overlook the offence. Snakes and scorpions! no man can be a greater
martyr to jealousy than myself. I killed three of my most intimate
friends for merely presuming to ogle the widow of Watling-street, who
would have been mine, if she had not died of the plague."
"Don't talk of the plague, I beseech you," replied Blaize, with a
shudder. "It is a subject never mentioned here."
"I am sorry I alluded to it, then," rejoined Pillichody. "Give me back
my sword. Nay, fear nothing. I entirely forgive you, and am willing to
drown the remembrance of our quarrel in a bottle of sack."
Readily assenting to the proposition, Blaize obtained the key of the
cellar from the butler, and adjourning thither with Pillichody, they
seated themselves on a cask with a bottle of sack and a couple of large
glasses on a stool between them.
"I suppose you know why I am come hither?" observed the major, smacking
his lips after his second bumper.
"Not precisely," replied Blaize. "But I presume your visit has some
reference to Mistress Amabel."
"A shrewd guess," rejoined Pillichody. "And this reminds me that we have
omitted to drink her health."
"Her better health," returned Blaize, emptying his glass. "Heaven be
praised! she has plucked up a little since we came here."
"She would soon be herself again if she were united to the Earl of
Rochester," said Pillichody.
"There you are wrong," replied Blaize. "She declares she has no longer
any regard for him."
"Mere caprice, believe me," rejoined Pillichody. "She loves him better
than ever."
"It may be so," returned Blaize; "for Patience, who ought to know
something of the matter, assured me she was dying for the earl; and if
she had not told me the contrary herself, I should not have believed
it."
"Did she tell you so in the presence of Leonard?" asked Pillichody.
"Why, now I bethink me, he _was_ present," replied Blaize, involuntarily
putting his hand to his shoulder, as he recalled the horsewhipping he
had received on that occasion.
"I knew it!" cried Pillichody. "She is afraid to confess her attachment
to the earl. Is Leonard as much devoted to her as ever?"
"I fancy so," replied Blaize, "but she certainly gives _him_ no
encouragement."
"Confirmation!" exclaimed Pillichody. "But fill your glass. We will
drink to the earl's speedy union with Amabel."
"Not so loud," cried Blaize, looking uneasily round the cellar. "I
should not like Leonard to overhear us."
"Neither should I," returned Pillichody, "for I have something to say to
you respecting him."
"You need not propose any more plans for carrying off Amabel," cried
Blaize, "for I won't take any part in them."
"I have no such intention," rejoined Pillichody. "The truth is," he
added, mysteriously, "I am inclined to side with you and Leonard. But as
we have finished our bottle, suppose we take a turn in the court-yard."
"With all my heart," replied Blaize.
Immediately after Amabel's departure Charles proceeded with his
courtiers to the garden, and continued to saunter up and down the
terrace for some time, during which he engaged Rochester in
conversation, so as to give him no pretext for absenting himself. The
king next ascended to the belvedere, and having surveyed the prospect
from it, was about to descend when he caught a glimpse of Nizza
Macascree on the great staircase, and instantly flew towards her.
"I must have a word with you, sweetheart," he cried, taking her hand,
which she did not dare to withdraw.
Ready to sink with confusion, Nizza suffered herself to be led towards
the receiving-room. Motioning to the courtiers to remain without,
Charles entered it with his blushing companion, and after putting
several questions to her, which she answered with great timidity and
modesty, inquired into the state of her heart.
"Answer me frankly," he said. "Are your affections engaged?"
"Since your majesty deigns to interest yourself so much about me,"
replied Nizza, "I will use no disguise. They are."
"To whom?" demanded the king.
"To Leonard Holt," was the answer.
"What! the apprentice who brought Amabel hither!" cried the king. "Why,
the Earl of Rochester seemed to intimate that he was in love with
Amabel. Is it so?"
"I cannot deny it," replied Nizza, hanging down her head.
"If this is the case, it is incumbent on me to provide you with a new
lover," replied Charles. "What will you say, sweetheart, if I tell you,
you have made a royal conquest?"
"I should tremble to hear it," replied Nizza. "But your majesty is
jesting with me."
"On my soul, no!" rejoined the king, passionately. "I have never seen
beauty equal to yours, sweetheart--never have been so suddenly, so
completely captivated before."
