that they must have softened the Doctor's displeasure at hiselopement, had they come to hand; but they were confided to the care ofMonthault, and, either through forgetfulness or treachery, were neverforwarded. It was therefore only from the vague testimony of anaccidental passenger that the family knew Eustace had taken the road toBristol; and, from his being in company with Major Monthault, theyguessed his destination.

  Constantia had now the twofold anguish of fearing for the safety andapologizing for the faults of her beloved. The latter task was by farthe most painful. She could only urge that he had a bad adviser, andthat it was his first offence. Every day she flattered herself that sheshould receive a letter, deprecating her father's anger, and assuagingher own fears. The summer passed away, and they heard nothing fromEustace. Had he forgot her, as well as the ties of duty and gratitude?It was impossible! letters might be lost, but her plighted Eustace mustbe good and faithful.

  I have before remarked that Lord Hopton was the officer under whom Dr.Beaumont would have wished his nephew to learn "the noble game of war;"but there were circumstances in his present appointment which made itdiffer widely from that of the preceding year, when, with hiscompatriot, Sir Bevil Greenvil, he drew a cordon across the westernpeninsula, and preserved, in that happy spot, the laws, the virtues, andthe honour of England. He was now, indeed, to be the ruling head; buthis former associates in arms lay cold in earth, and the persons to whomthe execution of his plans was to be intrusted, were the avowed votariesof Bacchus and Comus. It was with gay voluptuaries, freethinkers, andrevellers, that Eustace must converse; at a distance from those whosewisdom might govern his impetuosity, and whose steady principles wouldcorrect his backslidings. Contemplating the dangerous situation of agenerous, but indiscreet stripling, Dr. Beaumont now wished him in thearmy which the King was leading northward, to collect the remains ofLord Newcastle's forces, as that route might have afforded him a chanceof joining his father in Carlisle, which held out with unexampledfirmness, enduring the most incredible privations, and repelling themost vigorous assaults. The event of the fatal battle of Naseby, whichpalsied all the King's efforts to preserve the constitution, and endedall the hopes of his friends, would have made Dr. Beaumont rejoice thatEustace did not swell the list of noble and illustrious persons left onthat bloody field, had not his sorrow for a "King and kingdom lost" beentoo acute and overwhelming to receive any diminution from privateconsiderations. The infantry, cannon, ammunition, baggage, and all theresources of the King, were there wrested from his grasp by victoriousrebels; and England virtually exchanged the government of the religious,conscientious descendant of her ancient Princes, for that of a low-born,cruel hypocrite, who ruled her with a rod of iron. The King indeedescaped from the battle with a small body of horse; but it was only tofly from place to place before his unwearied enemies, pursued into everycorner of his kingdom, without knowing where to rest his head, allowedno pause, even to ruminate on his misfortunes, till at last, trustingthat his own countrymen would not betray the Prince who flew, like abird hunted by the hawk, to their bosoms, he appealed to the pretendedloyalty of the Scotch Covenanters; and they sold him to those whothirsted for his blood.

  Yet neither the desperate state of the kingdom, nor the ruin of theirown fortunes, long since embarked in the same vessel with his rights,could compose the feuds of the western generals, or induce them toattend to the directions of the Prince's council, or to the disciplineand behaviour of their troops. The latter, from their intolerableinsolence and rapine, became formidable only to their friends; and theapproach of Fairfax was hailed, even in the best-disposed districts, asa signal of deliverance from the galling yoke of military extortion.Goring, the soldier's darling, who combined all the alluring qualitiesof a demi-god, was found to want the distinguishing marks of a Christianhero. Possessed neither of self-command, obedience, nor fortitude, hewas ever ready to dash at splendid actions, but was without resources inthe day of peril. He was too vain of his wit and companionable talentsto submit to the command of others, and too supine, dissipated, andrash, either to improve opportunities of action, or to defeat the viewsof the enemy. Such was the leader under whom Eustace hoped to serve hisking, and learn the art of war. His friend, Monthault, was a transcriptof all Lord Goring's faults, to which he added the most cool anddetermined treachery, under the garb of blunt simplicity and unguardedfrankness.

