“Any entertainment will suffice for me, Buxted,” Clavering rejoined; “but there is one with me whose high rank demands more than ordinary care.”
“High rank, said you, Master Clavering?” cried the host. “Surely, it is not our gracious master in person? Oh! if it should be, he shall be welcome to all Stephen Buxted possesses!”
“I know your loyalty and devotion, my worthy host,” Clavering replied. “But this is not the king. I would it were! he could not be in better hands than yours. But if your sovereign will not lodge with you, you will have one of his Majesty’s trustiest advisers as your guest. And who knows but ere long you may have the king himself beneath your roof!”
“It would, indeed, delight me to have an opportunity of testifying my loyalty!” cried Buxted. “But bid your friends come in at once, and do not remain out there in the yard. I hope your entrance into the village may not have been observed, for we have many curious gossips in Alfriston, though they are, for the most part, well affected towards the king. I will say that for them.”
“So far as I can judge, our arrival has been wholly unnoticed,” said Clavering. “We did not encounter a soul in the street, and no one that I observed looked forth at us. But I will now go and fetch my friends.”
“And I will be with them in a moment,” the host replied. “I will but go upstairs and put on a few clothes, that I may attend upon them more decorously.”
With this he disappeared, while Clavering crossed over to the stables, and presently returned with the rest of the party, all of whom entered the house. As our young friend knew his way to the parlour, he did not wait for the host to conduct him thither, but ushered Lord Wilmot and Colonel Gunter into the room, where in another minute they were joined by the host, who by this time had managed to put on his doublet and hose. To honest Buxted’s inquiries as to what he could bring them, his guests replied that what they needed most was rest. Accordingly, he led them at once to sleeping apartments, of which there were, luckily, several unoccupied in the house, and he undertook to hide their martial accoutrements, as soon as they should have taken them off. Ere long the whole party, having placed their heads upon the pillow, lost the recollection of their perils and fatigue.
For nearly a week did Clavering and Colonel Gunter, with two out of the three followers belonging to the former — namely, John Habergeon and the elder Saxby — remain at the Star. During this time they ran many risks of discovery, strict search being made for them throughout the whole district by the Ironsides; but such were the precautions taken by Buxted, and so great the vigilance and fidelity of his household, that, though on one occasion a party of troopers actually came to the house and remained there more than an hour, subjecting the host and hostess and all their servants to sharp interrogatories, they failed to detect their prey.
On the second night, Lord Wilmot took leave of his friends, and set out for Trent House, in Somersetshire — the residence of Colonel Wyndham, a distinguished Royalist — where he expected to obtain tidings of the fugitive monarch. His lordship was attended by Ninian Saxby, who was to be the bearer of intelligence as soon as there should be any to communicate. All such letters were to be addressed with the greatest privacy to Colonel Gunter’s residence, Racton, near Chichester, whither he and Clavering intended shortly to proceed.
Endeavours were made by the two Cavaliers left behind at Alfriston to engage a vessel for the king’s service, and with this object many secret visits were paid to Newhaven by John Habergeon and Eustace Saxby — it not being deemed prudent that the principals should be seen — but without much prospect of success.
At the expiration of a week the two Cavaliers began to tire of the inactive life they were leading. Clavering’s wound had nearly healed, and he had quite recovered the use of his arm, so that he was now fit for any service. They therefore resolved to quit their present asylum, and proceed to Racton. But the Ironsides being still as much on the alert as ever, it behoved them to be exceedingly cautious in their movements. Disguises were therefore procured for them by Stephen Buxted, of such kind as would be most likely to elude suspicion; but, for greater security, they started on their journey soon after midnight, and on foot.
We shall find them at a halting-place on their way ere long; but, meanwhile, we may mention that Eustace Saxby had left them to pay a stealthy visit to Ovingdean Grange, and ascertain how matters were going on there; and that John Habergeon was to make a last attempt on that very night to hire a vessel at Newhaven, the result of which he had undertaken to communicate to Clavering and Colonel Gunter in a manner hereafter to be described.
CHAPTER V.
