"Charlie," Sir Marmaduke said on the following morning, at
breakfast, "it is quite possible that that villain who acted as
spy, and that other villain who employed him--I need not mention
names--may swear an information against me, and I may be arrested,
on the charge of being concerned in a plot. I am not much afraid of
it, if they do. The most they could say is that I was prepared to
take up arms, if his majesty crossed from France; but, as there are
thousands and thousands of men ready to do the same, they may fine
me, perhaps, but I should say that is all. However, what I want to
say to you is, keep out of the way, if they come. I shall make
light of the affair, while you, being pretty hot tempered, might
say things that would irritate them, while they could be of no
assistance to me. Therefore, I would rather that you were kept out
of it, altogether. I shall want you here. In my absence, there must
be somebody to look after things.
"Mind that rascal John Dormay does not put his foot inside the
house, while I am away. That fellow is playing some deep game,
though I don't quite know what it is. I suppose he wants to win the
goodwill of the authorities, by showing his activity and zeal; and,
of course, he will imagine that no one has any idea that he has
been in communication with this spy. We have got a hold over him,
and, when I come back, I will have it out with him. He is not
popular now, and, if it were known that he had been working against
me, his wife's kinsman, behind my back, my friends about here would
make the country too hot to hold him."
"Yes, father; but please do not let him guess that we have learnt
it from Ciceley. You see, that is the only way we know about it."
"Yes, you are right there. I will be careful that he shall not know
the little maid has anything to do with it. But we will think of
that, afterwards; maybe nothing will come of it, after all. But, if
anything does, mind, my orders are that you keep away from the
house, while they are in it. When you come back, Banks will tell
you what has happened.
"You had better take your horse, and go for a ride now. Not over
there, Charlie. I know, if you happened to meet that fellow, he
would read in your face that you knew the part he had been playing,
and, should nothing come of the business, I don't want him to know
that, at present. The fellow can henceforth do us no harm, for we
shall be on our guard against eavesdroppers; and, for the sake of
cousin Celia and the child, I do not want an open breach. I do not
see the man often, myself, and I will take good care I don't put
myself in the way of meeting him, for the present, at any rate.
Don't ride over there today."
"Very well, father. I will ride over and see Harry Jervoise. I
promised him that I would come over one day this week."
It was a ten-mile ride, and, as he entered the courtyard of Mr.
Jervoise's fine old mansion, he leapt off his horse, and threw the
reins over a post. A servant came out.
"The master wishes to speak to you, Master Carstairs."
"No ill news, I hope, Charlie?" Mr. Jervoise asked anxiously, as
the lad was shown into the room, where his host was standing beside
the carved chimney piece.
"No, sir, there is nothing new. My father thought that I had better
be away today, in case any trouble should arise out of what took
place yesterday, so I rode over to see Harry. I promised to do so,
one day this week."
"That is right. Does Sir Marmaduke think, then, that he will be
arrested?"
"I don't know that he expects it, sir, but he says that it is
possible."
"I do not see that they have anything to go upon, Charlie. As we
agreed last night, that spy never had any opportunity of
overhearing us before, and, certainly, he can have heard nothing
yesterday. The fellow can only say what many people know, or could
know, if they liked; that half a dozen of Sir Marmaduke's friends
rode over to take supper with him. They can make nothing out of
that."
"No, sir; and my father said that, at the worst, it could be but
the matter of a fine."
"Quite so, lad; but I don't even see how it could amount to that.
You will find Harry somewhere about the house. He has said nothing
to me about going out."
Harry Jervoise was just the same age as Charlie, and was his
greatest friend. They were both enthusiastic in the cause of the
Stuarts, equally vehement in their expressions of contempt for the
Dutch king, equally anxious for the coming of him whom they
regarded as their lawful monarch. They spent the morning together,
as usual; went first to the stables and patted and talked to their
horses; then they played at bowls on the lawn; after which, they
had a bout of sword play; and, having thus let off some of their
animal spirits, sat down and talked of the glorious times to come,
when the king was to have his own again.
Late in the afternoon, Charlie mounted his horse and rode for home.
When within half a mile of the house, a man stepped out into the
road in front of him.