"Oh! do not use this language towards me, my liege," replied Nizza,
dropping on her knee before him. "I am unworthy your notice. My heart is
entirely given to Leonard Holt."
"You will speedily forget him in the brilliant destiny which awaits you,
child," returned Charles, raising her. "Do not bestow another thought on
the senseless dolt who can prefer Amabel's sickly charms to your piquant
attractions. By Heaven! you shall be mine."
"Never!" exclaimed Nizza, extricating herself from his grasp, and
rushing towards the door.
"You fly in vain," cried the king, laughingly pursuing her.
As he spoke the door opened, and Sir Paul Parravicin entered the room.
The knight started on seeing how matters stood, and the king looked
surprised and angry. Taking advantage of their embarrassment, Nizza made
good her retreat, and hurrying to Amabel's chamber, closed and bolted
the door.
"What is the matter?" cried Amabel, startled by her agitated appearance.
"Sir Paul Parravicin is here," replied Nizza. "I have seen him. But that
is not all. I am unlucky enough to have attracted the king's fancy. He
has terrified me with his proposals."
"Our persecution is never to end," rejoined Amabel; "you are as
unfortunate as myself."
"And there is no possibility of escape," returned Nizza, bursting into
tears; "we are snared like birds in the nets of the fowler."
"You can fly with Leonard if you choose," replied Amabel.
"And leave you--impossible!" rejoined Nizza.
"There is nothing for it, then, but resignation," returned Amabel. "Let
us put a firm trust in Heaven, and no ill can befall us."
After passing several hours of the greatest disquietude, they were about
to retire to rest, when Mrs. Buscot tapped at the door, and making
herself known, was instantly admitted.
"Alas!" she cried, clasping her niece round the neck, "I tremble to tell
you what I have heard. Despite the king's injunctions, the wicked Earl
of Rochester is determined to see you before morning, and to force you
to compliance with his wishes. You must fly as soon as it is dark."
"But how am I to fly, dear aunt?" rejoined Amabel. "You yourself know
that the keys of the stable are taken away, and that two of the king's
attendants will remain on the watch all night. How will it be possible
to elude their vigilance?"
"Leave Leonard to manage it," replied Mrs. Buscot. "Only prepare to set
out. John Lutcombe will guide you across the downs to Kingston Lisle,
where good Mrs. Compton will take care of you, and when the danger is
over you can return to me."
"It is a hazardous expedient," rejoined Amabel, "and I would rather run
all risks, and remain here. If the earl should resort to violence, I can
appeal to the king for protection."
"If you have any regard for me, fly," cried Nizza Macascree. "I am lost
if I remain here till to-morrow."
"For _your_ sake I will go, then," returned Amabel. "But I have a
foreboding that I am running into the teeth of danger."
"Oh! say not so," rejoined Mrs. Buscot. "I am persuaded it is for the
best. I must leave you now, but I will send Leonard to you."
"It is needless," replied Amabel. "Let him come to us at the proper
time. We will be ready."
To explain the cause of Mrs. Buscot's alarm, it will be necessary to
return to the receiving-room, and ascertain what occurred after Nizza's
flight. Charles, who at first had been greatly annoyed by Parravicin's
abrupt entrance, speedily recovered his temper, and laughed at the
other's forced apologies.
"I find I have a rival in your majesty," observed the knight. "It is
unlucky for me that you have encountered Nizza. Her charms were certain
to inflame you. But when I tell you I am desperately enamoured of her, I
am persuaded you will not interfere with me."
"I will tell you what I will do," replied the good-humoured monarch,
after a moment's reflection. "I remember your mentioning that you once
played with a Captain Disbrowe for his wife, and won her from him. We
will play for this girl in the same manner."
"But your majesty is a far more skilful player than Disbrowe," replied
Parravicin, reluctantly.
"It matters not," rejoined the monarch; "the chances will be more
equal--or rather the advantage will be greatly on your side, for you are
allowed to be the luckiest and best player at my court. If I win, she is
mine. If, on the contrary, fortune favours you, I resign her."
"Since there is no avoiding it, I accept the challenge," replied
Parravicin.
"The decision shall not be delayed an instant," cried Charles, "What,
ho!--dice!--dice!"
