A MISSION OF STATE.
When Harry rode into Oxford with the news that the Roundheads had made a
raid as far as Abingdon, no time was lost in sounding to boot and
saddle, and in half an hour the Cavalier horse were trotting briskly in
that direction. They entered Abingdon unopposed, and found to their
disgust that the Roundheads had departed an hour after their arrival. A
party went up to Furness Hall, and found it also deserted. The
Roundheads, in fact, had made but a flying raid, had carried off one or
two of the leading Royalists in the town, and had, on their retirement,
been accompanied by several of the party favorable to the Commons, among
others, Master Rippinghall and the greater portion of his men, who had,
it was suspected, been already enrolled for the service of the
Parliament. Some of the Royalists would fain have sacked the house of
the wool-stapler; but Colonel Furness, who had accompanied the force
with his troop, opposed this vehemently.
"As long as we can," he said, "let private houses be respected. If the
Puritans commence, it will be time for us to retort. There are
gentlemen's mansions all over the country, many of them in the heart of
Roundhead neighborhoods, and if they had once an excuse in our
proceedings not one of these would be safe for a minute."
Leaving a strong force of horse in Abingdon, Prince Rupert returned to
Oxford, and Colonel Furness again settled down in his residence, his
troop dispersing to their farms until required, a small body only
remaining at Furness Hall as a guard, and in readiness to call the
others to arms if necessary. The colonel warmly approved of the steps
that Harry had taken to save the valuables, and determined that until
the war was at an end these should remain hidden, as it was probable
enough that the chances of the strife might again lead the Roundheads
thither.
"I hope, father," Harry Furness said the following day, "that you will
now permit me to join the troop. I am getting on for sixteen, and could
surely bear myself as a man in the fray."
"If the time should come, Harry, when the fortune of war may compel the
king to retire from Oxford--which I trust may never be--I would then
grant your request, for after your encounter with the officer who
commanded the Roundheads here, it would not be safe for you to remain
behind. But although you are too young to take part in the war, I may
find you employment. After a council that was held yesterday at Oxford,
I learned, from one in the king's secrets, that it was designed to send
a messenger to London with papers of importance, and to keep up the
communication with the king's friends in that city. There was some
debate as to who should be chosen. In London, at the present time, all
strangers are closely scrutinized. Every man is suspicious of his
neighbor, and it is difficult to find one of sufficient trust whose
person is unknown. Then I have thought that maybe you could well fulfill
this important mission. A boy would be unsuspected, where a man's every
movement would be watched. There is, of course, some danger attending
the mission, and sharpness and readiness will be needed. You have shown
that you possess these, by the manner in which you made your escape from
London, and methinks that, did you offer, your services would be
accepted. You would have, of course, to go in disguise, and to accept
any situation which might appear conformable to your character and add
to your safety."
Harry at once gladly assented to the proposal. He was at the age when
lads are most eager for adventure, and he thought that it would be great
fun to be living in London, watching the doings of the Commons, and, so
far as was in his power, endeavoring to thwart them. Accordingly in the
afternoon he rode over with Sir Henry to Oxford. They dismounted in the
courtyard of the building which served as the king's court, and
entering, Sir Henry left Harry in an antechamber, and, craving an
audience with his majesty, was at once ushered into the king's cabinet.
A few minutes later he returned, and motioned to Harry to follow him.
The latter did so, and the next moment found himself in the presence of
the king. The latter held out his hand for the boy to kiss, and Harry,
falling on one knee, and greatly abashed at the presence in which he
found himself, pressed his lips to King Charles' hand.
"I hear from your father, my trusty Sir Henry Furness, that you are
willing to adventure your life in our cause, and to go as our messenger
to London, and act there as our intermediary with our friends. You seem
young for so delicate a work; but your father has told me somewhat of
the manner in which you escaped from the hands of the traitors at
Westminster, and also how you bore yourself in the affair with the
rebels at his residence. It seems to me, then, that we must not judge
your wisdom by your years, and that we can safely confide our interests
in your hands. Your looks are frank and boyish, and will, therefore,
excite far less suspicion than that which would attend upon an older and
graver-looking personage. The letters will be prepared for you
to-morrow, and, believe me, should success finally crown our efforts
against these enemies of the crown, your loyalty and devotion will not
be forgotten by your king."
He again held out his hand to Harry, and the boy left the cabinet with
his heart burning with loyalty toward his monarch, and resolved that
life itself should be held cheap if it could be spent in the service of
so gracious and majestic a king.