"Hullo, Banks, what is it? No bad news, I hope?"
And he leapt from his horse, alarmed at the pallor of the old
butler's face.
"Yes, Master Charles, I have some very bad news, and have been
waiting for the last two hours here, so as to stop you going to the
house."
"Why shouldn't I go to the house?"
"Because there are a dozen soldiers, and three or four constables
there."
"And my father?"
"They have taken him away."
"This is bad news, Banks; but I know that he thought that it might
be so. But it will not be very serious; it is only a question of a
fine," he said.
The butler shook his head, sadly.
"It is worse than that, Master Charles. It is worse than you
think."
"Well, tell me all about it, Banks," Charlie said, feeling much
alarmed at the old man's manner.
"Well, sir, at three this afternoon, two magistrates, John Cockshaw
and William Peters--"
("Both bitter Whigs," Charlie put in.)
"--Rode up to the door. They had with them six constables, and
twenty troopers."
"There were enough of them, then," Charlie said. "Did they think my
father was going to arm you all, and defend the place?"
"I don't know, sir, but that is the number that came. The
magistrates, and the constables, and four of the soldiers came into
the house. Sir Marmaduke met them in the hall.
"'To what do I owe the honour of this visit?' he said, quite cold
and haughty.
"'We have come, Sir Marmaduke Carstairs, to arrest you, on the
charge of being concerned in a treasonable plot against the king's
life.'
"Sir Marmaduke laughed out loud.
"'I have no design on the life of William of Orange, or of any
other man,' he said. 'I do not pretend to love him; in that matter
there are thousands in this realm with me; but, as for a design
against his life, I should say, gentlemen, there are few who know
me, even among men like yourselves, whose politics are opposed to
mine, who would for a moment credit such a foul insinuation.'
"'We have nothing to do with that matter, Sir Marmaduke,' John
Cockshaw said. 'We are acting upon a sworn information to that
effect.'
"Sir Marmaduke was angry, now.
"'I can guess the name of the dog who signed it,' he said, 'and,
kinsman though he is by marriage, I will force the lie down his
throat.'
"Then he cooled down again.
"'Well, gentlemen, you have to do your duty. What do you desire
next?'
"'Our duty is, next, to search the house, for any treasonable
documents that may be concealed here.'
"'Search away, gentlemen,' Sir Marmaduke said, seating himself in
one of the settles. 'The house is open to you. My butler, James
Banks, will go round with you, and will open for you any cupboard
or chest that may be locked.'
"The magistrates nodded to the four soldiers. Two of them took
their post near the chair, one at the outside door, and one at the
other end of the room. Sir Marmaduke said nothing, but shrugged his
shoulders, and then began to play with the ears of the little
spaniel, Fido, that had jumped up on his knees.
"'We will first go into the study,' John Cockshaw said; and I led
them there.
"They went straight to the cabinet with the pull-down desk, where
Sir Marmaduke writes when he does write, which is not often. It was
locked, and I went to Sir Marmaduke for the key.
"'You will find it in that French vase on the mantel,' he said. 'I
don't open the desk once in three months, and should lose the key,
if I carried it with me.'
"I went to the mantel, turned the vase over, and the key dropped
out.
"'Sir Marmaduke has nothing to hide, gentlemen,' I said, 'so, you
see, he keeps the key here.'
"I went to the cabinet, and put the key in. As I did so I said:
"'Look, gentlemen, someone has opened, or tried to open, this desk.
Here is a mark, as if a knife had been thrust in to shoot the
bolt.'
"They looked where I pointed, and William Peters said to Cockshaw,
'It is as the man says. Someone has been trying to force the
lock--one of the varlets, probably, who thought the knight might
keep his money here.'
"'It can be of no importance, one way or the other,' Cockshaw said
roughly.
"'Probably not, Mr. Cockshaw, but, at the same time I will make a
note of it.'
"I turned the key, and pulled down the door that makes a desk. They
seemed to know all about it, for, without looking at the papers in
the pigeonholes, they pulled open the lower drawer, and took two
foreign-looking letters out from it. I will do them the justice to
say that they both looked sorry, as they opened them, and looked at
the writing.