An attendant answering the summons, he desired that the other courtiers
should be admitted, and dice brought. The latter order could not be so
easily obeyed, there being no such articles at Ashdown; and the
attendants were driven to their wits' ends, when Pillichody chancing to
overhear what was going forward, produced a box and dice, which were
instantly conveyed to the king, and the play commenced. Charles, to his
inexpressible delight and Parravicin's chagrin, came off the winner, and
the mortification of the latter was increased by the laughter and taunts
of the spectators.
"You are not in your usual luck to-day," observed Rochester to him, as
they walked aside.
"For all this, do not think I will surrender Nizza," replied Parravicin,
in a low tone, "I love her too well for that."
"I cannot blame you," replied Rochester. "Step this way," he added,
drawing him to the further end of the room. "It is my intention to carry
off Amabel to-night, notwithstanding old Rowley's injunctions to the
contrary, and I propose to accomplish my purpose in the following
manner. I will frighten her into flying with Leonard Holt, and will then
secretly follow her. Nizza Macascree is sure to accompany her, and will,
therefore, be in your power."
"I see!" cried Parravicin. "A capital project!"
"Pillichody has contrived to ingratiate himself with Blaize," pursued
the earl, "and through him the matter can be easily managed. The keys of
the stables, which are now intrusted to Chiffinch, shall be stolen--the
horses set free--and the two damsels caught in the trap prepared for
them, while the only person blamed in the matter will be Leonard."
"Bravo!" exclaimed Parravicin. "I am impatient for the scheme to be put
into execution."
"I will set about it at once," returned Rochester.
And separating from Parravicin, he formed some excuse for quitting the
royal presence.
About an hour afterwards, Pillichody sought out Blaize, and told him,
with a very mysterious air, that he had something to confide to him.
"You know my regard for the Earl of Rochester and Sir Paul Parravicin,"
he said, "and that I would do anything an honourable man ought to do to
assist them. But there are certain bounds which even friendship cannot
induce me to pass. They meditate the worst designs against Amabel and
Nizza Macascree, and intend to accomplish their base purpose before
daybreak. I therefore give you notice, that you may acquaint Leonard
Holt with the dangerous situation of the poor girls, and contrive their
escape in the early part of the night. I will steal the keys of the
stable for you from Chiffinch, and will render you every assistance in
my power. But if you are discovered, you must not betray me."
"Not for the world!" replied Blaize. "I am sure we are infinitely
obliged to you. It is a horrible design, and must be prevented. I wish
all this flying and escaping was over. I desire to be quiet, and am
quite sorry to leave this charming place."
"There is no alternative now," rejoined Pillichody.
"So it appears," groaned Blaize.
The substance of Pillichody's communication was immediately conveyed to
Leonard, who told Blaize to acquaint his informer that he should have
two pieces of gold, if he brought them the keys. To obtain them was not
very difficult, and the bully was aided in accomplishing the task by the
Earl of Rochester in the following manner. Chiffinch was an inordinate
drinker, and satisfied he could turn this failing to account, the earl
went into the ball where he was stationed, and after a little
conversation, called for a flask of wine. It was brought, and while they
were quaffing bumpers, Pillichody, who had entered unperceived,
contrived to open a table-drawer in which the keys were placed, and slip
them noiselessly into his doublet. He then stole away, and delivered his
prize to Blaize, receiving in return the promised reward, and chuckling
to himself at the success of his roguery. The keys were conveyed by the
porter to Leonard, and the latter handed them in his turn to John
Lutcombe, who engaged to have the horses at the lower end of the south
avenue an hour before midnight.
IX. KINGSTON LISLE.
About half-past ten, and when it was supposed that the king and his
courtiers had retired to rest (for early hours were kept in those days),
Mrs. Buscot and Leonard repaired to Amabel's chamber. The good
housekeeper noticed with great uneasiness that her niece looked
excessively pale and agitated, and she would have persuaded her to
abandon all idea of flight, if she had not feared that her stay might be
attended with still worse consequences.
Before the party set out, Mrs. Buscot crept down stairs to see that all
was safe, and returned almost instantly, with the very satisfactory
intelligence that Chiffinch was snoring in a chair in the hall, and that
the usher had probably retired to rest, as he was nowhere to be seen.
