The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  “I have brought you to this spot for a particular reason,” observed Captain Ellesdon to the others. “Here Sir John Berkeley took boat on the night when he effected his escape to France, and if we arrange matters satisfactorily, I propose that his majesty shall join Limbry’s bark from the same place. No safer spot can be found, I am certain. There is not a habitation within a quarter of a mile.”

  “’Tis as private as could be desired,” said Colonel Wyndham. “And I am sure his majesty will approve of the arrangement.”

  “It has other advantages, which I need not enter into now,” said Ellesdon.

  “No; the perfect privacy of the spot is sufficient recommendation,” said Careless. “If we can secure the vessel all will be well.”

  They then quitted the beach, and rode singly along a narrow lane which led them over an eminence to Charmouth.

  This pretty and pleasantly situated little town is much changed since those days. Most of the old houses are gone, and have given place to modern habitations far less picturesque, but the general features of the place are the same, and the old inn at which the Royalists put up, as we shall proceed to relate, is still in existence.

  As they entered the village, Captain Ellesdon pointed out a pretty little house with a garden in front, and said:

  “That is Limbry’s dwelling. I will see whether he is at home.”

  He then rode towards the house, and calling out lustily, the summons was immediately answered by a buxom woman and her daughter, a good-looking damsel of some sixteen or seventeen.

  In answer to the captain’s inquiries, Dame Limbry informed him that her husband had just gone out, but would return presently.

  “He has not gone to Lyme, I hope?” said the captain.

  “No; he is somewhere in the village,” replied the dame.

  “That’s right,” cried Ellesdon. “I am going to the inn with these gentlemen. Send him there. I want to speak to him on business — on important business, mind.”

  Dame Limbry promised compliance, and the captain rode off. Not being devoid of curiosity, both mother and daughter watched the party alight at the inn, which was close at hand.

  “I wonder what Captain Ellesdon’s important business can be,” remarked Dame Limbry. “I shall make your father tell me.”

  “Such fine gentlemen as those can’t be traders,” said her daughter. “They look like Cavaliers.”

  “And Cavaliers they are, Dorcas, or I’m no judge,” said the dame.

  Meanwhile Captain Ellesdon and his companions, having sent their horses to the stable, entered the little inn, and being shown into the parlour by Dame Swan, the hostess, ordered a flask of sack.

  Just as the wine was brought, Stephen Limbry made his appearance, and was heartily welcomed. The shipmaster was stoutly built, and his bronzed complexion showed that he had undergone a good deal of exposure to the elements. His features were rather coarse, but he had a bluff, good-humoured expression, and looked perfectly honest and trustworthy.

  Saluting the company after his nautical fashion, Limbry sat down, and emptied the cup of sack filled for him by Captain Ellesdon.

  “My good dame tells me as how you have got some business for me, captain. What may it be?”

  “Take another glass of sack, Stephen, and you shall hear,” rejoined Ellesdon. “I have assured my friends here, Mr. Manly and Mr. Massey,” nodding to each, as he spoke, “that you are a right honest fellow and a staunch Royalist.”

  “You are pleased to give me a good character, captain,” said Limbry, laughing. “But I hope I merit it. At any rate, I serve my employers faithfully, and I hate a Roundhead woundily.”

  “I am quite aware of it, Limbry. And now, without further parley, I’ll explain my business to you. These gentlemen are Royalists.”

  “I guessed as much,” replied Limbry, with a knowing wink. “They don’t look like Roundheads.”

  “One of them, Mr. Massey,” pursued the captain, glancing at Careless, “was at Worcester.”

  “I hope he killed a lot of rebels. I shouldn’t be sorry if he had killed Old Noll himself,” observed Limbry.

  “Had that been the case things would have taken a different turn, and loyal men would not have been forced to fly from their country,” said Captain Ellesdon. “We want you to transport two or three distressed Cavaliers to France. You will do it, I am sure.”

  Limbry shook his head.