"'It is too true,' Peters said. 'Here is enough to hang a dozen
men.'
"They tumbled all the other papers into a sack, that one of the
constables had brought with him. Then they searched all the other
furniture, but they evidently did not expect to find anything. Then
they went back into the hall.
"'Well, gentlemen,' Sir Marmaduke said, 'have you found anything of
a terrible kind?'
"'We have found, I regret to say,' John Cockshaw said, 'the letters
of which we were in search, in your private cabinet--letters that
prove, beyond all doubt, that you are concerned in a plot similar
to that discovered three years ago, to assassinate his majesty the
king.'
"Sir Marmaduke sprang to his feet.
"'You have found letters of that kind in my cabinet?' he said, in a
dazed sort of way.
"The magistrate bowed, but did not speak.
"'Then, sir,' Sir Marmaduke exclaimed, 'you have found letters that
I have never seen. You have found letters that must have been
placed there by some scoundrel, who plotted my ruin. I assert to
you, on the honour of a gentleman, that no such letters have ever
met my eye, and that, if such a proposition had been made to me, I
care not by whom, I would have struck to the ground the man who
offered me such an insult.'
"'We are sorry, Sir Marmaduke Carstairs,' Mr. Peters said, 'most
sorry, both of us, that it should have fallen to our duty to take
so painful a proceeding against a neighbour; but, you see, the
matter is beyond us. We have received a sworn information that you
are engaged in such a plot. We are told that you are in the habit
of locking up papers of importance in a certain cabinet, and there
we find papers of a most damnatory kind. We most sincerely trust
that you may be able to prove your innocence in the matter, but we
have nothing to do but to take you with us, as a prisoner, to
Lancaster.'
"Sir Marmaduke unbuckled his sword, and laid it by. He was quieter
than I thought he could be, in such a strait, for he has always
been by nature, as you know, choleric.
"'I am ready, gentlemen,' he said.
"Peters whispered in Cockshaw's ear.
"'Ah yes,' the other said, 'I had well-nigh forgotten,' and he
turned to me. 'Where is Master Charles Carstairs?'
"'He is not in the house,' I said. 'He rode away this morning, and
did not tell me where he was going.'
"'When do you expect him back?'
"'I do not expect him at all,' I said. 'When Master Charles rides
out to visit his friends, he sometimes stays away for a day or
two.'
"'Is it supposed,' Sir Marmaduke asked coldly, 'that my son is also
mixed up in this precious scheme?'
"'It is sworn that he was privy to it,' John Cockshaw said, 'and
is, therefore, included in the orders for arrest.'
"Sir Marmaduke did not speak, but he shut his lips tight, and his
hand went to where the hilt of his sword would have been. Two of
the constables went out and questioned the grooms, and found that
you had, as I said, ridden off. When they came back, there was some
talk between the magistrates, and then, as I said, four constables
and some soldiers were left in the house. Sir Marmaduke's horse was
brought round, and he rode away, with the magistrates and the other
soldiers."
"I am quite sure, Banks, that my father could have known nothing of
those letters, or of any plot against William's life. I have heard
him speak so often of the assassination plot, and how disgraceful
it was, and how, apart from its wickedness, it had damaged the
cause, that I am certain he would not have listened to a word about
another such business."
"I am sure of that, too," the old butler said; "but that is not the
question, Master Charles. There are the papers. We know that Sir
Marmaduke did not put them there, and that he did not know that
they were there. But how is it to be proved, sir? Everyone knows
that Sir Marmaduke is a Jacobite, and is regarded as the head of
the party in this part of the country. He has enemies, and one of
them, no doubt, has played this evil trick upon him, and the
putting of your name in shows what the motive is."
"But it is ridiculous, Banks. Who could believe that such a matter
as this would be confided to a lad of my age?"
"They might not believe it in their hearts, but people often
believe what suits their interest. This accusation touches Sir
Marmaduke's life; and his estate, even if his life were spared,
would be confiscated. In such a case, it might be granted to
anyone, and possibly even to the son of him they would call the
traitor. But the accusation that the son was concerned, or was, at
any rate, privy to the crime intended by the father, would set all
against him, and public opinion would approve of the estates
passing away from him altogether.