Not a moment, therefore, was to be lost, and they descended the great
staircase as noiselessly as possible. So far all had gone well; but on
gaining the hall, Amabel's strength completely deserted her, and if
Leonard had not caught her in his arms, she must have fallen. He was
hurrying forward with his burden towards a passage on the right, when
Chiffinch, who had been disturbed by the noise, suddenly started to his
feet, and commanded him to stop. At this moment, a figure enveloped in a
cloak darted from behind a door, and extinguishing the lamp which
Chiffinch had taken from the table, seized him with a powerful grasp.
All was now buried in darkness, and while Leonard Holt was hesitating
what to do, he heard a voice, which he knew to be that of Pillichody,
whisper in his ear, "Come with me--I will secure your retreat. Quick!
quick!"
Suffering himself to be drawn along, and closely followed by Nizza
Macascree and Mrs. Buscot, Leonard crossed the dining-chamber, not
without stumbling against some of the furniture by the way, and through
an open window into the court, where he found Blaize awaiting him.
Without waiting for thanks, Pillichody then disappeared, and Mrs.
Buscot, having pointed out the course he ought to pursue, bade him
farewell.
Hurrying across the court, he reached the south avenue, but had not
proceeded far when it became evident, from the lights at the windows, as
well as from the shouts and other noises proceeding from the court, that
their flight was discovered. Encumbered as he was by his lovely burden,
Leonard ran on so swiftly, that Nizza Macascree and Blaize could
scarcely keep up with him. They found John Lutcombe at the end of the
avenue with the horses, and mounting them, set off along the downs,
accompanied by the keeper, who acted as their guide. Striking off on the
right, they came to a spot covered over with immense grey stones,
resembling those rocky fragments used by the Druids in the construction
of a cromlech, and, as it was quite dark, it required some caution in
passing through them. Guided by the keeper, who here took hold of the
bridle of his horse, Leonard threaded the pass with safety; but Blaize
was not equally fortunate. Alarmed by the sounds in the rear, and not
attending to the keeper's caution, he urged his horse on, and the animal
coming in contact with a stone, stumbled, and precipitated him and Nizza
Macascree to the ground. Luckily, neither of them fell against the
stone, or the consequences might have been fatal. John Lutcombe
instantly flew to their aid, but before he reached them, Nizza Macascree
had regained her feet. Blaize, however, who was considerably shaken and
bruised by the fall, was not quite so expeditious, and his dilatoriness
so provoked the keeper, that, seizing him in his arms, he lifted him
into the saddle. Just as Nizza Macascree was placed on the pillion
behind him, the tramp of horses was heard rapidly approaching. In
another moment their pursuers came up, and the foremost, whose tones
proclaimed him the Earl of Rochester, commanded them to stop.
Inexpressibly alarmed, Amabel could not repress a scream, and guided by
the sound, the earl dashed to her side, and seized the bridle of her
steed.
A short struggle took place between him and Leonard, in which the hitter
strove to break away; but the earl, drawing his sword, held it to his
throat.
"Deliver up your mistress instantly," he cried, in a menacing tone, "or
you are a dead man."
Leonard returned a peremptory refusal.
"Hold!" exclaimed Amabel, springing from the horse; "I will not be the
cause of bloodshed. I implore you, my lord, to desist from this outrage.
You will gain nothing by it but my death."
"Let him touch you at his peril," cried John Lutcombe, rushing towards
them, and interposing his stalwart person between her and the earl.
"Stand aside, dog!" cried Rochester furiously, "or I will trample you
beneath my horse's hoofs."
"You must first get near me to do it," rejoined the keeper. And as he
spoke he struck the horse so violent a blow with a stout oaken cudgel
with which he was provided, that the animal became unmanageable, and
dashed across the downs to some distance with his rider.
Meanwhile, Parravicin having ridden up with Pillichody (for they proved
to be the earl's companions) assailed Blaize, and commanded him to
deliver up Nizza Macascree. Scared almost out of his senses, the porter
would have instantly complied, if the piper's daughter had not kept fast
hold of him, and reproaching him with his cowardice, screamed loudly for
help. Heedless of her cries, Parravicin seized her, and strove to drag
her from the horse; but she only clung the closer to Blaize, and the
other, expecting every moment to pay another visit to the ground, added
his vociferations for assistance to hers.