  “You don’t like the job,” cried Colonel Wyndham. “Say so frankly.”

  “Understand that you will be well paid — very well paid,” added Careless.

  “I’ve no disinclination whatsomdever to the job,” said the burly shipmaster. “On the contrary, I should be glad to serve any loyal gentlemen; and I don’t care so much for the payment, though I don’t mean to say as how I should object to it — but — —”

  “But what?” cried Ellesdon.

  “The risk is too great. If I were found out, I should be hanged as a traitor.”

  “These fears are idle,” rejoined Ellesdon. “Such precautions will be taken that you cannot be found out. Take another glass of wine, and pluck up your courage. I’ll tell you what has just occurred. Sir John Berkeley was taken over to France from this very port of Lyme, only a few days ago, and I have not heard that any skipper has been hanged for taking him.”

  “Be that true, captain?” asked Limbry.

  “True as gospel. Do you think I’d deceive you, man?”

  “Then I’ll do it!” cried Limbry, striking the table as he spoke with his heavy fist. “I’ll do it!”

  “Well resolved,” exclaimed Colonel Wyndham. “You’re a brave fellow, Limbry.”

  “You shall have sixty pounds for the job,” added Careless. “To be paid on your return.”

  “I don’t ask the Cavaliers’ names,” said Limbry. “And I don’t desire to know their rank and station — but I’ll take them to St. Malo.”

  “Now you show yourself the man I always thought you, Stephen,” said Captain Ellesdon. “When will you sail?”

  “On Monday next — that’s three days hence,” replied Limbry. “I cannot get ready afore, — seeing as how I have to take in ballast, and victual the ship, besides I must feign to have some lading; but on Monday, as I have said, I’ll hale the Eider Duck — that’s the name of my bark — out of the Cobb’s mouth, for fear of being beneaped, as the tides will be at the lowest at the time, and about midnight I’ll bring her into Charmouth road, and send the long-boat with Tom Chidiock, of Bridport, and George Cranage, of Beaminster, two of my best mariners, to any spot that may be appointed to fetch the Cavaliers, and put them on board; and if the wind proves favourable, we’ll set sail at once for France.”

  “Heaven grant the wind may prove favourable!” ejaculated Ellesdon. “Send the long-boat to the mouth of the Char.”

  “A good spot,” replied Limbry. “It shall be done.”

  “Then all is settled?” said Colonel Wyndham.

  “All settled. Rely on me. Stephen Limbry is a man of few words, but he’ll stick by what he says. On Monday next, at midnight, my men shall bring the long-boat to the mouth of the Char.”

  “I shall see you again before that, Limbry,” said Captain Ellesdon.

  “As you please, captain,” replied the skipper. “The Eider Duck will be ready. I wish you good day, gentlemen.”

  Thereupon he went out, leaving the others overjoyed at the result of the negotiation.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XI.

  OF THE ARRANGEMENTS MADE BY HARRY PETERS WITH DAME SWAN.

  Our three Royalists did not make any stay at the little inn at Charmouth, after their negotiation with Limbry had been so satisfactorily concluded, but ordered their horses, paid their reckoning, and departed. They did not return by the beach, Captain Ellesdon being desirous to show his companions a secluded farm-house belonging to his father, about a mile and a half off among the downs, where he thought the king should halt on the appointed day, before proceeding to Char
mouth.

  “Lonesome the place is called,” said Captain Ellesdon, pointing out the solitary house, “and it well deserves its name, since there is not another habitation within a mile of it. The farm is let, but the tenant is an honest fellow, on whom I can rely. I will come there early on Monday, and wait his majesty’s arrival. I have likewise just bethought me that Lyme fair occurs on Monday. Consequently, the town will be thronged, and so will Charmouth. Rooms must, therefore, be engaged beforehand at our little inn. Another point requires consideration. His majesty and those with him will have to sit up till midnight, and if they quit the house at that late hour, suspicion may be excited. Some pretext, therefore, must be found to satisfy Dame Swan and her servants.”

