"Lonesome the place is called," said Captain Ellesdon, pointing out

the solitary house, "and it well deserves its name, since there is not

another habitation within a mile of it. The farm is let, but the tenant

is an honest fellow, on whom I can rely. I will come there early on

Monday, and wait his majesty's arrival. I have likewise just bethought

me that Lyme fair occurs on Monday. Consequently, the town will be

thronged, and so will Charmouth. Rooms must, therefore, be engaged

beforehand at our little inn. Another point requires consideration.

His majesty and those with him will have to sit up till midnight, and

if they quit the house at that late hour, suspicion may be excited.

Some pretext, therefore, must be found to satisfy Dame Swan and her

servants."

"Very true," replied Colonel Wyndham, "I will send my servant, Harry

Peters, to Charmouth. He will invent some plausible tale that will

impose upon the hostess."

Their business at Lonesome being accomplished, the party rode across

the downs to Lyme Regis, and repaired to the George. Harry Peters was

at once despatched on his mission, and during the absence of the trusty

groom, Colonel Wyndham and Careless dined with Captain Ellesdon, at the

residence of the latter.

Concocting his scheme at he rode along, Harry Peters arrived at

Charmouth full of confidence, and alighting at the little inn, sent his

horse to the stable, and ordering a flask of sack, begged the pleasure

of Dame Swan's company for a few minutes in the parlour.

After a few preliminary observations, and the offer of a glass of wine,

which was graciously accepted by the hostess, he delicately approached

the business.

"I have a very great favour to ask of you, madam," he said, "but I am

inclined to think you will readily grant it, since the happiness of two

young persons depends upon your willingness to assist them. When I tell

you it is a love affair, I shall have said enough, I am convinced,

to awaken your tender sympathies. I must not mention names, but my

master has gained the affections of a very beautiful young gentlewoman.

Unluckily, her father refuses him her hand. Prayers have been in vain.

Cruel father, you will say! Such fathers, however, reap their own

reward, and are deceived like jealous husbands."

"Generally," observed the hostess, sipping her wine.

"You will not be surprised, therefore, madam, that the young

gentlewoman in question, justly provoked by such harsh treatment, has

yielded to her lover's prayers, and agreed to run away with him."

"In good sooth, I am not surprised at it, sir," remarked Dame Swan. "I

should have done just the same myself at her age, and under similar

circumstances."

"Say you so, madam! Then I have no hesitation in claiming your

assistance. On Monday next the elopement will take place. Promised a

refuge with you, the young couple will come here. That they may not be

interfered with, I am directed by my master to engage all the rooms in

the house."

"Stay! Lyme Fair is held on Monday, and we are always full on that day.

I dare not promise the rooms."

"But I will pay double for them, and make you a handsome present into

the bargain. It must be Monday. No other day will suit the young

gentlewoman."

"Well, I would not disappoint her for the world. You shall have the

rooms, and I will put off my other guests."

"I expected nothing less from you, madam. But you will not lose by

your good nature. You will make friends of the young people for life.

Another danger has to be guarded against. The lovers may be pursued,

and chance may bring the angry father here."

"Mercy on us! I hope not," exclaimed the hostess.

"Do not alarm yourself, madam. Such an untoward event is not likely

to occur; but every precaution ought to be taken. The young pair must

sit up during the night, and their horses be kept ready saddled and

bridled, so that they can be off at a moment's notice. You must be

pleased to give directions to your servants accordingly."

"You may depend upon me, sir," said Dame Swan. "All preparations shall

be made for the young couple. I take a particular interest in them, and

to insure their being properly attended to, I will sit up myself."

"I do not think that will be necessary, madam; but as you please. My

master begs your acceptance of half a dozen pistoles." And he slipped

them into her hand as he spoke.

"He acts like a gentleman--that is quite certain," said Dame Swan.

"And now for the rooms. Shall we say half a dozen pistoles more?"

"That will be most handsome payment."

"On an occasion of this kind one must behave handsomely," said Peters,

putting down the money. "My master is rich--at any rate, he will be so."

"I hope he has got an heiress," observed the hostess.

Peters said nothing, but winked significantly.

This concluded the arrangement.

Everything being settled in a manner entirely satisfactory to both

parties, the adroit emissary took leave of Dame Swan, and rode back as

quickly as he could to Lyme, being anxious to communicate the good news

to his master and the others.

On hearing his account of the affair, they laughed very heartily, and

complimented him on the skill he had displayed.

The party then went down to the Cobb to look at the _Eider Duck_, and

were very well satisfied with her appearance. At Captain Ellesdon's

earnest request our two Royalists agreed to pass the evening with him,

and did not return till next day to Trent.

CHAPTER XII.

HOW THE KING PLAYED AT HIDE-AND-SEEK AT TRENT.

While these preparations for his escape were so successfully made,

Charles had run considerable risk of capture.

On the evening of the second day he was alone in his chamber, occupied

with reflections, and wondering what Colonel Wyndham and Careless were

about, when Juliana entered suddenly, and with anxiety depicted on

her charming countenance informed him that the Reverend Hold-up-Hand

Meldrum had been questioning the women-servants about the new groom who

had lately arrived at the house.

