"Hillo, Roger! glad to find you at last. I have been hunting up and
down along the cliffs for the last hour or more, till I began to fear
that you must have been carried off by a Barbary corsair, or spirited
away on the end of Mother Shipton's broomstick."
The speaker was a fine-looking lad of sixteen, dressed in the costume
worn by Puritans in the time of the second Charles--a long cloth coat of
unobtrusive hue, knee-breeches, high-heeled shoes with large buckles, a
thick neckcloth tied in a bow, and a high-crowned, broad-brimmed hat;
but the brim of the lad's hat was looped up on one side by a rosette of
silver lace, his shoe-buckles were of massive silver, his neckcloth was
of silk, and his coat of fine cloth, betokening that he was of the rank
of a gentleman, and that, if a Puritan, he had taken no small pains to
set his person off to the best advantage.
"Faith! I had no idea that I had been so long hidden away in my cosy
nook, and if you had not ferreted me out, Stephen, I should likely
enough have lain _perdu_ for another hour or more," answered Roger, a
sturdy blue-eyed boy, apparently a year or two younger than Stephen
Battiscombe, and of the same station in life; but his dress, though of
gayer colours and less precise cut than that of his friend, was somewhat
threadbare, and put on as if he had not troubled himself much about the
matter. "See, I have been studying the art of navigation, and begin to
hope that I shall be able to sail a ship through distant seas as well as
Drake or Cavendish, or Sir Martin Frobisher, or Sir Richard Grenville,
or the great Christopher Columbus himself,--ay, and maybe to imitate
their gallant deeds," he continued, holding up a small well-thumbed
volume. "I have not made as much progress this morning as I expected to
do, for I have ever and anon been watching yonder fine ship, which has
long been in sight, striving to beat down Channel against this light
westerly breeze, but for some time past she has made no progress, or
rather has been drifting back to the eastward."
"It seems to me that she is standing in this way," observed Stephen,
shading his eyes with his hand from the noonday sun. "Certes, she is a
goodly craft, and light as is the wind slips swiftly through the water."
"Would that I were on board of her!" exclaimed Roger. "She is doubtless
bound out to some of those strange lands of which I have read in Master
Purchas _Pilgrims_, and many another book of voyages. How I long to
visit those regions, and to behold with mine own eyes the wonderful
sights they present!"
"Many, you should understand, are mere travellers' tales--lying fables--
such as Sir John de Mandeville would make us believe about monsters,
half man and half beast, and people walking about with their heads under
their arms, and cities of marble, the windows of precious stones, and
the streets paved with gold, and such like extravagances," observed
Stephen. "I much doubt also whether your father will readily accede to
your wishes. Think how he would grieve should any of the many mishaps
befall you which so often overtake those who voyage on the treacherous
ocean."
"My father knows that I must seek my fortune in some calling or other,
and he would be well pleased were I to come back with a goodly store of
the gold of Golconda to restore the impoverished fortunes of our house,"
answered Roger, still looking eagerly towards the approaching ship.
"Day-dreams, my friend, day-dreams,--natural enough, but very unlikely
to come true," said Stephen in a somewhat sententious tone, such as he
considered became one of his mature years. If the truth were to have
been known, however, Master Stephen Battiscombe was apt to indulge in
day-dreams himself, though of a different character--a judge's wig and
robes, or even a seat on the Woolsack, were not beyond his aspirations.
He now added, "But we must stop talking here longer. See, the sun is
already at his height in the heavens; an we delay the Colonel and Madam
Pauline will be justly chiding us for being late to dinner."
"I am ready," answered Roger, still, however, lingering and watching the
ship in the offing. "But tell me, what cause brought you to Eversden
this morning?"
"I came over to ask you to return with me to Langton, that you might
join us in making war on the young rooks, which have increased too
greatly in our woods of late. Not finding you, I would fain, I own,
have remained in the house to enjoy the society of sweet Mistress Alice,
but Madame Pauline, cruelly insisting that she required her aid in the
manufacture of some conserves, sent me out to search for you."
"I am bound to be grateful to you for coming, whether willingly or not,
to look for me, or I might have remained in my nest mayhap till the sun
had sunk behind Beer Head out yonder," said Roger, beginning to climb up
the cliff. "I would gladly, however, remain till the ship comes near
enough to let us get a better sight of her."
To this, however, Stephen would not consent, for the reason he had
already given, and Roger also well knew that his uncle, Colonel
Tregellen, would be displeased should they not appear at the regular
dinner-hour.
Roger Willoughby's cosy nook, as he called it, was a small hollow in the
cliff a few feet from the summit, surrounded by a thick growth of purple
bramble, scented clematis, pink thorn, and other shrubs, which formed a
complete shelter from all but southerly winds, and likewise concealed it
from any one passing along the downs above. It was on a part of the
Dorsetshire coast between Lyme and Bridport, almost in the centre of the
extensive bay which has Portland Bill on its eastern side and the Start
Point on the west. To the right could be seen Lowesdon Hill and
Pillesdon Pen rising above the surrounding country, while to the left a
line of precipitous cliffs extended in a bold sweep for several miles to
the conical height of the Gilten Cap, visible to the mariner far away
out at sea, while inland, beyond a range of smooth undulating downs,
were fields of grass and corn, orchards and woods, amid which appeared
here and there a church steeple, the roof of a farm-house or labourer's
cottage, or the tower or gable-end of some more pretentious residence.