  It had been previously settled by the two friends, that their commonwants should be supplied from the purse of Major Monthault, in case theRoyal exchequer was inadequate to the supply of the army. That purse waseither soon exhausted, or closed by the sinister designs of the owner."It is his own fault if a soldier wants," was his answer to the urgentrequests of Eustace for a small supply. "We are now," returned theother, "quartered among friends, to whom we ought to be not onlypunctual but liberal, lest we indispose them to the service. You see theRoyal funds are scarcely adequate to the maintenance of the Prince. Youare aware that I must depend on you, as the circumstances under which Ileft Oxford prevent my asking my uncle to assist me." "Certainly youmust not," answered Monthault; "and I say again, a word will alwayscarve a dinner. This, I own, is called a well-affected district; butthere are many corrupted parts in it. Your host, for instance--a vilerepublican, a Presbyterian round-head--I saw him pelt the bishops whenthey appeared at the bar of the Lords, and join in a clamorous petitionto behead Lord Strafford. Give him a hint of this, and make him bleed.Tell him we will inform Sir Richard Greenvil of his behaviour; and talkof Launceston gaol."

  Eustace had long thought that every man concerned in either of thoseproceedings deserved the gallows, and fancied he could perform theoffice of executioner. He therefore made less scruple to require apecuniary commutation for those offences, but thought the proceedsshould be carried to a public account. Monthault laughed at thissuggestion, said that self-preservation was the soldier's motto, andbegged he would only bring the sum total to him, and his receipt shouldbe a full discharge.

  Eustace met Monthault next morning with a blank aspect. The accused hadnot only protested his innocence, but offered to bring testimony that hewas in Devonshire at the time. Alarmed, however, at the impendingcharge, and knowing that riches were in these cases construed in
to aproof of guilt, he offered half the sum demanded as a present, providedMonthault would be his friend and protect him from further contribution.

  Monthault held out his hand carelessly, and only said, "Disburse."Eustace protested that his principles would not permit him to take acommutation for offences from a person whom he believed innocent.Monthault flew into a rage, asked Eustace if, in a battle, or whenstorming a town, he would stop to ask those he met, "Pray, Sir, are youin heart a rebel? Good Master, were you pressed into the service?"before he hewed them down with his broad-sword? The very proposal of abribe implied guilt. Eustace acknowledged there was weight in thatremark; the offered sum was taken; Eustace carried it to his superior,and received the jackall's share.

  Indignant at the wrong, the plundered Loyalist, for such indeed he was,appealed to the Prince's courts. The Lords Hopton, Capel, and theincorruptible Hyde, formed part of that body; and it will beanticipated, that only a want of ability to redress the wrong, preventedimmediate reparation. The power of Lord Goring protected his favourite,Monthault; but it was thought proper to reprove the youth, who had actedas his agent. Eustace was summoned before the council. Shame andself-reproach bowed his erect head, and cast a gloom over his ingenuousfeatures. The President explained how greatly such actions endangeredthe fugitive King, whose life now depended on the fidelity of hissubjects, as he flew from post to post, seeking to hide his proscribedhead. Eustace burst into tears. "I need proceed no further," continuedLord Hopton, "tell me what urged you to this base action."--"Necessity,"replied Eustace, with a look of deep contrition. "That is a bad plea,"returned the nobleman, "and urged with a bad grace, by those who refuseto admit it as an excuse for the crimes of rebels. In this instance too,I fear it is a false one. I know you are one of the party, whodistinguish themselves by their midnight carousals in Major Monthault'squarters. The necessity which arises from dissipation, can never beurged to excuse peculation."

  "Place me in the forlorn hope," said Eustace, "the first time you haveany desperate service, and let me expiate my crime."

  "So keen a sense of it," resumed Lord Hopton, "is its own punishment.Your name is Eustace Evellin. I have heard of a youth so called.--AtOxford he was said to be one of uncommon hope, the son of a nobleLoyalist, distinguished alike for honour and valour; the nephew of alearned divine, a confessor in the cause of monarchy and episcopacy. Areyou that person?"--Eustace answered by a burst of agonized grief.--LordHopton took him aside, and slided a purse into his hands; "Use thisfrugally," said he; "'tis the mite of one, whom duty has stripped ofsuperfluities, yet apply again to the same source, rather than give yourown heart the pangs which I see it now endures."

  "But I am disgraced," said Eustace, with a look which at once bespokeintolerable anxiety and ardent gratitude. Lord Hopton answered, "I blushwhile I tell you that your fault is too general, to stigmatize those whocommit it; but I mistake your character, if you find in its frequency anapology for repeating the crime."

