Mr. Petre felt much easier in his mind when he got out of Stratford, but chancing to cast a look behind him he saw a couple of troopers pursuing the same course, and fancying they must be following him his fears returned. He mentioned his apprehensions to his wife and Jane, but they treated them very lightly.
For some little time the road pursued by the party lay along the banks of the Avon, and offered delightful views of the town they had just quitted, with its picturesque old church and bridge; but after they had proceeded about a mile they quitted the gently-flowing river, and struck across a wild district that presented but few attractions. However, they were now not far from their destination, but before they reached it the aspect of the country had materially improved.
A large, substantially-built farm-house of the better class, Long Marston looked like what it was, the abode of an unostentatious country gentleman. The transomed windows and arched doorway showed the antiquity of the house. In front was a large pond bordered by trees, and at the back there was an old-fashioned garden, and beyond that an extensive orchard.
Evening was coming on as our travellers approached the house, and coloured by the warm sunset the grey old structure appeared to great advantage.
Of good family, and living upon his own estate, Mr. Tombs, the owner of Long Marston, was blessed with a very amiable, affectionate partner, so that we may venture to say that he was a happy man. He did not keep a large establishment, but lived in a quiet, comfortable style, and was thoroughly hospitable. With his rosy, handsome countenance, beaming with health and good humour, and his stout figure, he looked the personification of a country gentleman. Mrs. Tombs, who was some years younger than her husband, was likewise rather stout, but well-proportioned and comely.
Such was the well-assorted and kindly couple that greeted the party on their arrival at Long Marston. They were very glad to see Mr. and Mrs. Petre, but their warmest greeting was for Jane Lane, who was an especial favourite with both of them. Of course, Mr. Petre had a good deal to tell of the difficulties experienced at Wootton and Stratford, and was congratulated on getting through them so well; but Jane made no remarks, and indeed she was occupied at the moment in giving private instructions to Charles, who was waiting for her orders.
“Don’t neglect your horse, Will,” she said, in a significant tone. “Groom him well and feed him well. Don’t gossip with the men at the stables, but as soon as you have finished your work go to the kitchen.”
Charles promised obedience, and took his horse to the stables, which adjoined the house.
“That’s a new groom, Jane,” observed Mr. Tombs. “I don’t recollect seeing him before.”
“You never saw me travel in this fashion before,” replied Jane; “and I shouldn’t do so now if I could help it. But it is dangerous to go alone.”
“It’s not safe to travel in any way in my opinion,” observed Mr. Tombs. “But you are a courageous girl, Jane. After your exploits at Worcester, I shan’t be surprised at anything you do — not even if you turn soldier.”
“Nothing daunts her,” cried Mr. Petre. “She would ride through the rebel pack at Wootton.”
“Though you didn’t like to face them,” laughed Mr. Tombs. “Well, I should have acted in the same way myself. I don’t mean to go near Stratford, while it is occupied by the enemy.”
“Nothing surprises me that Jane does,” remarked Mrs. Tombs to Mrs. Petre; “but I wonder you like to travel when you are constantly liable to be stopped and maltreated by these Roundhead troopers.”
“I don’t like it, I assure you,” replied Mrs. Petre. “But we want to get back to our house in Buckinghamshire. If I could have anticipated the annoyances I have met with I would never have left it.”
“But you are going to Bristol, I understand, Jane?” said Mr. Tombs, turning to her.
“I am going to the Nortons of Abbots Leigh,” replied Jane. “Their place is about three miles from Bristol. I would have postponed my visit to a more convenient season — but I have something important to do.”
“But I hope you mean to spend a day or two with us?”
“Quite impossible,” rejoined Jane. “On my return I shall be delighted to stay with you. But not now. I must start early in the morning.”
“But you can’t reach Abbots Leigh to-morrow.”
“No, I shall pass the night at Cirencester.”