Still, Roger accompanied Stephen Battiscombe with evident reluctance,
and turned more than once to take another look at the approaching ship
which had so attracted his attention.
"She must be purposing to come to an anchor close to the shore, and we
may be able to go on board her," he exclaimed.
"Very possibly her captain intends to bring up to wait till the tide
turns," said Stephen in a tone of indifference. "If you have a fancy
for visiting her, the sooner we get back to Eversden the more time you
will have to accomplish your object, should your father not object to
your going; but as we do not know the character of the vessel, he may
doubt whether the trip is a safe one--she may be a pirate, or a trader
in want of hands, and may kidnap you and your boatmen to fill up the
complement of her crew."
Roger laughed heartily as Stephen ceased speaking. "We need not fear
any danger of that sort," he said. "My father is not so over-careful of
me as you suppose. Neither he nor the Colonel will say me nay, and if
you are unwilling to accompany me, I will go alone."
"No! no!--if you go I will go with you," answered Stephen. "I merely
wished to warn you, that you might not be disappointed."
"I know well that I can always trust you, and that you are ever ready to
please me when you can," said Roger. "But, as you say, it were a pity
to lose time--so we will hasten on to the manor-house, and as soon as we
have satisfied our hunger, we will return to the shore and get Ben
Rullock and his boy Toby to put us aboard the stranger. See, she is
still standing in for the land, and she would certainly not come so
close except for the purpose of anchoring."
The boys had now reached the highest part of the downs. After this,
having to descend to the cultivated ground, they lost sight of the ship.
Making a short cut across some fields enclosed by stone walls, they
reached a lane with hedges on either side, along which they proceeded
for a mile or more, as snake-like it twisted and turned in various
directions, till, crossing what from its width looked like a high-road,
though as full of ruts and holes as the lane, they passed through a
gateway, the entrance to an avenue of fine beech-trees. The once stout
gate shook and creaked on its rusty hinges as they pushed it open; the
keeper's lodge was in ruins, burnt down many years ago, for the marks of
fire were still visible on the portions of the walls seen between the
ivy and other creepers partially covering them. The lads, hurrying up
the avenue, soon reached a substantial house of some size, surrounded by
a broad moat with a roughly constructed wooden bridge, where once a
drawbridge had existed across the narrowest part, directly in front of
the chief entrance. The most prominent feature of the building was a
porch of stone, handsomely carved; on the right side of it was a breadth
of wall with several windows, and at the end what appeared from its
architecture to be a chapel, though the large window at the gable-end
had been bricked up, a few loopholes only being left in it. On the
other side of the porch was a still more extensive range of windows,
giving light to a large hall, and beyond that again was a square stone
tower, serving in the eyes of the architect as a balance to the chapel.
The moat was a sufficient distance from the house to allow of a roadway
round it to the back, where, guarded by a high wall, the offices and
stables, the cow-house, the piggeries and poultry-yard, were situated.
The boys hurried through the open doorway, the savoury odours proceeding
from the hall on the left exciting their appetites. The family were
already seated at table, and Master Holden, the parson of the parish,
was in the act of saying grace. As soon as he had concluded, they took
the places left vacant for them, Stephen managing to place himself next
to Mistress Alice Tufnell, while Roger, who cared not where he sat, went
to one on the opposite side of the table between his father and the
parson, who had at first humbly taken a lower position. At the head of
the table sat Colonel Tregellen, the owner of Eversden Manor, with his
sprightly French wife, Madam Pauline, on his right, and his
brother-in-law, Master Ralph Willoughby, Roger's father, on his left.
"You are late, lads," said the Colonel, looking first at one, then at
the other, in a somewhat stern manner. "You know the rules of the
house--how comes it?"
"Please, sir, I was looking for Roger, and only lately discovered him,"
answered Stephen, who was the elder, and thought it incumbent on him to
speak first. "He was not aware how the hours had gone by."
"And why were you not aware how time passed, Master Roger?" asked the
Colonel, turning to his nephew. "The sun is shining in the heavens, and
you should have known when noon arrived."
"I was sitting in the shade and reading, good uncle," answered Roger in
a brisk tone, which showed that he had little fear of the Colonel's
displeasure; "besides, to say the truth, I was watching a fine ship
standing in for the coast, which ship I have a notion has come to anchor
not far from this, and as soon as Stephen and I have stowed away some
food, with yours and my father's leave and good pleasure we propose
going on board her to learn what cargo she carries, whither she is
bound, and all about her."
"You are of an inquisitive disposition regarding all things nautical,
Roger," observed the Colonel. "I have no objection, if your father has
not, but take care you are not carried off to sea. We must make Stephen
Battiscombe answerable for that; and if the vessel has a suspicious
look, remember that you are not to venture on board."
"Ah, yes; do take care that the strange ship you speak of is not a
pirate. It would be dreadful to have you spirited away, as I have heard
has sometimes happened," observed Madam Pauline.
"There is not much risk of that," observed Mr Willoughby. "Since the
noble Blake commanded the fleets of England, such gentry have not dared
to venture into the English Channel."
"And are you also going, Master Battiscombe?" asked Alice, turning to
Stephen.
"I have no great fancy for the expedition, and would rather spend my
time here, Mistress Alice," he answered. "But Roger begs for my
companionship, and I must go to look after him, for I suspect that he
would not be greatly grieved if he were to be carried off, as his heart
is set on visiting foreign lands, and he knows not how to accomplish his
wishes."