"But now, sir, what do you think you had best do?"
"Of course I shall go on, Banks, and let them take me to join my
father in Lancaster jail. Do you think I would run away?"
"No, sir, I don't think you would run away. I am sure you would not
run away from fear, but I would not let them lay hands on me, until
I had thought the matter well over. You might be able to do more
good to Sir Marmaduke were you free, than you could do if you were
caged up with him. He has enemies, we know, who are doing their
best to ruin him, and, as you see, they are anxious that you, too,
should be shut up within four walls."
"You are right, Banks. At any rate, I will ride back and consult
Mr. Jervoise. Besides, he ought to be warned, for he, too, may be
arrested on the same charge. How did you get away without being
noticed?"
"I said that I felt ill--and I was not speaking falsely--at Sir
Marmaduke's arrest, and would lie down. They are keeping a sharp
lookout at the stables, and have a soldier at each door, to see
that no one leaves the house, but I went out by that old passage
that comes out among the ruins of the monastery."
"I know, Banks. My father showed it to me, three years ago."
"I shall go back that way again, sir, and no one will know that I
have left the house. You know the trick of the sliding panel,
Master Charles?"
"Yes, I know it, and if I should want to come into the house again,
I will come that way, Banks."
"Here is a purse," the butler said. "You may want money, sir.
Should you want more, there is a store hidden away, in the hiding
place under the floor of the Priest's Chamber, at the other end of
the passage. Do you know that?"
"I know the Priest's Chamber of course, because you go through that
to get to the long passage, but I don't know of any special hiding
place there."
"Doubtless, Sir Marmaduke did not think it necessary to show it you
then, sir, but he would have done it later on, so I do not consider
that I am breaking my oath of secrecy in telling you. You know the
little narrow loophole in the corner?"
"Yes, of course. There is no other that gives light to the room. It
is hidden from view outside by the ivy."
"Well, sir, you count four bricks below that, and you press hard on
the next, that is the fifth, then you will hear a click, then you
press hard with your heel at the corner, in the angle of the flag
below, and you will find the other corner rise. Then you get hold
of it and lift it up, and below there is a stone chamber, two feet
long and about eighteen inches wide and deep. It was made to
conceal papers in the old days, and I believe food was always kept
there, in case the chamber had to be used in haste.
"Sir Marmaduke uses it as a store place for his money. He has laid
by a good deal every year, knowing that money would be wanted when
troops had to be raised. I was with him about three weeks ago, when
he put in there half the rents that had been paid in. So, if you
want money for any purpose, you will know where to find it."
"Thank you, Banks. It may be very useful to have such a store,
now."
"Where shall I send to you, sir, if I have any news that it is
urgent you should know of?"
"Send to Mr. Jervoise, Banks. If I am not there, he will know where
I am to be found."
"I will send Will Ticehurst, Master Charles. He is a stout lad, and
a shrewd one, and I know there is nothing that he would not do for
you. But you had best stop no longer. Should they find out that I
am not in the house, they will guess that I have come to warn you,
and may send out a party to search."
Charlie at once mounted, and rode back to Mr. Jervoise's.
"I expected you back," that gentleman said, as he entered. "Bad
news travels apace, and, an hour since, a man brought in the news
that Sir Marmaduke had been seen riding, evidently a prisoner,
surrounded by soldiers, on the road towards Lancaster. So that
villain we chased last night must have learnt something. I suppose
they will be here tomorrow, but I do not see what serious charge
they can have against us. We have neither collected arms, nor taken
any steps towards a rising. We have talked over what we might do,
if there were a landing made from France, but, as there may be no
landing, that is a very vague charge."
"Unfortunately, that is not the charge against my father. It is a
much more serious business."
And Charlie repeated the substance of what Banks had told him,
interrupted occasionally by indignant ejaculations from Mr.
Jervoise.
"It is an infamous plot," he said, when the lad had concluded his
story. "Infamous! There was never a word said of such a scheme, and
no one who knows your father would believe it for an instant."