"The inquisitive minister came to the kitchen door," she said, "and

stating that he knew the young man was in the house, desired to speak

with him. Both Eleanor Withers and Joan Halsenoth declared that the

groom was gone, but Mr. Meldrum affirmed the contrary, adding that he

suspected the young man was a malignant Cavalier in disguise, and was

certain he was hidden in the house, and as he would not come forth, he

would bring those who would find him. As the two women made no answer,

Mr. Meldrum departed, but they think he will make good his threat.

I believe so too, and I therefore advise your majesty to conceal

yourself, for of course you will not see him."

"Humph! I don't know that," observed Charles. "I am sure I could baffle

him."

But he changed his tone, when, shortly afterwards, Joan Halsenoth burst

into the room, with a terrified look, exclaiming:

"Mr. Meldrum is in the yard, and has got two troopers with him."

"Troopers! that looks serious!" cried the king. "Clearly, a strict

search will be made."

"Not a moment must be lost. Conceal yourself, I entreat you," cried

Juliana.

And as the king opened the secret door and disappeared, she and Joan

removed every article likely to betray his presence.

"Carry these to my chamber quickly, and hide them," continued Juliana.

"That done, bring down everything from my dressing-table, and we will

arrange them here, as if the room were mine."

Joan obeyed, and in another minute returned with hair-brushes, combs,

and other articles of the toilette, which were quickly placed as

Juliana had directed.

"Now go down-stairs and do thy best to dupe them," cried Juliana. "I

will remain here."

Left by herself, the young damsel stepped to one of the lattice windows

that looked upon the yard, and being partially open, it enabled her

to hear what was passing outside. She could not see the Reverend Mr.

Meldrum, but she heard his voice, and perceived the troopers, who stood

behind him.

The servants, it appeared, had locked the kitchen door, which was of

strong oak, studded with nails, and positively refused to unfasten it.

They were talking to him through a small barred window.

While Juliana was listening to what was going on, the secret door was

cautiously opened, and Charles peeped out.

"Are they gone?" he called out in a low voice, perceiving she was alone.

"No, no," she replied in the same tone. "Do not quit your hiding-place.

They are below, but the servants won't let them into the kitchen."

"That's a pity," cried Charles. "Most likely they would have stopped

there. Those rogues are fond of the kitchen."

"They have got in," said Juliana. "Mrs. Wyndham has unfastened the

door. She will give them plenty of ale."

For a few minutes all remained quiet, and Charles ventured out of his

hiding-place.

"I don't think they will disturb me," he said.

Just at the moment, however, Joan Halsenoth cautiously entered the room.

"Mr. Meldrum and his companions are coming up-stairs presently," she

said. "They have poked their noses into every hole and corner below,

and mean to search every room in the house. So you must prepare for

them."

And she disappeared.

Charles again retreated to his hiding-place, but paused before closing

the door.

"Can you not give me a signal," he said, "in case it should be

necessary for me to descend the secret staircase?"

"I can tap against the panel," she rejoined. "But you had better remove

the plank at once."

"I am not sure that I can find the plank," he rejoined.

"I will show you where it is," she cried, flying towards him. But she

stopped on hearing footsteps on the staircase.

"They are coming!" she exclaimed.

The secret door was instantly shut.

Next moment, the room door was thrown open, and Mrs. Wyndham entered,

accompanied by the Independent minister, and followed by the two

troopers.

"When I tell you that this is Mistress Juliana Coningsby's room,

perhaps a very slight inspection of it will satisfy you," said Mrs.

Wyndham to the minister.

"I am not so sure of that," he replied. "'Tis likely enough that the

malignant whom we seek may be concealed here."

"You have just been told that it is my room," cried Juliana, suddenly

turning round and facing him.

"That does not make it more unlikely," observed one of the troopers.

"Fair damsels have concealed their lovers before now."

"Hold thy peace, Hilkiah," said the minister, gravely. "Thou art come

hither to search for a malignant, and not to jest. Do thine office."

Thus rebuked, Hilkiah and his comrade examined the room most carefully,

their proceedings being anxiously watched by the two ladies, though

they strove to assume an air of indifference. Finding from the manner

in which the men were sounding the panels that the discovery of the

closet was inevitable, Mrs. Wyndham thought it better to anticipate it,

and, stepping forward, she opened the secret door.

It was an anxious moment for Juliana, but she perceived at a glance

that the king had found the movable plank, and used it. The secret

closet was empty. The minister gazed into it with a blank expression of

countenance.

"Pray examine the place carefully!" cried Mrs. Wyndham, in a taunting

tone. "Sound the walls, try the roof and floor--you will find nothing.

'Tis not a hiding-place, but a small room attached to the larger

chamber. A moment's inspection will convince you it has not been

occupied."

The closet was scarcely large enough to hold the minister and the

troopers, but they squeezed themselves into it nevertheless, and being

thus crowded they could not possibly examine the floor. But, indeed,

they had to think of their own deliverance. The secret door closed with

a spring, and unable to resist the impulse that prompted her to shut

them in, Juliana closed it. A loud laugh from the giddy girl told them

they were made prisoners. Mr. Meldrum did not relish the jest, but Mrs.