“You can’t do better,” remarked Mr. Tombs. “There is a good inn there, kept by a very worthy woman, Widow Meynell, who will take every care of you.”
“I know Widow Meynell very well,” replied Jane, “and shall feel as much at home with her as I do here.”
“Well, let us go in-doors,” said Mrs. Tombs, leading the way.
They then entered the house, which was larger and more commodious than its exterior seemed to promise.
“You know your own room, Jane, so I needn’t show you to it,” said Mrs. Tombs.
Jane tripped up the old oak staircase, while her sister and Mrs. Tombs followed more leisurely.
* * *
CHAPTER X.
HOW CHARLES INCURRED THE COOK’S DISPLEASURE.
Having finished his work in the stable, the supposed Will Jones proceeded to the kitchen, where he found Bridget the cook preparing supper. Bridget was fat and not ill-looking, but something must have gone wrong, for she did not accord the new-comer a very gracious reception. The kitchen was large, occupying the entire ground floor of one wing of the house, and was lighted on either side by deep mullioned windows, filled with lattice panes. From the huge rafter supporting the low ceiling hung a goodly collection of hams. At the further end was an immense fireplace, before which, dangling from a jack, slowly revolved a large joint of beef.
Charles saluted Bridget very respectfully, but she only just nodded her head, and said:
“You’re Will Jones, Mistress Jane Lane’s groom, I suppose?” And receiving an answer in the affirmative, she went on. “Well, then, make yourself useful, Will Jones, and see that the meat is properly roasted. I’ve plenty to do without attending to the jack.”
Deeming it necessary to conciliate her, Charles marched at once to the fireplace. All went well for a few minutes, when the jack stopped. The king tried to put it in motion again but could not turn it. After several attempts to set matters right, he gave up the task in despair, when Bridget, who had been absent from the kitchen for a short time, returned, and at once made aware that the meat was burning, she rushed up, exclaiming furiously:
“Why, where have you been bred up, you lazy varlet, that you don’t know how to wind up a jack? I’ll teach you to attend to my orders in future.”
So saying she snatched up the ladle from the dripping-pan, and threatened to belabour him with it.
“Come, come! my good woman,” cried Charles, seizing her arm, “this is carrying the joke a little too far.”
“I’m not a good woman, and I won’t be called one,” exclaimed Bridget. “And it’s not a joke to spoil the meat, as my master will let you know.”
And she struggled to get free, but the king held her fast.
At this juncture an interruption was offered by loud roars of laughter proceeding from a couple of troopers standing at the kitchen-door. Having approached unawares, they had witnessed the occurrence, and were highly diverted by it. On beholding them Bridget instantly calmed down, and the king released her. The troopers then stepped into the kitchen, and the cook having set the jack going again, asked them what they wanted.
“We have come in search of this young man,” said one of them, designating Charles. “We thought he might be a malignant, or, as you would say, a Cavalier in disguise, but we now think we must be mistaken.”
“He a Cavalier!” exclaimed Bridget, scornfully, “no more a Cavalier than I am. Go about your business directly, or I’ll spoil your red coats.”
And she flourished the greasy ladle menacingly.
“Nay, nay, good Bridget,” said Charles, trying to appease her. “Treat them ci
villy; they have found out their mistake. Draw them a jug of ale. They may give us trouble,” he added, in a whisper.
This consideration brought the cook to reason, and she left the kitchen, and presently returned with a foaming jug of ale. During her absence the troopers had seated themselves at a table, and as it was clear they would not depart without some refreshment, Bridget went back for some cold meat and bread, while Charles poured out the ale. By the time they had finished the cold meat the hot joint was ready, and they insisted on having a few slices. Bridget did not dare to refuse, and was also obliged to draw them another jug of ale. Charles waited upon them and pleased them so much by his attention, that they went away at last declaring he was a very honest young man, and had nothing of a malignant about him.