"If you go I know you will advise him wisely," said Alice, in a tone
which showed that she placed confidence in the person she was
addressing.
Stephen looked gratified. "I will not betray my trust," he said, "and I
hope, Mistress Alice, that I shall act in a way to merit your approval."
The lads did not allow their plates to remain idly before them. Roger
sent his for an additional supply of the goodly sirloin which the
Colonel was carving, and then, as soon as he had finished eating,
without waiting for the pasties or Master Holden's grace, he started up
and said: "We have your leave, uncle, my father not objecting, to visit
the stranger, and I doubt not we shall bring you before evening a good
account of her."
Mr Willoughby nodded his assent. "You may go, Roger, and Stephen is
his own master, but remember the caution you have received. Should you
find, which is most probable, that the commander is a goodly person, and
his ship is going to remain long enough at anchor, you may invite him up
to the manor-house, and say we shall gladly receive him. It may be that
he has been long at sea, and some fresh provisions will be welcome."
"Thank you," said Roger, leaving his chair.--"Come along, Stephen; we
shall find Ben Rullock and Toby at their hut before they leave for their
evening fishing, if we make haste."
Stephen, with less eagerness than that exhibited by his friend, rose
from his seat, and bowing to Madam Pauline and Mistress Alice, followed
Roger out of the hall.
"They are spirited lads," observed the Colonel, "and as they have little
enough to fill up their time, I like not to deny them such amusement as
they discover for themselves."
"Where it is harmless 'tis right that it should be encouraged," remarked
Master Holden, who seldom said anything except it was to agree with the
Colonel, his patron, by whose means he had been reinstated in the parish
at the Restoration.
Colonel Tregellen, a staunch Cavalier, the owner of Eversden, had during
the Civil War been among the most active partisans of King Charles the
First, in whose service he had expended large sums of money. On the
triumph of Cromwell his property was confiscated, and he had judged it
prudent to escape beyond seas. The manor, however, had been purchased
by his brother-in-law, Roger Willoughby, who had married his sister, and
who had held it during the period of the Commonwealth. Mr Willoughby
was a rigid Puritan, and had been as active in supporting Cromwell as
his brother-in-law had been in the cause of the opposite party. At the
Restoration the tables were again turned, and Colonel Tregellen, who had
some time before ventured back to England, had, by an amicable
arrangement with his brother-in-law, again become possessed of the
estate, it being settled that Mr Willoughby and his son should reside
with him.
While abroad, Colonel Tregellen had married a French Protestant lady, a
very charming and lively person, who made herself liked by all who came
in contact with her. Having no children of their own, they had adopted
the grand-daughter of a Cavalier friend killed at Naseby, who had
committed his only daughter to the Colonel's care. On his return to
England she came to live at Eversden Manor, where she married Mr Harry
Tufnell, the younger son of a gentleman of property in the county. He,
however, soon afterwards died, leaving his widow and infant daughter
slenderly provided for. Two years elapsed from his death, when Mrs
Tufnell, who was then staying at the manor-house, followed him to the
grave. Madam Pauline had promised to be a mother to her child, and such
she had ever since truly proved. Alice, who was too young to feel her
loss, had always looked upon the Colonel and his wife as her parents,
and loved them as such, though the Colonel had considered it expedient
that she should retain her father's name, and keep up such intercourse
with her family as circumstances would permit. She amply rewarded the
Colonel and Madam Pauline for the care they bestowed on her by the
amiability of her disposition, her sweet and engaging manners, and the
affection she exhibited towards them. She was a year or two younger
than Roger, but from her intelligence and appearance, and a certain
manner she had caught from Madam Pauline, she was generally supposed to
be older. She and Roger were fast friends, and regarded each other as
brother and sister. Of late she not only looked but felt herself the
elder of the two, and treated him as young ladies are sometimes inclined
to treat boys, in a slightly dictatorial way, ordering him about, and
expecting him to obey her slightest behest; as he was invariably
obedient they never quarrelled, and she always appeared to receive his
service as her right.
Mr Willoughby, who lost his wife some years after the Restoration, and
was in infirm health, had sunk almost heart-broken into the position of
a dependant on his brother-in-law. He had paid a heavy price to obtain
Eversden, and had also expended large sums in support of the cause he
advocated, besides which, certain mercantile speculations into which he
had entered had been unsuccessful, so that when deprived of Eversden he
had no means remaining for his support. The hope, which he probably
entertained, that his son Roger would be Colonel Tregellen's heir, was
somewhat damped when Mistress Alice was adopted as his daughter--not
that he felt any jealousy of her in consequence,--indeed, he might
possibly have entertained the idea that she would marry Roger, and that,
should she become the Colonel's heiress, the property would thus be
restored to the family. Had the subject, however, been spoken of to
him, he would very likely have replied that he did not wish his thoughts
to dwell on such sublunary matters, that, all being ordered for the
best, he would leave them in the hands of Providence, without attempting
to interfere. Still, as Alice grew up into a sweet and engaging girl,
he could not help wishing, as he looked at her, that she would some day
become his son's wife. It is certain, however, that such thought had
never for a moment crossed Roger's mind, nor that of the young lady
either. She would have laughed heartily if the subject had been
mentioned to her, and declared that she should as soon have thought of
marrying old Mr Willoughby himself, whom she always called her uncle.
Fortunately no one had ever been silly enough to talk to her about the
matter, and she and Roger had never had what might prove a barrier to
their friendship placed between them.