How Mr. Beard And Dulcia Were Taken.
As Hostages For Colonel Maunsel
IT will now be necessary to go back to the night on which the Royalists made their escape from Stelfax, in order to see how that officer comported himself after the loss of his prey. He returned to the house breathing vengeance against all those who had aided the prisoners in their flight — foremost amongst whom was Colonel Maunsel. The execution, however, of his vindictive schemes was deferred till the morrow, his chief desire at present being, if possible, to recapture the fugitives. But, as the Royalists had foreseen great delay was experienced in catching the horses, and even when this point was achieved, for some time the bridles and saddles could not be found. But although nearly an hour was thus wasted, the infuriated Republican officer would not relinquish the design of pursuit. Submission to defeat was intolerable to him, and so long as a chance remained of retrieving his discomfiture, he was resolved not to throw it away. In less than an hour, then, after the departure of the fugitives, he started in pursuit, at the head of some seven or eight men. Delves was left behind, with orders to watch over the house, and though he pleaded hard to be allowed to accompany his leader, permission was not granted him. Stelfax had noted the course taken in the first instance by the fugitives, and galloping to Rottingdean, ascertained from a fisherman, who had heard the cavalcade pass his cottage, that they had gone on towards Newhaven. To the latter place, therefore, Stelfax rode with all possible dispatch, but his mortification and rage were boundless, when, on arriving at the ferry, he found that the Royalists had got across, and that the boat was turned adrift. Further pursuit was, therefore, out of the question, as he was well aware there was no means of crossing the Ouse nearer than the bridge at Lewes.
After a brief debate with himself, Stelfax, unable to brook the idea of returning empty-handed, sent back his men to Ovingdean, and rode on alone by the western side of the levels, through Rodmill and Kingston to Lewes; proceeding at once to the castle, where the detachment under his command was quartered. His first business was to call out one-and-twenty men, whom he divided into three parties, assigning to each a separate district — thus one party was instructed to make a perquisition of the coast, from Seaford to Eastbourne; another the mid-country, comprehending Beddingham, the Firle range of downs, Alciston, Selmeston, and Hailsham; and a third Mount Caburn, Glynde, Laughton, and Ringmer. The men were, in short, to scour the whole country to the south-east to Lewes, making a circuit of fifteen or twenty miles, or more if needed, and not to return without bringing the fugitives with them. It had been Stelfax’s intention to take the command of one of these parties, but he began to find that fatigue had made some inroads even upon his iron frame, and that if he did not allow himself repose he might break down. Contenting himself, therefore, with giving such precise instructions to the men as he fancied must ensure the accomplishment of his purpose, he flung himself upon his hard soldier’s couch, and became presently oblivious of his cares.
His instructions were carefully obeyed. The whole district he had indicated was traversed by his men; but without effect. No traces of the fugitives could be detected. Whither they had gone after leaving Newhaven was a mystery that could not be solved — no one appearing to have seen them. Even when the pursuers were really on the right scent, they remained at fault. A visit, as we have already mentioned, was paid to
the Star at Alfriston; but though the whole of the fugitives were at that time in the hostelry, they were so well concealed that not the slightest suspicion of their propinquity was entertained by the Ironsides. In anticipation of a visit of the kind, the horses brought off by the Royalists had been removed to an out-of-the-way shed at some distance from the inn. Luckily, no one in the village had witnessed the arrival of the fugitives, so betrayal was impossible, except by the ostler, and there was no fear of him. From Alfriston the troopers went on to Wilmington, where of course they did not learn much. But besides missing the objects of their quest, all three parties were more than once duped by false intelligence. Notwithstanding their disappointment, the search was continued throughout the day, and it was only at nightfall that the three divisions returned to Lewes, and faced their wrathful leader. Their failure was a heavy blow to Stelfax. He had delayed his return to Ovingdean till night, hoping to go back in triumph. But shame, and the sense of discomfiture, detained him till the next day, when, determined to make an imposing appearance, he rode thither at the head of fifty men.