"Yes, sir, but the judges, who do not know him, may believe it. No
doubt those who put those papers there, will bring forward evidence
to back it up."
"I am afraid that will be the case. It is serious for us all," Mr.
Jervoise said thoughtfully. "That man will be prepared to swear
that he heard the plot discussed by us all. They seized your
father, today, as being the principal and most important of those
concerned in it, but we may all find ourselves in the same case
tomorrow. I must think it over.
"It is well that your man warned you. You had best not stay here
tonight, for the house may be surrounded at daybreak. Harry shall
go over, with you, to one of my tenants, and you can both sleep
there. It will not be necessary for you to leave for another two or
three hours. You had better go to him now; supper will be served in
half an hour. I will talk with you again, afterwards."
Harry was waiting outside the door, having also heard the news of
Sir Marmaduke's arrest.
"It is villainous!" he exclaimed, when he heard the whole story.
"No doubt you are right, and that John Dormay is at the bottom of
it all. The villain ought to be slain."
"He deserves it, Harry; and, if I thought it would do good, I would
gladly fight him, but I fear that it would do harm. Such a
scoundrel must needs be a coward, and he might call for aid, and I
might be dragged off to Lancaster. Moreover, he is Ciceley's
father, and my cousin Celia's husband, and, were I to kill him, it
would separate me altogether from them. However, I shall in all
things be guided by your father. He will know what best ought to be
done.
"It is likely that he, too, may be arrested. This is evidently a
deep plot, and your father thinks that, although the papers alone
may not be sufficient to convict my father, the spy we had in our
house will be ready to swear that he heard your father, and mine,
and the others, making arrangements for the murder of William of
Orange; and their own word to the contrary would count but little
against such evidence, backed by those papers."
They talked together for half an hour, and were then summoned to
supper. Nothing was said, upon the subject, until the servitors had
retired, and the meal was cleared away. Mr. Jervoise was, like Sir
Marmaduke, a widower.
"I have been thinking it all over," he said, when they were alone.
"I have determined to ride, at once, to consult some of my friends,
and to warn them of what has taken place. That is clearly my duty.
I shall not return until I learn whether warrants are out for my
apprehension. Of course, the evidence is not so strong against me
as it is against Sir Marmaduke; still, the spy's evidence would
tell as much against me as against him.
"You will go up, Harry, with your friend, to Pincot's farm. It lies
so far in the hills that it would probably be one of the last to be
searched, and, if a very sharp lookout is kept there, a body of men
riding up the valley would be seen over a mile away, and there
would be plenty of time to take to the hills. There Charlie had
better remain, until he hears from me.
"You can return here, Harry, in the morning, for there is no
probability whatever of your being included in any warrant of
arrest. It could only relate to us, who were in the habit of
meeting at Sir Marmaduke's. You will ride over to the farm each
day, and tell Charlie any news you may have learnt, or take any
message I may send you for him.
"We must do nothing hastily. The first thing to learn, if possible,
is whether any of us are included in the charge of being concerned
in a plot against William's life. In the next place, who are the
witnesses, and what evidence they intend to give. No doubt the most
important is the man who was placed as a spy at Sir Marmaduke's."
"As I know his face, sir," Charlie said eagerly, "could I not find
him, and either force him to acknowledge that it is all false, or
else kill him? I should be in my right in doing that, surely, since
he is trying to swear away my father's life by false evidence."
"I should say nothing against that, lad. If ever a fellow deserved
killing he does; that is, next to his rascally employer. But his
death would harm rather than benefit us. It would be assumed, of
course, that we had removed him to prevent his giving evidence
against us. No doubt his depositions have been taken down, and they
would then be assumed to be true, and we should be worse off than
if he could be confronted with us, face to face, in the court. We
must let the matter rest, at present."
"Would it be possible to get my father out of prison, sir? I am
sure I can get a dozen men, from among the tenants and grooms, who
would gladly risk their lives for him."