  Eustace retired; his dejected heart was warm with approbation of hisexcellent reprover; yet burning with impatience to obliterate allremembrance of his error, by some brave action which should prove thathe was not unworthy the clemency and confidence which his appearance hadexcited. He told Monthault what had passed. "The old Prig worded itbravely," said he, "but in one respect he is better than most of yourprecise moralists. Come turn out the pieces--share and share alike youknow; and just now they are quite convenient, as there is not a singledoit in my purse." Eustace hesitated, knowing that its contents had beenleft at the billiard-table, but at length complied, with a secretdetermination that the partnership should immediately terminate.

  While his mind still ruminated on the blight which his budding laurelshad received, it occurred to him that it would be possible to surprisean advanced post of Sir Thomas Fairfax's army, which lay at a smalldistance from the town of which Monthault was intrusted with thecommand. When Eustace suggested the plan to his friend, the latterencouraged the attempt. It had many recommendations to his treacherousheart. The design was so full of danger, that it was most likely to endin the destruction of the whole party, and next to the disgrace, thedeath of Eustace was what he secretly desired. Nor did he forget thatincursions into the energy's quarters could not be made, withouthazarding the safety of the town where he was posted, and which LordGoring told him was of the utmost importance to preserve the line ofdefence that covered the Royal army. With the true spirit which actuatedthe western commanders in this disastrous campaign, Monthault caredlittle what detriment the King received, so he might ruin a rival. Hehowever, took care to shift the responsibility from himself. "If you askme whether it is feasible," said he to Eustace, "I confess, I think thatnothing but great valour, joined to great good fortune, can accomplishthe design. But if you pant for glory, you know the adage, 'successattends the brave.' The glory shall be all your own, for as the letterof my orders forbids all hazards, I must officially be ignorant of yourundertaking; though, as a friend, I will allow the night-guard toconsist of picked men, whom you may dispose of as you think proper."

  To succeed in a desperate enterprise, required more experience andbetter intelligence than Eustace possessed.--Brave in vain, he only ledhis followers to death or captivity. He was rescued from sharing theirfate by a trooper, who, seeing him fainting from loss of blood, liftedhim on his own horse, and galloped with him to the head-quarters. Thepost where Major Monthault was stationed, being weakened by the loss ofthis detachment, fell into the enemy's hands.

  Miscarriages were too frequent to excite long clamour; but thedisobedience of a positive command was, in this instance, too marked tobe passed over in silence. Monthault, on being examined, denied havingcommanded the enterprize. Had he advised, or permitted it, was aquestion put by one of the council; it was over-ruled as inadmissible byLord Goring; and Monthault made a specious appearance, by talking loudlyof the gallantry and excellent intentions of his friend. Pale, wounded,and dejected, Eustace was unable to raise his eyes, fearing nothing somuch as the calm severity of Lord Hopton's aspect. The hopes he hadformed were blasted; his promised course of glory and success was turnedto shame and misfortune; nay, worse, he had materially injured thePrince, whom he would have died to serve.--He stood almost senselesswhile he heard himself ordered under an arrest, and to be kept from dutyfor a fortnight. That time was indeed scarce sufficient to heal hiswounds; but Eustace could not separate in his mind the restrictionsimposed by kindness from the punishment of disobedience.

  His extreme agitation moved the compassion of the centinel who wasplaced over him, and who was indeed the same brave trooper who had savedhis life. "Courage, noble Captain," said he; "Their Honours, the Lordsof Council, only lock you up to give you time to get well. When theyasked me about the business, I told them you was as true a heart as everlifted broad-sword, only a little too hot--that's all; and one of them,the old Lord, with white hair, that looked at you so, wished that truehearts were more common. Your wounds will be well by the time you arelet out; and then we'll cut and slash the round-heads again. Shall wenot do them a good one, as we say in Lancashire?"

  The name of his native county threw the thoughts of Eustace into atrain, no less painful than the wounded feelings of a soldier.--Its dearemigrants, what would they now think of him! Even Constantia wouldabjure him:--surely she would never hear of his being reproved as apeculator, and ordered under an arrest for insubordination.

  "You are too brave a gentleman to mind a few slashes and thumps,"continued the talkative centinel; "the surgeon says they will heal up,and you'll have a whole skin again presently; so it must be some othersorrow which casts you down so. And nothing cuts a man up like sorrow,as I have heard good Dr. Beaumont say."