Shortly afterwards, Mr. Tombs entered the kitchen, accompanied by Jane Lane. Great consternation had been caused by the visit of the troopers, but as the men conducted themselves so quietly and made no disturbance, Mr. Tombs hoped they might be got rid of without any interference on his part. At last he yielded to Jane’s entreaties, and they went to the kitchen together, and were greatly relieved by finding that the enemy had departed.
“Look here, sir,” cried Bridget, “here’s a joint to send to table! But it’s not my fault. The rogues forced me to carve it for them.”
“Never mind, Bridget,” cried Mr. Tombs, laughing at her distress. “I’m thankful they’re gone. But what brought them here?”
“Most likely they only wanted a supper, sir,” replied Bridget; “but they pretended they came in search of that young man, declaring he was a Cavalier in disguise.”
“Ridiculous!” cried Jane. “Evidently a mere excuse to obtain a supper. What did they say to thee, Will?”
“They put a few questions to me,” replied the king. “But I soon convinced them of their mistake.”
“They were not very good judges,” remarked Mr. Tombs, in a low tone to Jane. “Now I look more narrowly at him, your groom has the air of a gentleman. Besides, it is fair to tell you that my suspicions were excited by the glance he threw at you as we came into the kitchen. Nay, you need have no disguise with me.”
The king’s eyes were fixed upon them, and before making a reply Jane consulted him by a look. She then took Mr. Tombs aside, so as to be quite out of Bridget’s hearing, and said in a whisper:
“You are right. Will Jones is not what he appears.”
“I felt sure of it,” rejoined Mr. Tombs in the same tone. “He must be a person of the highest importance, for I know you would not run this great risk for any one of inferior degree. I have my suspicions, but I scarcely dare breathe them.”
“Give them utterance,” said Jane.
“Is it the king?” he asked.
“It is,” she replied. “But be careful not to betray the secret by word or gesture. You must not even take your wife into your confidence. My sister and her husband are entirely in the dark, and must be kept so, for Mr. Petre is not a fit depositary for a secret of this vast importance.”
“I feel the prudence of your counsel, Jane, and will follow it strictly,” said Mr. Tombs; “yet I can hardly refrain from throwing myself at his majesty’s feet. Had I known who is here, how alarmed I should have felt at the visit of these troopers! Never should I forgive myself if aught were to happen to the king while he is under my roof. But I must see that he is attended to. Hark ye, Bridget, this young man must have a good supper. Do you hear that?”
“Yes, I hear it, sir,” she replied. “But he must wait till his betters have been served. Begging Mistress Jane Lane’s pardon, I must say that a more ignorant fellow than her groom never came into a kitchen. He can’t even wind up a jack! Ah! if I had him under my care for a month I’d work a change, I warrant him.”
“Hold your peace, Bridget. Take good care of the young man, or you’ll displease me,” said Mr. Tombs. “If thou art neglected, Will, complain to me.”
And fearing he might excite the cook’s suspicions if he said more, he quitted the kitchen with Jane.
But in spite of the worthy gentleman’s injunctions, Charles obtained nothing till the dishes were brought from the dining-room, when he was allowed to sit down with the servants, and eat as much as he pleased.
A small couch in a small room served his turn that night, but he slept very soundly, and waking early, hied to the stables to prepare for the day’s journey.
Charles was grooming his horse, when Mr. Tombs came into the stable, and making an excuse to send his men away, expressed his profound regret that he had not been able to pay his majesty more attention.
“I have not done more,” he said, “because I fear to trust my household.”
“I quite understand your motives, Mr. Tombs, and appreciate them,” said Charles. “And pray understand that it was from no want of faith in your loyalty, which was vouched for by Jane, that you were not trusted with the secret from the first. It was simply to spare you trouble and anxiety; and believe me, I am just as much obliged as if you had made preparations for my security. For this reason I counselled Jane to keep silence; but I am not sorry the disclosure has been made, since it affords me an opportunity of speaking to you freely. My object, as you will have conjectured, is to quit the country as speedily as I can, and take refuge in France, and for this purpose I am going to Bristol under the care of this devoted girl, who is hazarding her life for me. You have been an involuntary agent in the scheme, Mr. Tombs, and I hope you will have no reason to regret taking part in it.”