"Lancaster jail is a very strong place," Mr. Jervoise said, "and I
fear there is no possibility of rescuing him from it. Of course, at
present we cannot say where the trial will take place. A commission
may be sent down, to hold a special assizes at Lancaster, or the
trial may take place in London. At any rate, nothing whatever can
be done, until we know more. I have means of learning what takes
place at Lancaster, for we have friends there, as well as at most
other places. When I hear from them the exact nature of the charge,
the evidence that will be given, and the names of those accused of
being mixed up in this pretended plot, I shall be better able to
say what is to be done.
"Now, I must mount and ride without further delay. I have to visit
all our friends who met at Lynnwood, and it will take me until
tomorrow morning to see and confer with them."
A few minutes after Mr. Jervoise had ridden off, his son and
Charlie also mounted. A man went with them, with a supply of
torches, for, although Harry knew the road--which was little better
than a sheep track--well enough during the day, his father thought
he might find it difficult, if not impossible, to follow it on a
dark night.
They congratulated themselves upon the precaution taken, before
they had gone very far, for there was no moon, the sky was
overcast, and a drizzling rain had begun to come down. They could
hardly see their horses' heads, and had proceeded but a short
distance, when it became necessary for their guide to light a
torch. It took them, therefore, over two hours to reach the
mountain farm.
They were expected, otherwise the household would have been asleep.
Mr. Jervoise had, as soon as he determined upon their going there,
sent off a man on horseback, who, riding fast, had arrived before
night set in. There was, therefore, a great turf fire glowing on
the hearth when they arrived, and a hearty welcome awaiting them
from the farmer, his wife, and daughters. Harry had, by his
father's advice, brought two changes of clothes in a valise, but
they were so completely soaked to the skin that they decided they
would, after drinking a horn of hot-spiced ale that had been
prepared for them, go at once to bed, where, in spite of the
stirring events of the day, both went off to sleep, as soon as
their heads touched the pillows.
The sun was shining brightly, when they woke. The mists had cleared
off, although they still hung round the head of Ingleborough, six
miles away, and on some of the other hilltops. The change of
weather had an inspiriting effect, and they went down to breakfast
in a brighter and more hopeful frame of mind. As soon as the meal
was over, Harry started for home.
"I hope it won't be long before I can see you again, Harry,"
Charlie said, as he stood by the horse.
"I hope not, indeed; but there is no saying. My father's orders are
that I am to stay at home, if people come and take possession, and
send a man off to you with the news privately, but that, if no one
comes, I may myself bring you over any news there is; so I may be
back here this afternoon."
"I shall be looking out for you, Harry. Remember, it will be
horribly dull for me up here, wondering and fretting as to what is
going on."
"I know, Charlie; and you shall hear, as soon as I get the smallest
scrap of news. If I were you, I would go for a good walk among the
hills. It will be much better for you than moping here. At any
rate, you are not likely to get any news for some hours to come."
Charlie took the advice, and started among the hills, not returning
until the midday meal was ready. Before he had finished his dinner
there was a tap at the door, and then a young fellow, whom he knew
to be employed in Mr. Jervoise's stables, looked in. Charlie sprang
to his feet.
"What's the news?" he asked.
"Master Harry bade me tell you, sir, that a magistrate, and four
constables, and ten soldier men came today, at nine o'clock. He had
returned but a half-hour when they rode up. They had an order for
the arrest of Mr. Jervoise, and have been searching the house, high
and low, for papers. No one is allowed to leave the place, but
Master Harry came out to the stables and gave me his orders, and I
did not find much difficulty in slipping out without their noticing
me. Mr. Harry said that he had no news of Mr. Jervoise, nor any
other news, save what I have told you. He bade me return at once
as, later on, he may want to send me again. I was to be most
careful that no one should see me when I got back, and, if I was
caught, I was on no account to say where I had been to."
The farmer insisted upon the young fellow sitting down at the
table, and taking some food, before he started to go back. He
required no pressing, but, as soon as his hunger was satisfied, he
started again at a brisk run, which he kept up as long as Charlie's
eye could follow him down the valley.
Although the boy by no means wished Mr. Jervoise to be involved in
his father's trouble, Charlie could not help feeling a certain
amount of pleasure at the news. He thought it certain that, if his
father escaped, he would have to leave the country, and that he
would, in that case, take him as companion in his flight. If Mr.