  The name roused Eustace to enquire how he knew the opinions of Dr.Beaumont, and the eclaircissement proved the centinel to be RalphJobson, the same person who refused to take the covenant at Ribblesdalein the beginning of the civil war, and had ever since felt such areverence for the Doctor, as to connect with
his name every sentiment towhich he affixed peculiar importance.--To have rescued his nephew fromdeath or captivity, was a most gratifying event to Jobson's honestheart; and he readily offered to do Eustace any service, even so far asto pass through the enemy's quarters, and inform the Doctor of hismisfortunes. "Not for the universe," replied Eustace, "in the presentsituation of affairs."--"True," answered Jobson, "we must not rob theKing of one brave heart just now; and though I was only a poor carter,and am now a trooper and quarter-master's man, mine is as true a heartas that old Lord's with white hair, that I liked the look of. So by wayof passing the time, shall I tell you how I got away from theconstables, sent by Squire Morgan to take me to Hull, and went toNottingham and listed under the King; aye, and fought for him too, whenLord Lindsey was killed at Edgehill; and helped to bury Lord Falkland,and the young Earl of Sunderland at Newbury; and saw Lord Newcastle'slambs dye their fleeces in their own blood; aye, and was taken prisonerwith the learned Mr. Chillingworth, who wrote against Popery atArundel-castle, and tended him when he lay sick, and was catechised byWaller's chaplains for being a Papist. He could have talked them alldumb, only he was speechless; and so at last they killed him with theirbarbarous usage. Why, Captain, I have seen the King of England dining ona hard crust, under a hedge, like a gipsey-stroller. How could you havestood such sights? Why your heart would have broke, instead of beingalive and merry to drub the round-heads, as I am."

  Jobson's narrative was interrupted by a visit from Lord Hopton. "Oncemore, Captain Evellin," said he, "I come to reprove you. That I do so,is a proof of your repeated errors, and of my conviction that theyproceed rather from inexperience, than a bad disposition." Eustaceexpressed his sincere gratitude and deep contrition. "On the formersubject," replied His Lordship, "since it relates to myself, I maycommand silence, and you must feel that your contrition cannot restoreto us the brave fellows we lost last night, or regain the post withwhich Major Monthault was entrusted. But I wish to ask if you knew thatpositive orders were given, to act only on the defensive?"

  Eustace was silent. The manner in which Monthault spoke of his orders,intimated that their letter and spirit were at variance, and how couldhe throw the shadow of blame on one who had so eloquently defended hisbehaviour before the council. "I see," resumed Lord Hopton, "there is amystery in this business; and as the desperate state of our affairsleaves me no power to punish breach of orders, we must endeavour tocorrect the past. Lord Goring has fled to France; despairing, I presume,of his master's cause. We have now to try to extricate ourselves fromthe difficulties into which discord and insubordination have plunged us.The Prince has this day required me to take the entire command of thearmy. 'I have not told His Highness, as hath of late been the fashion,that my honour would not permit me to accept it; but I have said that Iknew I could not take it at this time, without resolving to lose myhonour; yet since His Highness thinks fit, I am ready to obey him.' Ican now therefore do you a real service, by taking you out of ill hands.I will make you my military secretary, and keep you about my person. Thepast is forgot. As soon as you are able, come to my quarters; butremember, I require a positive estrangement from your past connexions."

  The transport of Eustace, at such a proof of confidence, may be readilyconceived, and he now felt assured that he should expunge all the stainson his reputation. But ill-fortune and misconduct still attended him, asindeed they did the army to which he was attached. The bands ofdiscipline had been too long relaxed. The general of the infantryrefused to obey Lord Hopton, and was committed to prison, to intimidateother mutineers; and though his rapine and extortion had exciteduniversal odium, so low was the general feeling of justice, that hispunishment caused yet greater discontent than his rapacity had done. Thetroops were as corrupted as their leaders; only a small body of horseand a few companies of volunteers, chiefly composed of gentlemen, couldbe depended upon, in an army drawn up in the extremity of the kingdom,to defend the last holds of Royalty, and protect the heir of the crownfrom sharing the fate of his father, who was at this time a prisoner inthe Scotch army at Newcastle, and scarce treated with the decency ofexternal respect.