Roger's thoughts were generally occupied with his grand idea to go
abroad to the Indies, or to America, or to the plantations, to make a
fortune, and to restore the family to its former position. He did not
consider that his father was dependent on the Colonel, but he saw that
the latter himself had but limited means; for the estate, although of
considerable extent, yielded but a poor income. Its owner had nothing
else to depend on, so that he was unable to repair the house or to make
improvements on the land. The King on his Restoration had promised to
give him a lucrative post as soon as he could find one suited to his
talents, but year after year passed by, and he received no appointment;
at length he went up to London--a journey not easily performed in those
days,--and after waiting for a considerable time, through the interest
of an old friend he obtained an interview with the Merry Monarch.
"Gadzooks, man!" exclaimed the King, when he saw him, "I remember you
well,--a loyal, sturdy supporter of our cause. We have had so many
loyal gentlemen applying for posts that we fear all have been filled up,
but depend on it we will not forget you. Go back to Eversden, and wait
with such patience as may be vouchsafed you. In due course of time you
will receive notice of the appointment to which we shall have the
satisfaction of naming you."
Colonel Tregellen took his leave and returned to Eversden, but he was
too old a soldier to have his hopes raised high, and from that time to
the present he had received no further communication on the subject--
indeed, he had reason to believe that the King had forgotten all about
him. Though he did not in consequence of this waver in his loyalty, it
did not increase his affection for the King, and made him criticise the
monarch's proceeding with more minuteness than might otherwise have been
the case. He had ever been a firm Protestant, and he had become still
more attached to the Reformed principles, and more enlightened, from the
example set him by his wife, and also from the instruction he received
from her. He was sufficiently acquainted with political affairs to know
that the King was more than suspected of leaning to Romanism, while the
Duke of York--the heir to the throne--was a professed Romanist. His
love, therefore, for the family for whom he had fought and expended his
fortune had greatly waned of late years, and he therefore agreed more
nearly with the opinions of his brother-in-law than formerly. This
change of sentiment permitted him willingly to receive young
Battiscombe, who was of a Puritan family, at his house, though at one
time he would not have admitted him within his doors. He also lived on
friendly terms with other neighbours holding the same opinion as the
owner of Langton Hall. Still, the Colonel did not altogether abandon
his Cavalier habits and notions, which, without intending it perhaps, he
instilled into the mind of his young nephew, who, although his father
had been a supporter of Cromwell, was ready enough to acknowledge
Charles as the rightful king of England. He and Stephen often had
discussions on the subject, but as neither held his opinions with much
obstinacy, they never fell out on the matter, and generally ended with a
laugh, each asserting that he had the beat of the argument. Stephen, if
not a bigoted Puritan, was a strong Protestant, and never failed to
express his dread of the consequences should James come to the throne.
Stephen Battiscombe was the second son of Mr Battiscombe of Langton
Park, who had several other sons and daughters. He had been an officer
in General Monk's army, and had consequently retained his paternal
estates, although he had been compelled to part with some of his broad
acres in order to secure the remainder. Stephen had been for the last
year or two a constant visitor at Eversden, he and Roger having formed a
friendship; it may be that he came oftener than he otherwise might have
done for the sake of enjoying the society of Mistress Alice, whom he
greatly admired.
The early dinner being concluded, and the viands removed, the ladies
retired to pursue their usual avocations, while the Colonel, with Mr
Willoughby and Master Holden, sat still at the table, not so much to
indulge in potations, though a flagon of wine and glasses stood before
them, as to discuss certain parochial questions in which they were
interested.
The first matter to be discussed had scarcely been broached when the
Colonel, whose quick ears had detected the sound of horses' hoofs in the
court-yard, exclaimed, "Hark! here come visitors. I pray you, Master
Holden, go and see who they are, and, should they have travelled far,
and require food, bid the cook make ready a sufficiency; whether they be
old friends or strangers, we must not show a want of hospitality if they
come expecting to find it at Eversden." The curate, ever accustomed to
obey his patron's directions, rose and hastened to the door. Not long
after he had gone, Tobias Platt, the Colonel's serving-man, who
performed the duties of butler, valet, and general factotum, entered the
hall.
"Master Thomas Handscombe, cloth-merchant of London, who has just come
down from thence, craves to see Mr Roger Willoughby," he said.
"Do you know him?" asked the Colonel of his brother-in-law.
"Yes, an old and worthy friend," answered Mr Willoughby, rising from
his seat.
"Let him be admitted, and assure him of a welcome," said the Colonel,
turning to Tobias Platt, who hurried out of the hall, while Mr
Willoughby followed him somewhat more leisurely. He found his old
friend, a middle-aged man of grave exterior, in travel-stained cloak,
broad-brimmed beaver, just dismounting from a strongly-built nag, to
whose saddle were attached a pair of huge holsters in front, and a
valise behind. He was accompanied by two attendants, each of whose
animals carried considerably heavier burdens, apparently merchandise,
more or less of cloth and other articles, firmly secured by leathern
straps.
"I am glad to see you again, Master Handscombe," exclaimed Mr
Willoughby, warmly pressing the hand of his old friend; "although I am
no longer master of this mansion, I can bid you welcome, for my good
brother-in-law, Colonel Tregellen, desires that all my friends should be
his friends; but you will remember that he is an old Cavalier, and that
there are certain subjects it were better not to touch on."