By this time, owing to the exertions of the sergeant, discipline had been completely restored among the men left under his charge. Helpless Henly and the two others, who had been guilty of insubordination and drunkenness, were still under arrest. Delves was therefore able to give a satisfactory account of himself to his leader but it was not equally satisfactory to Stelfax to learn that Colonel Maunsel was dangerously ill, and entirely confined to his bed. The vexations and anxieties undergone by the old Cavalier had proved too much for him. On the day after his son’s escape with the other Royalists, he was unable to leave his couch, and his enfeebled condition greatly alarmed those in attendance upon him. No improvement had taken place in his health, but rather the reverse, when Stelfax arrived at the Grange.
Without making any remark on the information he had received, but determined to judge for himself, the Ironside leader marched at once to the room in which the colonel was lying, and found him supported by pillows, and looking the picture of death. Mr. Beard and Dulcia were seated by the couch, and the former had a Bible on his knee. Both arose as Stelfax entered, and the old Cavalier made an effort to raise himself.
For a moment not a word was said. The stern Republican officer folded his arms upon his breast, and gazed steadfastly, but not without a slight touch of compassion in his glance, at the invalided, but still noble-looking gentleman before him. At length he said,
“I have come to carry you a prisoner to Lewes, Colonel Maunsel. Are you ready to go?”
“You must prepare a litter for my transport,” the old Cavalier replied, feebly. “I cannot move a limb.”
“Surely, sir,” cried Mr. Beard to Stelfax, “if you have any touch of humanity in your composition you will not attempt to move the colonel in this state. He will never reach Lewes alive.”
Dulcia cast a supplicating look at the Roundhead leader, but did not speak.
“Waste not your time in idle entreaties, my good friend,” observed Colonel Maunsel, feebly. “I know the ruthless and inflexible character of this man too well to suppose him accessible to the common dictates of humanity. Take me, sir,” he continued, sternly. “Bid your soldiers bear me, living, to the grave.”
“Remove him at your proper peril, sir,” exclaimed Mr. Beard. “I warn you again that he is dangerously ill. If he dies by the way, his death will lie at your door.”
“Such an occurrence, were it to take place, would not trouble me much,” Stelfax rejoined. “But I have no personal animosity to Colonel Maunsel, who, though an inveterate malignant, is a brave man, and I should be loth to abridge the little life left him. I will, therefore, consent to leave him undisturbed if a hostage be given me for his surrender in the event of recovery.”
“What hostage do you require, sir?” demanded Mr. Beard, quickly. “I am of little account, as compared with my honoured patron. Yet, peradventure, I may suffice.”
“Not alone, sir,” Stelfax replied. “I must have your daughter as well.”
“Accede not to the proposition, my good friend,” Colonel Maunsel observed, faintly. “Above all, place not Dulcia in this man’s power. Let him take me. What are a few hours more of wretched existence to a sufferer like myself? Better — far better! they were ended!”
“It must not be so, father,” Dulcia interposed. “Since hostages are required, who so fitting as we, who owe all to our generous protector?”
“You are right, my child,” said Mr. Beard. “The course we ought to pursue is manifest. We will go.”
“I will not consent to this,” cried Colonel Maunsel. “Dulcia may be taken to the Castle, and placed in its dungeons or in the martyr-cells beneath the White Hart, which have of late, as I understand, been put to their former use. Such barbarity shall never be practised if I can hinder it.”
“I have no design to place either Mr. Beard or his daughter in actual durance, unless compelled, Colonel Maunsel,” replied Stelfax. “All I require is to have them in safe custody. They may choose a lodging where they will in Lewes.”
“Promise me that, on your honour as soldier, and I am content,” rejoined the old Cavalier. “If I am ever able to leave this couch, I will deliver myself up to you, and then their immediate release must follow. Meantime, I consider myself your prisoner on parole.”
“Enough, sir,” rejoined Stelfax. “You have the promise you require from me.”
The old Cavalier then addressed himself to Mr. Beard, and looking anxiously at him, said,
“Use my name with Master Zachary Trangmar of the Priory House, and I doubt not he will provide you and Dulcia with a lodging.”