The next morning a royal messenger brought out a packet of letters to
Furness Hall, and Harry, mounting with his father and the little body of
horse at the hall, rode toward London. His attire was that of a country
peasant boy. The letters were concealed in the hollow of a stout ashen
stick which he carried, and which had been slightly weighted with lead,
so that, should it be taken up by any but its owner, its lightness would
not attract attention. Sir Henry rode with him as far as it was prudent
to do toward the outposts of the Parliament troops. Then, bidding him a
tender farewell, and impressing upon him the necessity for the utmost
caution, both for his own sake and for that of the king, he left him.
It was not upon the highroad that they parted, but near a village some
little distance therefrom. In his pocket Harry had two or three pieces
of silver, and between the soles of his boots were sewn several gold
coins. These he did not anticipate having to use; but the necessity
might arise when such a deposit would prove of use. Harry walked quietly
through the village, where his appearance was unnoticed, and then along
the road toward Reading. He soon met a troop of Parliament horsemen; but
as he was sauntering along quietly, as if merely going from one village
to another, no attention whatever was paid to him, and he reached
Reading without the slightest difficulty. There he took up his abode for
the night at a small hostelry, mentioning to the host that his master
had wanted him to join the king's forces, but that he had no stomach for
fighting, and intended to get work in the town. The following morning he
again started, and proceeded as far as Windsor, where he slept. The next
day, walking through Hounslow and Brentford, he stopped for the night at
the village of Kensington, and the following morning entered the city.
Harry had never before been in the streets of London, for in his flight
from his prison he had at once issued into the country, and the bustle
and confusion which prevailed excited great surprise in his mind. Even
Oxford, busy as it was at the time, and full of the troops of the king
and of the noblemen and gentlemen who had rallied to his cause, was yet
quiet when compared with London. The booths along the main streets were
filled with goods, and at these the apprentices shouted loudly to all
passer-by, "What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack?" Here was a mercer
exhibiting dark cloths to a grave-looking citizen; there an armorer was
showing the temper of his wares to an officer. Citizens' wives were
shopping and gossiping; groups of men, in high steeple hats and dark
cloak, were moving along the streets. Pack horses carried goods from the
ships at the wharves below the bridge to the merchants, and Harry was
jostled hither and thither by the moving crowd. Ascending the hill of
Ludgate to the great cathedral of St. Paul's, he saw a crowd gathered
round a person on an elevated stand in the yard, and approaching to see
what was going on, found that a preacher was pouring forth anathemas
against the king and the Royal party, and inciting the citizens to throw
themselves heart and soul into the cause. Especially severe was he upon
waverers, who, he said, were worse than downright enemies, as, while the
one withstood the Parliament openly in fair fight, the others were
shifted to and fro with each breeze, and none could say whether they
were friends or enemies. Passing through the cathedral, where regular
services were no longer held, but where, in different corners, preachers
were holding forth against the king, and where groups of men strolled up
and down, talking of the troubles of the times, he issued at the eastern
door, and entering Cheapside, saw the sign of the merchant to whom he
had been directed.
This was Nicholas Fleming, a man of Dutch descent, and well spoken of
among his fellows. He dealt in silks and velvets from Genoa. His shop
presented less outward appearance than did those of his neighbors, the
goods being too rich and rare to be exposed to the weather, and he
himself dealing rather with smaller traders than with the general
public. The merchant--a grave-looking man--was sitting at his desk when
Harry entered. A clerk was in the shop, engaged in writing, and an
apprentice was rolling up a piece of silk. Harry removed his hat, and
went up to the merchant's table, and laying a letter upon it, said:
"I have come, sir, from Dame Marjory, my aunt, who was your honor's
nurse, with a letter from her, praying you to take me as an apprentice."
The merchant glanced for a moment at the boy. He was expecting a message
from the Royalist camp, and his keen wit at once led him to suspect that
the bearer stood before him, although his appearance in nowise justified
such a thought, for Harry had assumed with his peasant clothes a look of
stolid stupidity which certainly gave no warrant for the thought that a
keen spirit lay behind it. Without a word the merchant opened the
letter, which, in truth, contained nearly the same words which Harry had
spoken, but whose signature was sufficient to the merchant to indicate
that his suspicions were correct.
"Sit down," he said to the lad. "I am busy now; but will talk with you
anon."
Harry took his seat on a low stool, while the merchant continued his
writing as before, as if the incident were too unimportant to arrest his
attention for a moment. Harry amused himself by looking round the shop,
and was specially attracted by the movements of the apprentice, a
sharp-looking lad, rather younger than himself, and who, having heard
what had passed, seized every opportunity, when he was so placed that
neither the merchant nor his clerk could observe his face to make
grimaces at Harry, indicative of contempt and derision. Harry was sorely
tempted to laugh; but, with an effort, he kept his countenance, assuming
only a grim of wonder which greatly gratified Jacob, who thought that he
had obtained as companion a butt who would afford him infinite
amusement.