"I mix too much with all classes of men not to be on my guard," answered
the merchant, as he accompanied Mr Willoughby into the house, when
Tobias Platt came forward to take his dusty cloak and beaver, and then
followed Mr Willoughby into the hall, where the Colonel received him as
his brother-in-law's friend.
"You will be glad to shake off more of the dust of your journey while a
repast is preparing," observed the Colonel. "The servant will provide
you with water and other necessaries."
The guest gladly accepted the offer. Mr Willoughby himself accompanied
him to the room, that they might have an opportunity of conversing in
private, which they might not afterwards obtain. Madam Pauline and
Alice, on hearing from Master Holden of the arrival of a stranger from
London, returned to the hall, where all the party were soon again
assembled. Master Handscombe, though a man of grave deportment, had no
objection to hear himself speak.
"When did you leave London?" was one of the first questions very
naturally put by the Colonel to his guest.
"Just seven days ago, good sir," answered Mr Handscombe. "Having sent
all my goods with my two servant-men by the stage-wagon, I took my place
by the light coach which now runs from London to the West. There were
six of us inside, who, till the moment we met, were not aware of each
other's existence, though, before we parted, we had become as intimate
as a litter of puppies. Pretty close stowing it was too--yet,
considering the jolting, bumping, and rolling, that was an advantage.
Oftentimes I feared that the coach would go over altogether into the
ditch, when I was thankful that there was not any one outside except the
coachman and guard, who are in a manner born to it, to break their
necks. Still, notwithstanding all impediments, we accomplished thirty
miles a day; that is fast going, you will allow, compared to the
stage-wagon or other ancient means of conveyance. Once only we were
stopped by highwaymen, but the guard's blunderbuss disposed of one of
them, and an old officer, who was fortunately for us one of the
passengers, though his legs were of the longest, shot another, and the
rest, fearing that the Major's pistols would settle a third of their
gang, rode off, leaving us to proceed unmolested. Mine host of the
`Green Dragon,' where we had stopped, seemed greatly surprised at seeing
us arrive safely, and pulled a long face at hearing of the highwayman
whom the Major had shot, for he owed a long score, he acknowledged,
which he had now no chance of getting paid. At Salisbury I found my nag
and servants, and, leaving the coach, proceeded on to this place by such
roads as I could discover. It was one comfort to believe that we were
not likely to encounter highwaymen by paths so little frequented, though
we had several streams to cross, where we ran no small risk of our
lives, especially near Salisbury, where the waters were out, and for
some hours no boat was to be found to ferry us across. However, at
length, by God's kind providence, we got over, and as you see, good
masters, I have arrived sound in health and limb."
"Truly you have reason to be thankful," observed Mr Willoughby; "for it
is a long time since I made a journey to London, and, of my own free
will, I will never again undertake it."
"And what news do you bring from the city?" asked the Colonel. "How go
matters at Court?"
"About the Court I know but little, except such as appears in the
broad-sheet and scraps of information which reach the city. The Dukes
of York and Monmouth are still at daggers drawn, the King now favouring
one, now the other, though Monmouth by his affable and condescending
manners wins the hearts of many of the people, while the Earl of
Shaftesbury is ever plotting and contriving how he may keep the power in
his own hands, and play one against the other. The Duke of Monmouth,
who was, as you may have heard, banished, has returned without the
King's permission, and, as he refuses again to quit the kingdom, has
been stripped of his various offices; but a short time ago appeared a
tract in which the Duke is clearly pointed out as the fittest person,
from his courage, quality, and conduct, to become the ruler of these
realms. It is remarked that he who has the worst title will make the
best King. There is a story current of the existence of a black box in
which is deposited the marriage-contract between the King and the Duke's
mother, but some doubt, not without reason, whether such a black box
exists, much more the contents spoken of. Be that as it may, many
persons speak boldly of the Duke of Monmouth some day becoming King of
England."
"What is your opinion, Master Handscombe?" asked the Colonel.
"I have merely reported what is said," answered the merchant. "My
business is in buying and selling, and I have no wish to enter into
political affairs."
"Well answered, sir; but I would have it clearly understood that I hope
none of those in whom I have an interest will ever draw sword or aid by
tongue or otherwise in supporting any but the rightful and legitimate
Sovereign of these realms. Though James has become a Papist, he will
not interfere with the rights and privileges of his Protestant
subjects."
"On that point there exist adverse and strong opinions," answered Master
Handscombe. "A Roman in power and a Roman out of power are two very
different species of animals. The one rules it like the lordly lion,
and strikes down with his powerful paw all opponents; the other creeps
forward gently and noiselessly like the cat,--not the less resolved,
however, to destroy his prey."
"You would then rather see the Duke of Monmouth than the Duke of York
king of England?" said the Colonel.
"No, good sir, I said not so," answered Mr Handscombe. "I am merely
repeating at your desire what people do say in the city, and in the
towns also through which I passed."
While they were speaking, Tobias Platt had placed a smoking hot dish
before the hungry traveller, on which the Colonel bade him fall-to.
Scarcely, however, had he commenced operations, when young Roger hurried
into the hall.
"We have brought him, uncle; he was very willing to come, and you will
like him as much as we do. I ran on to announce him, and he and Stephen
will be here anon."
"But who is your friend?" asked the Colonel. "You have not told us."