  Whatever intrepidity, activity, and foresight could perform, was done byLord Hopton and his faithful coadjutors; but from the hour when heundertook the charge to that of the army's dispersion, "scarce a partyof guard appeared with half their appointed numbers, or within two hoursof the time they ought." On such enemies Fairfax rushed with theconcentrated forces of triumphant rebellion; yet if treachery had notaided his progress, the veteran's bands were again so strongly posted,that the victors would not have reaped bloodless laurels. But Goring'sbrigade (to which Monthault still belonged), being stationed to guard adown in front of the army, drew off without staying for orders, orintrenched Loyalists, before they had the least previous notice. Defeatand dispersion were the consequence. All efforts to rally the flyingtroops were vain, the officers cried out that their men could not bebrought to face the enemy, and Lord Hopton in vain endeavoured to availhimself of the chances that might result from delay, by proposing tosend to the Prince for directions how he should act. "Treat, treat," wasthe universal cry of the soldiers. Scorning to yield to such baseclamour, he indignantly bade them treat for themselves, and retiringwith the faithful few who adhered to his fortunes, to Pendennis Castle,falsified his own prediction by losing every thing but his honour, andthe last ebbing sands of a long life, wasted by toils and sorrows, thatleft him merely strength enough to attend the Prince, who had beencommitted to his trust, to a foreign country, where, exiled from hislarge possessions, the country and the friends he loved, he found arefuge from triumphant guilt and undeserved misfortune in the grave.

  To return to Eustace. The desertion of the post at Bodmin bore suchevident marks of treachery, that it could not be attributed to thegeneral trepidation and disorder which possessed the army, andcircumstances proved that a correspondence subsisted between Monthaultand the Parliamentary general, which the farce of taking him prisonerand committing him to close custody, when the King's forces weregenerally permitted to disband and return to their houses, stronglyconfirmed. Lord Hopton recollected that his designs had beencounteracted by Fairfax, in a manner which implied previous acquaintancewith his purposes. A moment of extreme irritation and anguish, such as ageneral must feel when he finds all his resources cut off, is notfavourable to candour or calm investigation. The connexion betweenEustace and Monthault was not dissolved. Notwithstanding the injunctionsof the General to hold no intercourse with his late associate, Eustacehad been seen in his company, and even detected in the act of writinghim a letter. Monthault corresponded with Fairfax; his (Lord Hopton's)own secretary held a private correspondence with Monthault; thus thecourse of treachery seemed developed. Lord Hopton felt that he had beendeceived by the ingenuous countenance of a handsome youth. He rejectedhis offer of accompanying him to Pendennis, and even demanded from himhis sword. "Go," said he, "and when one is again given you, serve youremployer with fidelity."

  Eustace was thunder-struck, and rushed after his commander to enquirethe cause of such severe treatment. "I forgave your extortion andlicentiousness," said the General, with a stern austere look whichpierced him to the soul; "I pardon the rashness which broke our line ofdefence, and weakened us by the loss of a brave detachment. After this Itook you into a confidential situation, and you betrayed your Generaland your Prince.

  "Never, never," was the exclamation of the tortured Eustace. "I own myother offences, but with my latest breath I deny being a traitor."

  "Have you not held a secret and prohibited correspondence?--Guilt chainsyour tongue. I hoped better things from Eustace Evellin. Farewell,repent and reform." These words were spoken as Lord Hopton mounted hishorse. Eustace threw himself on the ground, and in a frantic momentthought self-destruction allowable. Before principle had time to allaythis agony of acute feeling, a sob, that seemed to issue from a breakingheart, made him raise his head to see if there were any as wretched ashimself. A pale war-worn figure stood beside h
im, leaning on a carbine;his hat drawn over his eyes, and his body wrapped in a tatteredroquelaure. Eustace would have felt ashamed at yielding to suchexpressions of poignant distress before any observer, had not the morepainful consideration that this person had been a witness of hisdisgrace suppressed every other thought.

  "Did you hear the General speak to me?" enquired Eustace in a perturbedaccent. After a long pause the stranger answered, "I did."--Those wordswere uttered in a well-known voice; and at a moment of indelible shameand public ruin, Eustace saw the long-desired features of his father:that father, by whose side he hoped to have fought manfully, in defenceof his King and in pursuit of glorious renown, was the witness of anaccusation which even mercy could not pardon, and beheld him sinkingunder the consciousness of acknowledged offences. Dignified in misery,Colonel Evellin stood gazing at the youth on whose virtues his fondesthopes had reposed, now sunk far below even his own desperate fortunes.Eustace held his hands before his face, not daring even to ask ablessing, nor presuming to enquire how they happened to meet at thisawful crisis.