“What! the old usurer of Mock-Beggar Hall!” exclaimed Stelfax. “I know him. He has rooms enow, and to spare; but I doubt if much furniture will be found within them.”
“There will be sufficient for us if we obtain shelter,” replied the good clergyman, fearing lest some fresh difficulty should be thrown in the way of an arrangement which he thought beneficial to his patron. “My daughter and myself will but make a few needful preparations, and we shall then be ready to attend you.”
Patty Whinchat here emerged from the corner into which she had retreated on the entrance of the Ironside captain, and besought his permission to accompany her young mistress, which was readily accorded her. Telling Mr. Beard that he should set forth in half an hour, Stelfax bowed a stiff adieu to the old Cavalier, and, quitting the room, strode down the grand staircase to the entrance-hall, where he found Delves awaiting orders.
Meantime, the good clergyman and his daughter bade farewell — it might be, from the sad state in which they left him, an eternal valediction — to their kindly patron; Mr. Beard invoking blessing on the worthy gentleman’s head, and praying Heaven to spare him; and Dulcia, who was drowned in tears, bending to receive the colonel’s benediction. This parting over, their place was supplied by Martin Geere, whose devotion to his master left no doubt that the old Cavalier would be carefully tended by him.
In allowing Colonel Maunsel to remain at his own house a prisoner on parole, and taking Mr. Beard and his daughter as hostages for the old Cavalier’s surrender in case of recovery, Stelfax was influenced by other motives than those which he allowed to appear. Under such an arrangement, Clavering Maunsel and his friends were not unlikely, he judged, to pay a secret visit to the Grange, and might — were due vigilance observed — be recaptured; while, by withdrawing Dulcia from her present asylum, he would have her altogether in his power. Not wishing to alarm her and Mr. Beard too much in the first instance, he had proposed a lodging in the town, and was well pleased when the colonel mentioned old Zachary Trangmar, in whom he felt sure a ready instrument would be found. Such were some of the motives that influenced him; but he might have others, for his designs were dark and inscrutable. But while abandoning Ovingdean Grange, Stelfax deemed it necessary that careful watch should be kept over the house, and no one appeared to him — for reasons which he scarcely liked to ack
nowledge to himself — to be so well qualified for the office of a spy as the person who had recently outmanœuvred him — namely, Increase Micklegift. But where was he to be found? Little expecting friendly overtures from the man he had injured, but dreading his vengeance, the Independent minister had fled. Stelfax questioned Delves about Micklegift, and the sergeant replied that there was in the village an elder named Morefruit Stone, who he thought might be able to communicate with the fugitive minister. Stelfax immediately caught at the suggestion, and said:
“Hie thee to Stone at once, and say unto him, that if he hath any means of communicating with Micklegift, he may inform him that I bear him no malice for what he hath done to me and to my men, but desire to do him a friendly service, and to that end request him to come over to me without delay to the castle at Lewes. Lest he suspect that, perchance, there may be a design to ensnare him, give him a solemn assurance of safety. About thine errand at once!”
Delves departed, and soon afterwards returned with the information that he had seen Stone, and had reason to believe he had succeeded in his object.
During the whole time that Stelfax remained at the Grange, the troop by whom he was attended were not permitted to dismount, but remained drawn up before the gates of the mansion, where, with their fine horses and polished accoutrements, they made a gallant show. The whole village turned out to look at them; and though the household at the Grange were in great terror of a second visitation, which might prove worse than the first — bad as that had been — their curiosity at last got the better of their fears, and they went forth to enjoy the spectacle. Greatly were Moppett, Crundy, and the rest rejoiced to learn that the unwelcome guests whom they had been obliged to entertain and serve for two mortal days and nights, and whose insults and ill-usage they had endured for that seemingly interminable period, were to be withdrawn. But their joy was somewhat damped by learning that good Mr. Beard and his daughter were to be taken away from them. However, since there was no help for it, they must needs submit. All they could do was to pray for the speedy return of the worthy pastor and Mistress Dulcia. It was a great matter that the colonel himself — as they feared he might have been — was not to be taken from them.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 577