"He is the captain of the fine ship we saw entering the bay; his name is
Benbow, and his ship is the _Benbow_ frigate. He received us in a
courteous manner when we went on board, and told him that we had come to
invite him on shore. He said as there was no prospect of a breeze for
some hours, he would gladly accept your invitation.--Here he comes."
A youngish, broadly-built man, with light blue eyes and somewhat
sun-burnt complexion, dressed as a sea-going officer of those days,
entered the hall accompanied by Stephen Battiscombe, and advanced, hat
in hand, towards the Colonel, who rose to receive him.
"You have come just in time, Captain Benbow, for such I hear is your
name, to partake of a dinner prepared for a friend from London; you are
heartily welcome."
"Thanks, good sir, but I dined before I came on shore, though I shall be
happy to quaff a glass of wine to your health and that of your guests,"
he answered, as he seated himself in a chair, which the Colonel offered,
by his side.
"We have not many visitors in this quiet place, and are always glad to
receive those who have sailed, as you have undoubtedly, to many foreign
lands," observed the Colonel, as he poured out a glass of sparkling wine
for the new-comer, who, before putting it to his lips, bowed to the
ladies and then to the Colonel and the other gentlemen.
"Methinks I should know you, Captain Benbow," said Mr Handscombe,
looking up at him from the other side of the table. "We have met on
'Change, and I may venture to say it in your presence that no
sea-captain stands higher than you do in the estimation of the merchants
of London."
"Much obliged to you, Master Handscombe, for the opinion you express of
me," said Captain Benbow, at once recognising the worthy merchant. "I
have always wished to do my duty towards those whose goods I carry, and
to defend my cargo against pirates, privateers, and corsairs of all
descriptions, as well as to carry it safely to its destination."
"The name of Benbow sounds familiar to my ears," said the Colonel,
looking earnestly at the merchant captain. "I had two old well-loved
comrades, Colonel Thomas and Colonel John Benbow, gentlemen of estate in
Shropshire, who raised regiments in the service of his late Majesty, of
pious memory, and for whom I also had the honour of drawing my sword. I
well remember that 20th of September in the year of grace 1642, when
they and many more came with their faithful men to Shrewsbury to enrol
themselves under the King's standard, and opposed those who had resolved
on his destruction. From that day forward we fought side by side in
many a bloody battle, sometimes in the open field, sometimes in the
defence of towns or fortified manor-houses, till the King's cause was
lost and his sacred head struck off, though even then we did not despair
that the cause of monarchy would triumph; and as soon as our present
King, marching from Scotland, reached Worcester, I, with the two Colonel
Benbows, who had mustered their Shropshire men, and a few other noble
gentlemen--alack! not so many as we had a right to expect--arrayed
ourselves under the King's standard. We had secured, as we hoped, a
strong position, and expected that when Cromwell and his Ironsides
marched against us we should drive them back and hold our own, with
Wales and other loyal counties in our rear, till the nation was aroused.
But such was not to be, for without waiting to give himself
breathing-time after his march, Cromwell set upon us. Though many
fought bravely, others grew faint-hearted, and took to flight, and the
day was lost. I fell wounded, and was conveyed to the house of a
faithful friend, who concealed me; but unhappily the Colonel Benbows
were both made prisoners, and Colonel Thomas Benbow with the Earl of
Derby and several other gallant noblemen. To my grief, I heard soon
afterwards that Colonel Thomas Benbow was shot with the Earl and several
others, for engaging in what the usurper pleased to call rebellion; but
of my friend Colonel John Benbow I could for a long time hear nothing,
and had myself to escape across seas."
"I am the son of Colonel John Benbow, of whom you speak," said the
Captain. "I know that my uncle Thomas was made prisoner in the fight at
Worcester, and afterwards cruelly shot. My father escaped with the help
of a friend, and remained concealed with my mother and their family,
living in the humblest way, till King Charles the Second was restored to
the throne. Through the influence of some friends my father obtained a
small office connected with the Ordnance in the Tower, which brought him
in sufficient to feed and clothe his family in a simple fashion. I was
young, and used to what might be called penury, and I well knew that I
must seek my fortune in the world, and work hard. I had an early taste
for the sea, for we lived near the Thames, and I often used to make
trips with the watermen, among whom I was a favourite. When I was old
enough to make myself useful they paid me for the assistance I gave
them, looking after boats, sometimes bringing them a fare from the
shore, and often taking an oar. I was just ten years old when the
present King came to the throne, and I might perchance have joined one
of his ships, but from the way I heard my friends the watermen say that
men were treated on board them, I had no fancy for joining a man-of-war.
Soon after the time I speak of, an old friend of my father's got him an
appointment in the Tower, which brought him in indeed but 80 pounds a
year; yet as that was more than our family had had to live on for many a
long year, it was a cause of much rejoicing and thanksgiving. Still it
was not enough to allow any of us who could work to live in idleness,
and I determined to try what I could do. I was one day looking out for
a fare for an old waterman, John Cox by name, who had engaged my
services, I being an especial favourite of his, when a sailor-like man
came down and said he wanted to be put on board the _Rainbow_ frigate
lying in the stream. `John Cox will put you on board,' says I; `there's
his boat. I'll hail him, and he will be down in a moment.'
"`That will do,' said the stranger, and he stepped on board the boat.
"`Are you the old man's son?' he asked.
"`No, sir; I am the son of Colonel Benbow, who has got an office in the
Tower.'
"`What! his son thus employed!' exclaimed the stranger. `Is he going to
bring you up as a waterman?'