"Leave go your hold," he cried, to Pillichody, who had seized him on the
other side by the collar. "Leave go, I say, or you will rend my jerkin
asunder. What are you doing here? I thought you were to help us to
escape."
"So I have done," rejoined Pillichody, bursting into a loud laugh; "and
I am now helping to catch you again. What a blind buzzard you must be
not to perceive the net spread for you! Deliver up Nizza Macascree
without more ado, or, by all the fiends, I will pay you off for your
dastardly assault upon me this morning."
"I cannot deliver her up," cried Blaize; "she sticks to me as fast as a
burr. I shall be torn asunder between you. Help! help!"
Parravicin, having dismounted, now tore away Nizza Macascree, and was
just about to transfer her to his own steed, when John Lutcombe, having
driven away the earl in the manner before described, came to the rescue.
One blow from his cudgel stretched the knight on the sod, and liberated
Nizza Macascree, who instantly flew to her preserver. Finding how
matters stood, and that he was likely to be well backed, Blaize plucked
up his courage, and grappled with Pillichody. In the struggle they both
tumbled to the ground. The keeper rushed towards them, and seizing
Pillichody, began to belabour him soundly. In vain the bully implored
mercy. He underwent a severe chastisement, and Blaize added a few kicks
to the shower of blows proceeding from the keeper, crying, as he dealt
them, "Who is the buzzard now, I should like to know?"
By this time, Parravicin had regained his legs, and the Earl of
Rochester having forced back his steed, both drew their swords, and,
burning for vengeance, prepared to renew the charge. The affair might
have assumed a serious aspect, if it had not chanced that at this
juncture lights were seen hurrying along the avenue, and the next
moment, a large party issued from it.
"It is the king?" cried Rochester. "What is to be done?"
"Our prey must be abandoned," rejoined Parravicin; "it will never do to
be caught here."
With this he sprang upon his steed, and disappeared across the downs
with the earl.
John Lutcombe, on perceiving the approach of the torch-bearers,
instantly abandoned Pillichody, and assisting Blaize to the saddle,
placed Nizza behind him. Leonard, likewise, who had dismounted to
support Amabel, replaced her in the pillion, and in a few seconds the
party were in motion. Pillichody, who was the only person now left, did
not care to wait for the king's arrival, but snatching the bridle of his
steed, which was quietly grazing at a little distance, mounted him, and
galloped off in the direction which he fancied had been taken by the
earl and his companion.
Guided by the keeper, who ran beside them, the fugitives proceeded for a
couple of miles at a rapid pace over the downs, when, it not appearing
that they were followed, John Lutcombe halted for a moment to recover
breath. The fresh air had in some degree revived Amabel, and the
circumstance of their providential deliverance raised the spirits of the
whole party. Soon after this, they reached the ridge of the downs, the
magnificent view from which was completely hidden by the shades of
night, and, tracking the old Roman road for about a mile, descended the
steep hill in the direction of the Blowing Stone. Skirting a thick grove
of trees, they presently came to a gate, which the keeper opened, and
led them through an orchard towards what appeared to be in the gloom a
moderately-sized and comfortable habitation.
"The owner of this house, Mrs. Compton," observed John Lutcombe to
Amabel, "is a widow, and the kindest lady in Berkshire. A message has
been sent by your aunt to beg her to afford you an asylum for a few
days, and I will answer for it you will be hospitably received."
As he spoke, the loud barking of a dog was heard, and an old grey-headed
butler was seen advancing towards them with a lantern in his hand. At
the same time a groom issued from the stable on the right, accompanied
by the dog in question, and, hastening towards them, assisted them to
dismount. The dog seemed to recognise the keeper, and leaped upon him,
licked his hand, and exhibited other symptoms of delight.
"What, Ringwood," cried the keeper, patting his head, "dost thou know
thy old master again? I see you have taken good care of him, Sam," he
added to the groom. "I knew I was placing him into good hands when I
gave him to Mrs. Compton."
"Ay, ay, he can't find a better home, I fancy," said the groom.
"Will it please you to walk this way, ladies?" interposed the butler.
"My mistress has been expecting you for some time, and had become quite
uneasy about you." So saying, he led the way through a garden, filled
with the odours of a hundred unseen flowers, and ushered them into the
house.