After the merchant had continued his writing for an hour, he laid down
his pen, and saying to Harry "Follow me; I will speak to Dame Alice, my
wife, concerning thee," left the shop and entered the inner portion of
the house, followed by Harry. The merchant led him into a sitting-room
on the floor above, where his wife, a comely dame, was occupied with her
needle.
"Dame," he said, "this is a new apprentice whom my nurse, Marjory, has
sent me. A promising-looking youth, is he not?"
His wife looked at him in surprise.
"I have never heard thee speak of thy nurse, Nicholas, and surely the
lad looks not apt to learning the mysteries of a trade like thine."
The merchant smiled gravely.
"He must be more apt than he looks, dame, or he would never have been
chosen for the service upon which he is engaged. Men do not send fools
to risk their lives; and I have been watching him for the last hour, and
have observed how he bore himself under the tricks of that jackanapes,
Jacob, and verily the wonder which I at first felt when he presented
himself to me has passed away, and what appeared to me at first sight a
strange imprudence, seems now to be a piece of wisdom. But enough of
riddles," he said, seeing that his wife's astonishment increased as he
went on. "This lad is a messenger from Oxford, and bears, I doubt not,
important documents. What is thy true name, boy?"
"I am Harry Furness, the son of Sir Henry Furness, one of the king's
officers," Harry said; "and my papers are concealed within this staff."
Thereupon he lifted his stick and showed that at the bottom a piece of
wood had been artfully fitted into a hollow, and then, by being rubbed
upon the ground, so worn as to appear part of a solid whole. Taking his
knife from his pocket, he cut off an inch from the lower end of the
stick, and then shook out on to the table a number of slips of paper
tightly rolled together.
"I will examine these at my leisure," the merchant said; "and now as to
thyself. What instructions have you?"
"I am told, sir, to take up my abode with you, if it so pleases you; to
assume the garb and habits of an apprentice; and, moreover, to do such
messages as you may give me, and which, perhaps, I may perform with less
risk of observation, and with more fidelity than any ordinary
messenger."
"The proposal is a good one," the trader said. "I am often puzzled how
to send notes to those of my neighbors with whom I am in
correspondence, for the lad Jacob is sharp--too sharp, indeed, for my
purpose, and might suspect the purport of his goings and comings. I
believe him to be faithful, though overapt to mischief. But in these
days one cares not to risk one's neck unless on a surety. The first
thing will be, then, to procure for thee a suit of clothes, suitable to
thy new position. Under the plea that at present work is but slack--for
indeed the troubles of the times have well-nigh ruined the trade in such
goods as mine, throwing it all into the hands of the smiths--I shall be
able to grant thee some license, and to allow thee to go about and see
the city and acquaint thyself with its ways. Master Jacob may feel,
perhaps, a little jealous; but this matters not. I somewhat misdoubt the
boy, though perhaps unjustly. But I know not how his opinions may go
toward matters politic. He believes me, I think, as do other men, to be
attached to the present state of things; but even did his thoughts jump
otherwise, he would not have opened his lips before me. It would be
well, therefore, for you to be cautious in the extreme with him, and to
find out of a verity what be his nature and disposition. Doubtless, in
time, he will unbosom to you and you may see whether he has any
suspicions, and how far he is to be trusted. He was recommended to me
by a friend at Poole, and I know not the opinions of his people. I will
come forth with you now and order the clothes without delay, and we will
return in time for dinner, which will be at twelve, of which time it now
lacks half an hour."
Putting on his high hat, the merchant sallied out with Harry into the
Cheap, and going to a clothier's was able to purchase ready-made
garments suitable to his new position as a 'prentice boy. Returning with
these, he bade the lad mount to the room which he was to share Jacob,
to change with all speed, and to come down to dinner, which was now
nearly ready.
The meal was to Harry a curious one. The merchant sat at one end of the
table, his wife at the other. The scrivener occupied a place on one
side, and his fellow-apprentice and himself on the other. The merchant
spoke to his wife on the troubles of the times in a grave, oracular
voice, which appeared to be intended chiefly for the edification of his
three assistants, who ate their dinner in silence, only saying a word or
two in answer to any question addressed to them. Harry, who was
accustomed to dine with his father, was somewhat nice in his ways of
eating. But, observing a sudden look of interest and suspicion upon the
face of the sharp boy beside him at his manner of eating, he, without
making so sudden a change as to be perceptible, gradually fell into the
way of eating of his companion, mentally blaming himself severely for
having for a moment forgotten his assumed part.
"I shall not need you this afternoon, Roger," the merchant said; "and
you can go out and view the sights of the city. Avoid getting into any
quarrels or broils, and especially observe the names writ up on the
corner of the houses, in order that you may learn the streets and so be
able to find your way about should I send you with messages or goods."