"`An please you, sir, I am bringing myself up to gain an honest
livelihood as best I can,' I answered.
"`Would you like to go to sea and visit foreign countries?' asked the
stranger.
"`That I would, sir, with all my heart,' I answered.
"`What will you say if I offer to take you?' he asked, looking at me.
"`That I will accept your offer, and serve you faithfully,' I said.
"`Then, lad, you shall come with me aboard the _Rainbow_. We will go
back and see your father. I would not take you without his sanction;
but if he approves, we shall have time to get such an outfit as you
require, for I do not sail till to-morrow.'
"John Cox and I put Captain Downing, for such was his name, on board the
_Rainbow_. He told us to wait alongside for him. After some time he
again stepped into the boat, and ordered John Cox to pull for the Tower
Stairs.
"On landing, he bade me conduct him to my father's lodgings, which I
gladly did. My father, as it happened, had met Captain Downing, and
knew him to be a man of probity. Thanking the Captain for his offer, he
without hesitation gave me leave to accompany him as cabin-boy. It did
not take long to get an outfit, and bidding my old father and my kind
mother and brothers and sisters farewell, I went on board the _Rainbow_.
We dropped down the Thames the next day, but it was nearly a week
before we were fairly at sea. The moment I stepped on board, having
determined to become a sailor, I set to work to learn everything I
could. The Captain helped me in every way. I observed especially the
manner he treated his men. He spoke kindly to them, took care that they
had plenty of good provisions, and never demanded more work of them than
he knew they could perform. Thus the same crew sailed with him voyage
after voyage, and I said to myself, `Whenever I get command of a ship, I
will treat my men in the same way.' We sailed for the Levant, and were
more than a year away, and then made several voyages to Lisbon and
Cadiz, and other places on the coast of Portugal and Spain, two out to
the West Indies. When I got back I found my father holding his old post
in the Tower, still cheerful and contented, though, as he said, he
thought some of his old friends might have found him one with better
pay, considering what he had lost for holding to the Royal cause. The
first Dutch war was just over, when the Governor received notice that
the King himself was going to visit the Tower to inspect the ordnance.
All the officers, from the highest to the lowest, in their best attire,
were drawn up to receive his Majesty. Among them stood my father, his
white hair streaming over his shoulders, a head taller than any of the
bystanders, I well remember the cry which was raised of `Here comes the
King!' Presently his Majesty appeared. As he walked along, nodding to
one, exchanging a word with another, his eye fell on my father, whom he
knew at once, as he did most people, however long a time had passed
since he had seen them. `Gadzooks! why, there's my old friend Colonel
Benbow!' exclaimed the King, going up to him and giving him a warm
embrace. `I have not seen you since we parted at Worcester; if all had
acted as bravely as you did, we should have had a very different account
to give of that day. What do you here?'
"`An please your Majesty, I have a post of 80 pounds a year, in which I
do my duty as cheerfully as I would were it 4000 pounds a year,'
answered my father.
"`Alack, alack! that an old and faithful friend should have been so
neglected,' said the King. `You ought to have had one of the best posts
I have it in my power to confer, for you lost not only your own
property, but your brave brother lost his life, as I have heard, with
many other gallant gentlemen.--Colonel Legge,' he said, turning to one
of the officers in attendance, `bring Colonel Benbow to me to-morrow,
and we will see what office we can best bestow on him. I will provide
for him an his family as becomes me.'
"As the King passed on, my honoured father, overcome with joy and
gratitude for the King's intended goodness, sank down on a bench, where
he sat motionless. Suddenly a pallor was seen to overspread his
countenance, and he would have fallen forward had not some of those
standing by hurried to support him;--but he was past human help; the
sudden revulsion of feeling was more than his weak frame could stand,
and before the King had left the Tower he had breathed his last. It was
a sad day to my mother, but we tried to comfort her by reminding her
that our father died from excessive joy, that the King would graciously
bestow the favour he had intended for him on her and us. From that day
forward, however, no message came from his Majesty to inquire why my
father had not appeared at Court. Though means were also taken to let
the King know of our father's death, and that his wife and family were
almost destitute no notice was taken, and my mother had to depend on
such support as I and her other children could give her; but do all we
could, it was only sufficient to keep her from starving. Well may I
say, `Put not your trust in princes.'
"I need not trouble you, fair ladies and gentlemen, with a further
account of my early life. I was in great favour with Captain Downing,
with whom I sailed for many years as his chief officer, and on his
death, which occurred at sea, he left me his share in the _Rainbow_, and
other property. As she was getting old and unfit for long voyages, I
sold her and built the _Benbow_ frigate, which ship several of my former
crew joined as soon as she was ready for sea. Thus, you see, my life
has not been a very eventful one, though I have risen to independence by
just sticking to my duty. I do not say that I have not met with
adventures, but I will occupy no more of your time by attempting to
describe them."
Roger and Stephen, especially the former, had been eagerly listening to
the account Captain Benbow gave of himself.
"How I should delight to sail with you, if my father would give me
leave!" exclaimed Roger.
"If there were time, I should be happy to take you on board my ship and
teach you to become a sailor, but I fear there is no time, as I must be
away again as soon as the tide changes, for I am bound up to the further
end of the Mediterranean, and you require certain suits of clothing and
other articles which cannot be procured in a moment."
"If you propose putting into Plymouth, the difficulty might be
obviated," said Roger, who looked much disappointed. "I could soon
scrape such few things together as I require, for I care not much what I
wear."
