The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  After dismounting in the court-yard, the earl immediately retired with the countess, and told her all the reverses he had sustained — how he had been thwarted in his intended assault of Manchester — how his best troops had been taken from him — and how Wigan had been captured.

  “Wigan captured!” exclaimed the countess, in amazement. “I heard it had been attacked — but I knew not it was taken.”

  “It was taken yesterday by Colonel Assheton, and is now in the hands of the rebels,” replied the earl, despairingly. “Only Warrington and this stronghold are left me. All else is gone.”

  “Do not despair, my dear lord,” she said, striving to cheer him. “Fortune will take a turn.”

  “I fear not,” he replied. “Things will get worse, instead of better. Warrington is certain to be attacked by the rebels, but it is well fortified and well garrisoned, and may hold out for a time; but if the whole county is in the hands of the rebels, I cannot maintain it. As the king will not have me with him, I must perforce retire to the Isle of Man.”

  “Not yet, my dear lord — not yet,” remonstrated the countess. “All is not lost. I will write to Prince Rupert to come to our assistance, and I doubt not he will accede to the request.”

  “You are mistaken, my dear heart. Goring and Jermyn, and the rest of the king’s advisers, who are hostile to me, will not let him,” observed the earl.

  “Nevertheless, I will write,” she said; “and I will send the letter by Frank Standish.”

  “A better messenger could not be found,” rejoined the earl. “If the prince will bring a sufficient force to Lancashire, all will be right. But I fear—”

  “Have no fear, my lord,” cried the courageous dame. “All will yet be well. Go forth, I pray you. See your children. Show yourself to the officers of the garrison. I will join you as soon as I have written the letter to Prince Rupert.”

  Very much cheered by his discourse with the countess, the earl proceeded to the great hall, where he found his daughters with Doctor Rutter, and embraced them tenderly, and then cordially greeted the chaplain.

  After this, he went forth into the court-yard, where all the officers of the garrison were assembled.

  Putting on as cheerful a countenance as he could assume, he thus addressed them:

  “You have heard we have just lost Wigan, and it is doubtless a very heavy blow to us, and a great gain to the rebels, but rest assured we shall recover the town. Meanwhile, we have Warrington, which is strongly fortified, and which we can hold till we receive assistance from the king.”

  “I hope the assistance may not be delayed, my lord,” said Captain Chisenhale.

  “When his majesty learns how we are situated, I trust he will send Prince Rupert to our assistance,” said the earl.

  These words, and the tone in which they were spoken, produced an excellent effect on the officers, who had been much depressed by the loss of Wigan.

  The earl next carefully inspected the whole garrison, and by his manner inspired confidence in the men.

  CHAPTER II

  What passed between Standish and Gertrude

  MEANTIME, Frank Standish had gone in quest of Engracia and her father.

  But before he could find them, he encountered Gertrude.

  “I grieve to hear you have lost Wigan,” she said.

  “Yes, the town was taken yesterday by Colonel Assheton, with the aid of your father,” he replied, gloomily.

  “Was my father with Colonel Assheton?” she inquired.

  “He was,” replied Standish.

  “I am sorry for it,” she rejoined. “But do not reproach me. I am not to blame.”

  “The rebels will attack Warrington next, and your father may give them further aid.”

  “Yes, I see, that is possible,” she replied. “I will try to prevent it.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I will go to Wigan and talk to him. Perhaps he may listen to my entreaties.”

  “That is not very likely. But the countess will not allow you to leave Lathom House on such an errand.”

  “I will find some means of getting away,” she replied.

  “Do not come to any decision till you have spoken further with me,” he rejoined.

  At this moment, Engracia was seen approaching with her father, and Standish went to meet them.

  “Ah, my young friend, I rejoice to see you,” said Don Fortunio. “But is it true you have sustained a reverse?”

  “Yes, we have lost an important town,” replied Standish; “and one I thought perfectly safe. All our late successes will now go for nothing. Warrington alone remains to us.”

  “And this castle,” cried Engracia.

  “Yes, but if Warrington falls, Lathom House will be besieged,” said Standish. “Do you think you ought to remain here?”

  “I am not at all afraid,” she replied. “I feel quite safe with the countess.”

  “You do not know what a siege is like, my child,” cried Don Fortunio. “The matter requires consideration. Would it be possible to quit the castle now?”

  “Yes, but a few days hence it may be too late,” replied Standish.

  “I do not wish to go, dear father,” said Engracia. “If you desire to depart, leave me here.”

  At this moment the countess appeared with her daughters. She had a letter in her hand.

  “I was looking for you, Captain Standish,” she said. “You must take this letter to Prince Rupert.”

  “To Prince Rupert!” he exclaimed in astonishment. “Unless I am misinformed, his highness is at Oxford with the king.”

  “It is to Oxford you will have to proceed,” replied the countess. “If you deem the journey too long, I will send another messenger.”

  “The journey is not too long for me, madam,” he replied. “If I have my lord’s consent I will willingly take the letter.”

  “His lordship has selected you for the errand,” said the countess.

  “Then I will set out at once,” replied Standish.