Jervoise and Harry also left the country, it would be vastly more
pleasant for both his father and himself. Where they would go to,
or what they would do, he had no idea, but it seemed to him that
exile among strangers would be bearable, if he had his friend with
him. It would not last many years, for surely the often talked-of
landing could not be very much longer delayed; then they would
return, share in the triumph of the Stuart cause, and resume their
life at Lynnwood, and reckon with those who had brought this foul
charge against them.
That the Jacobite cause could fail to triumph was a contingency to
which Charlie did not give even a thought. He had been taught that
it was a just and holy cause. All his school friends, as well as
the gentlemen who visited his father, were firm adherents of it,
and he believed that the same sentiments must everywhere prevail.
There was, then, nothing but the troops of William to reckon with,
and these could hardly oppose a rising of the English people,
backed by aid from France.
It was not until after dark that the messenger returned.
"Master Harry bade me tell you, sir, that a gipsy boy he had never
seen before has brought him a little note from his father. He will
not return at present, but, if Mr. Harry can manage to slip away
unnoticed in the afternoon, tomorrow, he is to come here. He is not
to come direct, but to make a circuit, lest he should be watched
and followed, and it may be that the master will meet him here."
Charlie was very glad to hear this. Harry could, of course, give
him little news of what was going on outside the house, but Mr.
Jervoise might be able to tell him something about his father,
especially as he had said he had means of learning what went on in
Lancaster jail.
He was longing to be doing something. It seemed intolerable to him
that he should be wandering aimlessly among the hills, while his
father was lying in Lancaster, with a charge affecting his life
hanging over him. What he could do he knew not, but anything would
be better than doing nothing. Mr. Jervoise had seemed to think that
it was out of the question to attempt a rescue from Lancaster; but
surely, if he could get together forty or fifty determined fellows,
a sudden assault upon the place might be successful.
Then he set to work reckoning up the grooms, the younger tenants,
and the sons of the older ones, and jotted down the names of
twenty-seven who he thought might join in the attempt.
"If Harry could get twenty-three from his people, that would make
it up to the number," he said. "Of course, I don't know what the
difficulties to be encountered may be. I have ridden there with my
father, and I know that the castle is a strong one, but I did not
notice it very particularly. The first thing to do will be to go
and examine it closely. No doubt ladders will be required, but we
could make rope ladders, and take them into the town in a cart,
hidden under faggots, or something of that sort.
"I do hope Mr. Jervoise will come tomorrow. It is horrible waiting
here in suspense."
The next morning, the hours seemed endless. Half a dozen times he
went restlessly in and out, walking a little distance up the hill
rising from the valley, and returning again, with the vain idea
that Mr. Jervoise might have arrived.
Still more slowly did the time appear to go, after dinner. He was
getting into a fever of impatience and anxiety, when, about five
o'clock, he saw a figure coming down the hillside from the right.
It was too far away to recognize with certainty, but, by the rapid
pace at which he descended the hill, he had little doubt that it
was Harry, and he at once started, at the top of his speed, to meet
him.
The doubt was soon changed into a certainty. When, a few hundred
yards up the hill, he met his friend, both were almost breathless.
Harry was the first to gasp out:
"Has my father arrived?"
"Not yet."
Harry threw himself down on the short grass, with an exclamation of
thankfulness.
"I have run nearly every foot of the way," he said, as soon as he
got his breath a little. "I had awful difficulty in getting out.
One of the constables kept in the same room with me, and followed
me wherever I went. They evidently thought I might hear from my
father, or try to send him a message. At last, I got desperate, and
ran upstairs to that room next mine, and closed and locked the door
after me. You know the ivy grows high up the wall there, and
directly I got in, I threw open the casement and climbed down by
it. It gave way two or three times, and I thought I was gone, but I
stuck to it, and managed each time to get a fresh hold. The moment
I was down, I ran along by the foot of the wall until I got round
behind, made a dash into that clump of fir trees, crawled along in
a ditch till I thought I was safe, and then made a run for it. I
was so afraid of being followed that I have been at least three
miles round, but I don't mind, now that my father hasn't arrived. I
was in such a fright that he might come and go before I got here."