"But you have not yet obtained your father's sanction to your going,
young gentleman, and it was only provided that he should give his
permission that I offered to receive you on board my ship," said the
Captain.
"Thank you heartily, Captain Benbow," said Mr Willoughby. "From the
report I have heard of you through my friend Handscombe here, there is
no man to whom I would more willingly confide my son, for he has set his
heart on being a sailor; but, as you observe, he requires suitable
clothing, and that cannot be procured forthwith; still, if you will give
me intimation of your return to England, and are willing to take him on
your next voyage, I will send him to the port at which your ship lies
without fail."
"I will do that," said the Captain.--"So, Master Roger, you may look
upon yourself as my future shipmate."
Still Roger appeared much disappointed, as he had expected to go off at
once.
"Cheer up, my lad," said the Captain good-humouredly. "I will not fail
to give notice of my arrival to your father." The Captain evidently
took compassion on the boy's eagerness, for he added, "To show my
readiness to take you, if your friends will undertake to collect such
needful articles as you must have, I will agree to wait till a breeze
springs up, which may not be for several hours to come."
"Thank you, sir, thank you," cried Roger, looking at his aunt and
Mistress Alice, and then at his father and the Colonel, as much as to
ask what they would do.
"If your father gives you leave, I will not say you nay," observed the
Colonel. "But I know nothing of the required preparations. Madam
Pauline and Alice had better say what they and the maidens in the house
can do in the course of a few hours."
Roger turned inquiringly towards them.
"As Captain Benbow is good enough to take you, we will do our best to
get the things you require ready," said Madam Pauline.
"I am loath to lose Roger, but if he will accept some of my clothing, I
will ride back to Langton Park and get it for him," said Stephen. "It
is much against the grain, though, I confess."
"Thank you, thank you, Stephen," cried Roger, grasping his friend's
hand. "I know that you are sorry to part from me, but then you know how
much I long to go to sea, and may never have so good an opportunity."
The matter being thus settled, Madam Pauline and Alice hastened to
inspect poor Roger's scanty wardrobe, and to consider how with the
materials in the house they could most speedily add to it, while
Stephen, mounting his horse, rode away for Langton, and Roger himself,
accompanied by Master Holden, hunted through the big lumber-room at the
top of the house, with the hopes of finding a chest in which his
property might be stowed. He soon found one of oak, clamped with iron,
which, though larger and heavier than was desirable, might, he thought,
serve the purpose required. Their next business was to collect the
treasures, including a few well-thumbed books, which Roger wished to
take with him, and which he at once placed in the bottom of the chest.
The rest of the party remained at table, the Colonel talking chiefly
with Captain Benbow, whom he looked upon as an old friend.
"You will remain at the manor-house to-night, I hope," said the Colonel,
"and you may return in the morning with my nephew at as early an hour as
you desire. I suspect that the females of the family will take but few
hours of rest, as their needles will be busy during the night in
preparing the young fellow's wardrobe."
"Thank you for the offer, Colonel, but I have made a rule, from which I
never depart, always to sleep on board my ship," answered the Captain.
"I know not what may happen during the night, and I am thus in readiness
for any emergency."
Mr Willoughby was engaged in earnest conversation with Master
Handscombe, the merchant, on matters which, it appeared, they were
unwilling should reach the ears of the Colonel. They spoke of the Duke
of Monmouth, Lord Shaftesbury, and many other persons. Master
Handscombe appeared to be very anxious to ascertain the political
opinions of the landowners and other gentlemen residing in that part of
Dorsetshire and the neighbouring counties of Wilts and Devon. It might
have been suspected that the cloth-merchant had other objects in view
besides those connected with his mercantile pursuits.
In spite of the exertions made by the indefatigable Madame Pauline and
her assistants during the evening, Roger's wardrobe was not completed;
indeed, darkness was approaching before Stephen Battiscombe returned
with the bundle of clothing which he had generously devoted to the use
of his friend. Captain Benbow had risen from the table, and having
wished the Colonel and the rest of the party good-bye, was prepared to
set out on his return to his ship. Stephen and Roger insisted on
accompanying him, and he was glad of their society, as he confessed that
he might have some difficulty in finding his way alone. His boat was
waiting for him at the beach.
"You will come down with your traps as soon as possible after daylight,
my lad," he said, as he stepped on board, "and I will send a boat on
shore for you."
"No fear, sir, about my being punctual," answered Roger, and his heart
bounded as he thought that in a few hours more he should be on board the
stout ship which rode at anchor out in the bay. He and Stephen stood on
the beach watching the boat till she was lost to sight in the fast
increasing gloom. Already, as they stood there, they observed that
although the calm was as perfect as before, the water had begun to break
with considerably more force than it had done since the morning. Smooth
undulations came rolling in and burst with a dull splash on the sand,
then rushed up in a sheet of snowy foam, which had scarcely disappeared
before another took its place.
"I cannot quite make it out," observed Stephen. "It seems to me that
the sky is unusually dark away to the south and south-west; to say the
truth, it looks to me as if there was a bank of dark clouds out there."
"I do not see any bank. It is simply the coming gloom of evening which
darkens the sky in that direction," answered Roger. "I think you are
mistaken; however, it is time that we should get back, as I have many
things to do, and I don't like to desert my poor father, as it will be
the last evening I shall spend with him for many a day."
Stephen acknowledging this, they hastened back to the manor-house.