  “Very true,” replied Colonel Wyndham, “I will send my servant, Harry Peters, to Charmouth. He will invent some plausible tale that will impose upon the hostess.”

  Their business at Lonesome being accomplished, the party rode across the downs to Lyme Regis, and repaired to the George. Harry Peters was at once despatched on his mission, and during the absence of the trusty groom, Colonel Wyndham and Careless dined with Captain Ellesdon, at the residence of the latter.

  Concocting his scheme at he rode along, Harry Peters arrived at Charmouth full of confidence, and alighting at the little inn, sent his horse to the stable, and ordering a flask of sack, begged the pleasure of Dame Swan’s company for a few minutes in the parlour.

  After a few preliminary observations, and the offer of a glass of wine, which was graciously accepted by the hostess, he delicately approached the business.

  “I have a very great favour to ask of you, madam,” he said, “but I am inclined to think you will readily grant it, since the happiness of two young persons depends upon your willingness to assist them. When I tell you it is a love affair, I shall have said enough, I am convinced, to awaken your tender sympathies. I must not mention names, but my master has gained the affections of a very beautiful young gentlewoman. Unluckily, her father refuses him her hand. Prayers have been in vain. Cruel father, you will say! Such fathers, however, reap their own reward, and are deceived like jealous husbands.”

  “Generally,” observed the hostess, sipping her wine.

  “You will not be surprised, therefore, madam, that the young gentlewoman in question, justly provoked by such harsh treatment, has yielded to her lover’s prayers, and agreed to run away with him.”

  “In good sooth, I am not surprised at it, sir,” remarked Dame Swan. “I should have done just the same myself at her age, and under similar circumstances.”

  “Say you so, madam! Then I have no hesitation in claiming your assistance. On Monday next the elopement will take place. Promised a refuge with you, the young couple will come here. That they may not be interfered with, I am directed by my master to engage all the rooms in the house.”

  “Stay! Lyme Fair is held on Monday, and we are always full on that day. I dare not promise the rooms.”

  “But I will pay double for them, and make you a handsome present into the bargain. It must be Monday. No other day will suit the young gentlewoman.”

  “Well, I would not disappoint her for the world. You shall have the rooms, and I will put off my other guests.”

  “I expected nothing less from you, madam. But you will not lose by your good nature. You will make friends of the young people for life. Another danger has to be guarded against. The lovers may be pursued, and chance may bring the angry father here.”

  “Mercy on us! I hope not,” exclaimed the hostess.

  “Do not alarm yourself, madam. Such an untoward event is not likely to occur; but every precaution ought to be taken. The young pair must sit up during the night, and their horses be kept ready saddled and bridled, so that they can be off at a moment’s notice. You must be pleased to give directions to your servants accordingly.”

  “You may depend upon me, sir,” said Dame Swan. “All preparations shall be made for the young couple. I take a particular interest in them, and to insure their being properly attended to, I will sit up myself.”

  “I do not think that will be necessary, madam; but as you please. My master begs your acceptance of half a dozen pistoles.” And he slipped them into her hand as he spoke.

  “He acts like a gentleman — that is quite certain,” said Dame Swan.

  “And now for the rooms. Shall we say half a dozen pistoles more?”

  “That will be most handsome payment.”

  “On an occasion of this kind one must behave handsomely,” said Peters, putting down the money. “My master is rich — at any rate, he will be so.”

  “I hope he has got an heiress,” observed the hostess.

  Peters said nothing, but winked significantly.

  This concluded the arrangement.

  Everything being settled in a manner entirely satisfactory to both parties, the adroit emissary took leave of Dame Swan, and rode back as quickly as he could to Lyme, being anxious to communicate the good news to his master and the others.

  On hearing his account of the affair, they laughed very heartily, and complimented him on the skill he had displayed.