  Colonel Evellin first broke silence. "You are Eustace Evellin, my onlyson, for whom I cherished the remnant of my unfortunate life.--Boy, Iwas plundered of wealth, title, and reputation, by a perfidious friend.I submitted to obscurity and poverty, for I was blessed with a faithfulwife in your angel-mother. Thanks be to Heaven, she lives not to seethis day!--I have fought and bled for my King. I have endured hardshipswhich would paralyze your pampered niceness to hear described. Foreleven months I fed on carrion, reposed on filth, deafened with thesound of battering cannon, the shouts of besieging rebels, and thegroans of dying comrades. I have swam across rivers, warding the brokenice from my wounded body. I have, like a hunted wolf, dressed thosewounds in mountain-fastnesses, shunning the abode of man, and eludingpursuers whose mercy I disdained to ask. I have seen my King a prisoner,without power to redress his wrongs; my country a prey to tyrants; allher hallowed institutions overturned; but never till now, Eustace, was Icompletely wretched; for never did anguish, in its most desperateforebodings, whisper that I could be the parent of a traitor."

  "Oh, my father!" replied Eustace; "kill me with your weapon rather thanyour words. By the unimpeached honour of my blessed mother, I am notraitor."

  "Who spoke the accusation," returned the Colonel, "which I returned tohear, and to curse the hour of thy birth?--'Twas not the light reproachof petulant folly, anxious to shift the shame of defeat from its ownmisconduct.' The speaker was the wise, magnanimous Hopton."

  "But even wisdom and magnanimity may mistake."

  "Was there any intercourse which he interdicted, and you clandestinelycontinued?"

  "There was one who wound himself round my heart by ties which I wantedfirmness to dissolve, and I greatly fear he has been a traitor to hiscountry and me."

  "No expletives; no qualifying terms; no diminutive appellations, forcrimes that involve a kingdom's fate. Under the influence of this man,you have been rapacious, licentious, rash, regardless of subordination."

  "I have."

  "And not a traitor!--Gracious Author of my existence, do I live to hearsuch perversion of language from my Eustace? When all depended on thehonour and discipline of those who maintained the King's cause, my soncommits crimes which disgrace his religion, his profession, and hisprinciples, yet tells me he is no traitor."

  "I never betrayed the confidence of Lord Hopton," said Eustace,attempting to clasp his father's knees. "The correspondence I carried onwas to relieve the necessities of one who I thought had served me: notto disclose the secret plans of my General."

  "Off! thy touch is contamination;" said the stern soldier. Yet Eustaceperceived he melted as he spoke. "By our common wretchedness," continuedhe, "permit me to follow you. Let us throw ourselves into some garrison,where we may dearly sell our lives. I ask for nothing but to diedefending you. Let me but combat by your side, and you shall find,though I have greatly sinned, I can also greatly repent."

  "Oh, last of a noble stock!" said Evellin, while tears streamed fastdown his furrowed cheeks, "if thou dost repent, save thy life for bettertimes."--"Keep me but with you," returned Eustace, "and I shall becomeall you wish." "I mean to make for Oxford," said the Colonel; "darestthou go with me thither?" "No, no," replied the unhappy youth; "I darenot see Constance till I have erased my shames."--"The soul of thyparents spoke in that sentiment," said the Colonel, unable longer torestrain his arms from clasping his son; but the embrace was accompaniedwith that groan of woe, which spoke unsubdued repugnance and carelessanguish, yet it seemed to restore the half-expiring Eustace to life, atthe same time that it confirmed his resolution never to give occasionfor such another groan.

  Filial piety, which, in despite of all his errors, was a predominantsentiment in the mind of Eustace, soon pointed out to him, that thoughthe sight of his injured but beloved Constance, and her offended father,would, in his present circumstances, be insupportable, it was highlydesirable that his father should shelter his infirm frame under the roofof domestic friendship; and perceiving with joy that such was hisdesign, he forbore to persevere in his request of never more separatingfrom him. He knew that a few garrisons in the west still held out forthe King, and his sanguine temper taught him to hope, that some happyoccurrence might enable him to purify his blemished fame. ColonelEvellin encouraged this hope. Dearly as he prized his son's life,anxious as he was to preserve the true branch of the house of Nevillefrom extermination, a dead son, fallen in the cause of honour, wasinfinitely better than a living one stamped with the stigmas of traitorand villain.

  The advancing divisions of the enemy terminated the interview. Neithercould bear to witness the King's troops laying down their arms, or thetriumphant rejoicings of the Parliamentary forces. Colonel Evellin tookthe route to Oxford, which he hoped to gain by the most unfrequentedways; and Eustace intreating his father, if possible, to conceal hisdisgrace from his dear kindred, turned westward, determining to makeevery effort to rejoin Lord Hopton.