Harry spent the afternoon as directed, and was mightily amused and
entertained by the sights which he witnessed. Especially was he
interested in London Bridge, which, covered closely with houses,
stretched across the river, and at the great fleet of vessels which lay
moored to the wharves below. Here Harry spent the greater portion of the
afternoon, watching the numerous boats as they shot the bridge, and the
barges receiving merchandise from the vessels.
At five o'clock the shop was shut, and at six supper was served in the
same order as dinner had been. At eight they retired to bed.
"Well, Master Roger," said Jacob, when they were done, "and what is thy
father?"
"He farms a piece of land of his own," Harry said. "Sometimes I live
with him; but more often with my uncle, who is a trader in Bristol--a
man of some wealth, and much respected by the citizens."
"Ah! it is there that thou hast learnt thy tricks of eating," Jacob
said. "I wondered to see thee handle thy knife and fork so daintily, and
in a manner which assuredly smacked of the city rather than of the
farm."
"My uncle," Harry said, "is a particular man as to his habits, and as
many leading citizens of the town often take their meals at his house,
he was ever worrying me to behave, as he said, more like a Christian
than a hog. What a town is this London! What heaps of people, and what
wonderful sights!"
"Yes," the apprentice said carelessly. "But you have as yet seen
nothing. You should see the giant with eight heads, at the Guildhall."
"A giant with eight heads?" Henry exclaimed wonderingly. "Why, he have
five more than the giant whom my mother told me of when I was little,
that was killed by Jack, the Giant Killer. I must go and see him of a
surety.'"
"You must mind," the apprentice said; "for a boy is served up for him
every morning for breakfast."
"Now you are trying to fool me," Harry said. "My mother warned me that
the boys of London were wickedly disposed, and given to mock at
strangers. But I tell thee, Master Jacob, that I have a heavy fist, and
was considered a fighter in the village. Therefore, mind how thou triest
to fool me. Mother always said I was not such a fool as I looked."
"You may well be that," Jacob said, "and yet a very big fool. But at
present I do not know whether your folly is more than skin deep, and
methinks that the respectable trader, your uncle, has taught you more
than how to eat like a Christian."
Harry felt at once that in this sharp boy he had a critic far more
dangerous than any he was likely to meet elsewhere. Others would pass
him unnoticed; but his fellow-apprentice would criticise every act and
word, and he felt somewhat disquieted to find that he had fallen under
such supervision. It was now, he felt, all-important for him to discover
what were the real sentiments of the boy, and whether he was trustworthy
to his master, and to be relied upon to keep the secret which had fallen
into his possession.
"I have been," he said, "in the big church at the end of this street.
What a pother the preachers do surely keep up there. I should be sorely
worried to hear them long, and would rather thrash out a load of corn
than listen long to the clacking of their tongues."
"Thou wilt be sicker still of them before thou hast done with them. It
is one of the duties of us apprentices to listen to the teachers, and if
I had my way, we would have an apprentices' riot, and demand to be kept
to the terms of our indentures, which say nothing about preachers. What
is the way of thinking of this uncle of yours?"
"He is a prudent man," Roger said, "and says but little. For myself, I
care nothing either way, and cannot understand what they are making this
pother about. So far as I can see, folks only want to be quiet, and do
their work. But even in our village at home there is no quiet now. Some
are one way, some t'other. There are the Church folk, and the
meeting-house folk, and it is as much as they can do to keep themselves
from going at each other's throats. I hear so much about it that my
brain gets stupid with it all, and I hate Parliament and king worse than
the schoolmaster who used to whack me for never knowing the difference
between one letter and another."
"But you can read and write, I suppose?" Jacob said; "or you would be of
little use as an apprentice."
"Yes, I can read and write," Roger said; "but I cannot say that I love
these things. I doubt me that I am not fitter for the plow than for a
trade. But my Aunt Marjory was forever going on about my coming to
London, and entering the shop of Master Nicholas Fleming, and as it
seemed an easy thing to sell yards of silks and velvets, I did not stand
against her wishes, especially as she promised that if in a year's time
I did not like the life, she would ask Master Nicholas to cancel my
indentures, and let me go back again to the farm."
"Ah, well," Jacob said, "it is useful to have an aunt who has been nurse
to a city merchant. The life is not a bad one, though our master is
strict with all. But Dame Alice is a good housewife, and has a light
hand at confections, and when there are good things on the table she
does not, as do most of the wives of the traders, keep them for herself
and her husband, but lets us have a share also."
"I am fond of confections,", Harry said; "and my Aunt Marjory is famous
at them; and now, as I am very sleepy, I will go off. But methinks,
Jacob, that you take up hugely more than your share of the bed."
After a little grumbling on both sides the boys disposed themselves to
sleep, each wondering somewhat over the character of the other, and
determining to make a better acquaintance shortly.