  The party then went down to the Cobb to look at the Eider Duck, and were very well satisfied with her appearance. At Captain Ellesdon’s earnest request our two Royalists agreed to pass the evening with him, and did not return till next day to Trent.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XII.

  HOW THE KING PLAYED AT HIDE-AND-SEEK AT TRENT.

  While these preparations for his escape were so successfully made, Charles had run considerable risk of capture.

  On the evening of the second day he was alone in his chamber, occupied with reflections, and wondering what Colonel Wyndham and Careless were about, when Juliana entered suddenly, and with anxiety depicted on her charming countenance informed him that the Reverend Hold-up-Hand Meldrum had been questioning the women-servants about the new groom who had lately arrived at the house.

  “The inquisitive minister came to the kitchen door,” she said, “and stating that he knew the young man was in the house, desired to speak with him. Both Eleanor Withers and Joan Halsenoth declared that the groom was gone, but Mr. Meldrum affirmed the contrary, adding that he suspected the young man was a malignant Cavalier in disguise, and was certain he was hidden in the house, and as he would not come forth, he would bring those who would find him. As the two women made no answer, Mr. Meldrum departed, but they think he will make good his threat. I believe so too, and I therefore advise your majesty to conceal yourself, for of course you will not see him.”

  “Humph! I don’t know that,” observed Charles. “I am sure I could baffle him.”

  But he changed his tone, when, shortly afterwards, Joan Halsenoth burst into the room, with a terrified look, exclaiming:

  “Mr. Meldrum is in the yard, and has got two troopers with him.”

  “Troopers! that looks serious!” cried the king. “Clearly, a strict search will be made.”

  “Not a moment must be lost. Conceal yourself, I entreat you,” cried Juliana.

  And as the king opened the secret door and disappeared, she and Joan removed every article likely to betray his presence.

  “Carry these to my chamber quickly, and hide them,” continued Juliana. “That done, bring down everything from my dressing-table, and we will arrange them here, as if the room were mine.”

  Joan obeyed, and in another minute returned with hair-brushes, combs, and other articles of the toilette, which were quickly placed as Juliana had directed.

  “Now go down-stairs and do thy best to dupe them,” cried Juliana. “I will remain here.”

  Left by herself, the young damsel stepped to one of the lattice windows that looked upon the yard, and being partially open, it enabled her to hear what was passing outside. She could not see the Reverend Mr. Meldrum, but she heard his voice, and perceived the troopers, who stood behind him.

  The servants, it appeared, had locked the kitchen door, which was of st
rong oak, studded with nails, and positively refused to unfasten it. They were talking to him through a small barred window.

  While Juliana was listening to what was going on, the secret door was cautiously opened, and Charles peeped out.

  “Are they gone?” he called out in a low voice, perceiving she was alone.

  “No, no,” she replied in the same tone. “Do not quit your hiding-place. They are below, but the servants won’t let them into the kitchen.”

  “That’s a pity,” cried Charles. “Most likely they would have stopped there. Those rogues are fond of the kitchen.”

  “They have got in,” said Juliana. “Mrs. Wyndham has unfastened the door. She will give them plenty of ale.”

  For a few minutes all remained quiet, and Charles ventured out of his hiding-place.

  “I don’t think they will disturb me,” he said.

  Just at the moment, however, Joan Halsenoth cautiously entered the room.

  “Mr. Meldrum and his companions are coming up-stairs presently,” she said. “They have poked their noses into every hole and corner below, and mean to search every room in the house. So you must prepare for them.”

  And she disappeared.

  Charles again retreated to his hiding-place, but paused before closing the door.

  “Can you not give me a signal,” he said, “in case it should be necessary for me to descend the secret staircase?”

  “I can tap against the panel,” she rejoined. “But you had better remove the plank at once.”

  “I am not sure that I can find the plank,” he rejoined.

  “I will show you where it is,” she cried, flying towards him. But she stopped on hearing footsteps on the staircase.