  “I felt sure I could rely on you,” she rejoined, with a smile. “You will deliver this letter into the prince’s own hands as speedily as may be, and bring me back an answer.”

  “I will, madam,” he replied, placing the letter in his doublet.

  Just then Lord Derby came up, and finding that the countess had already entrusted her letter to Standish, he took him aside, and charged him with a message to Prince Rupert.

  “You will be able to describe to his highness the exact state of affairs in Lancashire,” he said. “Tell him I deem it utterly impossible to hold out much longer without assistance. Had I succeeded in taking Manchester, all would have been well; but now the prospect is, indeed, dark.”

  “I will explain all to his highness,” said Standish; “and should I obtain an interview of the king, I will tell his majesty exactly how your lordship is circumstanced.”

  “You are a trusty messenger,” said the earl. “I need not tell you to lose no time on the journey. Take half a dozen men with you. You had better not set out till night.”

  Promising to obey his lordship’s direction, Standish went to choose the men, and as he proceeded to the stables, he met Gertrude.

  “Let me be one of your attendants,” she said.

  “You!” he exclaimed.

  “Yes. I have still my costume as a cavalier,” she replied.

  “But you forget the distance,” he rejoined. “You could not ride from this place to Oxford.”

  “I think I could,” she cried. “But I do not desire to go further than Wigan. Get me through the gates, and across the drawbridge, and I will soon find my way to my father.”

  “I see your purpose,” he replied, “and will aid you. You shall pass out with me to-night. A horse and all equipments shall be found you.”

  CHAPTER III

  How Gertrude accompanied Standish

  Having made all necessary arrangements, Standish returned to the court-yard, where he found Engracia and her attendant M
aria.

  “I am sorry we shall soon lose you again,” she said. “I hear you are starting on another expedition to-night. How long shall you be absent?”

  “I can scarcely tell,” he replied; “but I suppose three or four days. Should I not return, I hope you will think of me.”

  “Do not trifle with me,” she rejoined, with emotion. “I shall never cease to think of you. But when you do return, I hope you will stay here.”

  “I know not,” he replied. “I must obey orders. But unless shut up, I shall not stay here long. When I return from my mission I shall be posted with my lord at Warrington.”

  “Is Warrington far from this castle?” she inquired.

  “Not much more than an hour’s ride. If the rebels will let me, I shall often come and see you.”

  “You must not expose yourself to risk on my account,” she said, tenderly. “But pray inform me of your return. The time will pass wearily till then.”

  “That it will, I am sure, señorita,” remarked Maria. “Ah, señor, my young lady thinks only of you.”

  “Fie, Maria!” cried her mistress. “You should not betray secrets.”

  “But it is right the caballero should know how much you care for him,” said Maria. “It will console him.”

  “You are right,” cried Standish.

  In such discourse as this they passed away the time, and so engrossed were they by each other, that they were quite unaware they were watched by the jealous Gertrude.

  In obedience to the earl’s injunctions, Standish did not prepare to start on his perilous journey till it became dark.

  He had already chosen five attendants, but it was not till the last moment that the sixth made his appearance.

  The youth had a slight figure, and scarcely looked equal to the journey, but was well mounted.

  Standish had taken leave of the earl and countess, so that no delay occurred. The gate was thrown open, the drawbridge lowered, and Standish rode forth with his attendants, and took his way along a lane leading to Skelmersdale.

  Thence they galloped across Holland Moor to Pemberton, which was nothing more than a small collection of cottages and an old hall.

  From this place a narrow lane brought them to a high road, when Standish came to a halt, and said in a low tone to the youthful attendant we have mentioned:

  “This is your road to Wigan. It is not much more than a mile off. Adieu!”

  Without waiting for a reply he dashed off on the right, followed by his other attendants.

  CHAPTER IV

  How Gertrude found her Father at Wigan

  THE youth remained stationary for a moment, and then rousing himself, took the course indicated by his leader.

  Very shortly he came in sight of a large town, which, even in the gloom, he could see was surrounded by partly-demolished fortifications.

  Presently he was challenged by an advanced guard stationed in front of the gate.

  “Who are you?” demanded a hoarse voice.

  “A friend,” was the reply.

  “Are you alone?” demanded the guard.

  “Yes — alone.”

  Two musketeers then stepped forward to reconnoitre the stranger, and the foremost inquired:

  “What is your business here at this hour?”

  “I desire to see Colonel Rosworm,” replied the youth. “I pray you take me to him.”

  “It is too late,” replied the musketeer, gruffly. “You cannot enter the town. Go your way. Return to-morrow morning if you list.”

  “It is important that I should see Colonel Rosworm to-night. Will you take a message from me to him?”

  “No,” was the stern answer. “He has retired to rest, and I will not disturb him.”

  “He is yonder. I hear his voice.”

  And the youth called out a few words in German which evidently reached Rosworm’s quick ears, for he hastened to the spot.

  The musketeers could not understand what passed between Rosworm and the stranger, for their discourse was conducted in a language unknown to them; but they were surprised when the great German engineer took the new comer’s horse by the bridle, and led him through the gate into the town, saying to the guard, “It is all right.”