“Whatever betides, it will always be a matter of proud satisfaction to me that your majesty has found shelter at my house during your flight. That you have not been received in a more worthy manner is not my fault, but the fault of circumstances.”
“You have done all that I could desire, Mr. Tombs,” said Charles; “and I pray you to pursue the same course to the moment of my departure. Treat me as Jane Lane’s groom, and nothing more. Do not stay here longer, or you may excite suspicion.”
“Your majesty shall be obeyed,” replied Mr. Tombs.
And with a profound obeisance he withdrew.
When he had finished dressing his horse, Charles quitted the stables and found his way to the kitchen, where he met with a better welcome from Bridget than he had experienced overnight. He had found his way to her good graces at supper, and she now gave him an excellent breakfast.
Anxious, for many reasons, to start at an early hour, Jane made a hasty breakfast in her own room, and without waiting to take leave of Mrs. Tombs or the Petres, who had not yet made their appearance, went in quest of Mr. Tombs, whom she found in the garden. He told her what passed between him and the king, and how distressed he felt that he could not render his majesty any real service.
“If you think I can be of any use I will accompany you on your journey to Bristol,” he said. “I did not propose this to his majesty but I am ready to set out at once if you deem my attendance desirable.”
“I need not consult the king on the subject, because I know what his decision would be,” she rejoined. “His plans are settled, and he would not care to change them. Besides, your sudden departure would occasion remark among the household, and might draw suspicion upon us. Your wife would think it strange, for you could not explain your motives to her. No, believe me, you are far better at home at this critical juncture. Some unforeseen difficulty may occur after the king’s departure; another visit may be paid by the troopers, and your presence may be required to check indiscretion on the part of the servants. Were the Roundhead rogues to learn that you had gone on with us they would inevitably follow, and then there is no telling what the consequences might be. You can best serve the king by remaining at home. I will acquaint his majesty with your proposal, as well as with my reasons for declining it.”
No more was said, for noticing that Charles had brought the horse from the stables, they proceeded towards him. In another minute Jane was seated on the pillion behind the king. As some of the other servants were standing by,
Mr. Tombs was exceedingly cautious in his observations.
“I wish you a safe and pleasant journey, Jane,” he said; adding to the supposed groom, “be sure to take good care of your young lady, Will.”
“Fear nothing, sir,” replied the king, doffing his cap respectfully. And as Mr. Tombs drew somewhat nearer, he added, in a low tone, “when you next hear of me I trust it will be from France.”
Bidding her relative adieu, Jane ordered Will Jones to go on, and accompanied by many fervent prayers for the king’s safety, murmured in secret by Mr. Tombs, they soon gained the road to Chipping-Campden.
BOOK THE SIXTH. ABBOTS LEIGH.
CHAPTER I.
HOW THE TWO GROOMS CHANGED HORSES AT STOKE-ON-THE-WOLD.
A fine, fresh, autumnal morning gladdened Charles and his fair companion as they set out from Long Marston. The king was in excellent spirits, and laughed at his adventures on the previous night. After passing Church Honeybourne and Weston Subedge, they ascended Dover’s Hill, on which the renowned Cotswold Games, sung by Ben Jonson and Drayton, were celebrated in the time of the king’s grandsire, but were discontinued on the outbreak of the Civil Wars. While crossing this hill, which had been the scene of so many pleasant gatherings in former days, Charles promised himself that if he ever ruled the land those manly sports should be revived. From this eminence they looked down upon the fair and fertile valley in which Chipping-Campden is situated, and after enjoying the delightful prospect for a short time, they descended from the uplands and rode towards the pleasant old town.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 672