  In this manner they proceeded along the main street till they came to a large house, at the entrance of which sentinels were placed. Here they stopped.

  The youth dismounted, and giving his horse to one of the sentinels, followed his conductor into the house.

  Several Roundhead soldiers made their appearance in the passage, but retired on a word from Rosworm, who ushered the stranger into a large room, dimly lighted by a lamp, where they were quite alone.

  No sooner was the door closed, than the engineer affectionately embraced his daughter.

  “I ought to chide thee severely for thy conduct,” he said, in a voice in which anger struggled with tenderness; “but I cannot do it. I thought thou hadst left me for ever.”

  “Not so, dear father,” she rejoined. “I am always ready to return to you, but I cannot endure these rebels.”

  “Then why come here, where thou art in the midst of them?” he asked.

  “Because I have something important to say to you,” she rejoined. “Are you content with the mischief you have done to this town?”

  “What mean’st thou?” he said. “I shall not be content till I have fulfilled my engagement. I have undertaken to deliver all the towns in Lancashire to the Parliament.”

  “I feared as much, dear father,” she rejoined. “But I hope to dissuade you from your cruel purpose.”

  “Thou wilt fail,” he said.

  “I trust not. You will listen to what I have to say?”

  “Humph!” he exclaimed. “It is mere waste of time. I will promise not to assist in any attack on Lathom House — but Warrington is different.”

  “I hope you will not be able to take the place,” she cried.

  “Indulge no such notion,” he rejoined. “Wigan was more strongly fortified than any other town in Lancashire, and you see how soon it fell. We shall make short work with Warrington.”

  “I hope you may be unsuccessful, father,” she said. “And if I am permitted I will fight against you.”

  “You will not have the opportunity of doing so, child,” he rejoined. “You will remain here for the present.”

  “May I not return to Lathom House?”

  “Not till after the capture of Warrington,” he rejoined, in a decided tone. “You should have thought of this before you came hither.”

  “Oh, father!” she exclaimed, “I judged you very differently.”

  “I detain you against my will,” he said. “But you compel me to act thus by your indiscretion. Were I to let you go, my motives would be misconstrued.”

  “If this is your fixed determination, father, I shall try to escape,” she cried.

  “Act as you think proper,” he rejoined. “I will not suffer thee to depart.”

  “Father,” she implored, “I pray you let me go! Do not drive me to some desperate act.”

  Rosworm could not resist her entreaties.

  “I ought not to yield,” he said. “But thou hast placed me in a disagreeable dilemma, and perhaps this is the best way out of it. Come, then, I will go with thee to the gate.”

  Without another word he left the room, and she followed him.

  The horse was instantly brought by the guard, and when Gertrude had gained the saddle, Rosworm walked by her side to the gate.

  Thus escorted, no question was asked, and no hindrance offered to her departure.

  CHAPTER V

  How Gertrude warned the Earl that Warrington was in danger

  Gertrude had failed in her errand. She had found her father impracticable, but she had ascertained that Warrington was to be attacked on the morrow, and resolved to warn the Earl of Derby that the town was in danger. She hastened back as fast as she could to Lathom, and met with no hindrance on the way.

  On arriving at the castle,
some explanation was necessary to the guard, but they were quickly satisfied, and admittance was given her.

  Her first business was to obtain an audience of the earl. Fortunately, he had not retired to rest, but was engaged in converse with the countess and Doctor Rutter in a small chamber adjoining the great hall.

  She had no difficulty in obtaining admittance to him, but some explanation was necessary to account for her appearance in male attire. She concealed nothing from the earl, and told him she had been to Wigan, and detailed all that had passed between her and her father, adding, in conclusion:

  “I am certain Warrington will be attacked tomorrow morning, my lord.”

  “In that case, I must go there to-night,” said the earl. “But I shall only take the two regiments I brought with me to-day. The men must get ready instantly. I shall not disturb the garrison here. You have rendered me good service,” he added to Gertrude, “and I thank you.”

  “I am sorry I could not serve you better, my lord,” she replied. “But I should like to go with you to Warrington — if I may be permitted.”

  “I admire your spirit,” he replied. “But I must refuse your request.”

  He then went forth to give orders for the immediate departure of the troops.

  Shortly afterwards, the trumpet was sounded in the court-yard, and in reply to the summons the men came forth fully equipped.

  Torches were lighted, so that the assemblage could be fully seen. Some of the officers of the garrison at Lathom were anxious to attend his lordship, but were not allowed.

  Meanwhile, the earl had taken leave of the countess. Though sorely grieved to part with him, she concealed her distress, and strove to cheer him.

  “Grieved as I am to part with you, my dear lord,” she said, “I would not have you stay, but would rather urge your departure. Whatever may chance at Warrington, have no fear of this castle. Be sure I will keep it for you.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” he rejoined. “I shall make the best defence I can, but should Warrington fall into the hands of the rebels, and should no assistance be sent by the king, I shall retire to the Isle of Man. Thither you can follow with our children. And now farewell, dear heart, I will not say for ever!”