Wyndham and Juliana derided his anger.

The troopers tried to force open the door, but the bolt resisted

their efforts. Juliana positively refused to let them out unless they

engaged to leave the house at once, and to these conditions they were

eventually compelled to submit. On being liberated they all went away

looking extremely crestfallen.

Not till it was quite certain that the coast was clear did Juliana

venture to intimate to the king that he might come forth from his

hiding-place. He did not appear much discomposed, but treated the

matter very lightly.

"I have played so often at hide-and-seek of late," he said, "that I

feel certain of coming off the winner. But the game was never better

played than it has been just now."

"I am glad to hear your majesty say so," observed Juliana.

Careful watch was kept that night at Trent, and the king did not retire

to rest for fear of a surprise. However, nothing occurred, and in the

morning it was ascertained that the troopers had departed.

In the afternoon, Colonel Wyndham and Careless returned from their

expedition, and at once repaired to the king's chamber.

"All has been most satisfactorily arranged, sire," said the colonel.

"I will give you the details anon. The sum is this. A vessel has been

hired by Captain Ellesdon from a trusty shipmaster at Lyme, named

Limbry, and your majesty will embark for St. Malo on Monday next at

midnight. We have seen the vessel in Lyme port in which you are to

sail, and find her all that could be desired. It will be an additional

gratification, I am sure, to your majesty to learn that, on our way

back, we encountered Lord Wilmot. I invited him to Trent, but he did

not deem it prudent to accept the invitation, though he greatly desires

to see your majesty."

"Where is he?" cried Charles. "I will take him with me to St. Malo."

"I have ventured to anticipate your majesty's wishes in that respect,"

said Careless. "Feeling certain you would desire his company,

I promised him a passage, and appointed a place of meeting near

Charmouth, on Monday."

"You have done well," cried the king. "I shall be glad to have Wilmot

with me. Fortune, at length, seems disposed to favour me. In a few

days--nay, in a few hours--I shall be out of the reach of my enemies."

Colonel Wyndham then gave the king full details of the negotiation with

Limbry, and his majesty was very much amused by the relation. He was,

also, well pleased with the colonel's description of Captain Ellesdon.

The short interval between the king's departure was passed very

pleasantly by his majesty, and when the day arrived he could not help

feeling regret at leaving a place where he had been so happy. As

regards female society he could not have been better circumstanced.

Three more charming women, each in her way, than those with whom it had

been his good fortune to be associated, could scarcely have been found.

For Lady Wyndham, whose interest in him seemed quite maternal, he had

begun to feel an almost filial regard. The loyal old dame often spoke

to him of her three valiant sons who had fallen in his royal father's

cause, and said she accounted their deaths her highest honour.

"I can only replace one of them," said the king. "But you must look

upon me as a son."

Sunday was the last day on which it was supposed that his majesty would

stay at Trent, and it was spent very decorously. Religious service

was performed in the king's room by the Reverend Mr. Langton, and

all the company in the house, including Harry Peters and two of the

women-servants, were assembled at it. The circumstances gave a special

interest to the meeting, and those present on the occasion often called

it to mind. The good divine preached an eloquent and stirring discourse

that roused the feelings of all who listened to him. His text was taken

from Samuel: "_And Saul sought David every day; but God delivered him

not into his hands._" He spoke of the king's miraculous escapes from

the many and great dangers to which he had been exposed, and showed

that he could not thus have been preserved, if he had not been under

the care of a watchful Providence. "While the flood of rebellion has

covered the face of his kingdom," he said, "in this ark he has been

safely shut up, and here he will remain till his faithful servants

have time to work his deliverance. But that day is near at hand. The

malicious designs of his adversaries will be frustrated, and he will

be restored to his father's throne. Then shall we all say with the

Prophet: My Lord the king is come again in peace to his own house."

Charles was much moved by the good man's discourse, and thanked him for

it when the service was over.

"As I have just declared, sire," said Mr. Langton, "the hand of

Providence has been clearly manifested in your preservation hitherto,

and it will not desert you. Take comfort from the words of the Prophet,

for they are very applicable to you: 'Fear not, for the hand of Saul

shall not find thee, and thou shall be king over Israel.'"

CHAPTER XIII.

HOW CHARLES SET OUT FOR CHARMOUTH.

The day had arrived when it was hoped that his majesty's deliverance

would be accomplished.

After taking leave of Lady Wyndham and her daughter-in-law, Charles

mounted his horse, and Juliana, half-crazed with delight, seated

herself on the pillion behind him. Colonel Wyndham and Careless were

already in the saddle, and attended by the prayers of Mr. Langton, and

by the good wishes of all who witnessed their departure, the party

set out on their journey. Harry Peters had been sent off beforehand

privately, in the hope that the king might be mistaken for him by Mr.

Meldrum, should the minister be on the look-out; but the faithful groom

joined the party about a mile from the village, and subsequently acted

as guide, as they intended to take some cross roads.

Brilliant sunshine cheered them on their way, and brought out the

best features of the richly-wooded district through which they

journeyed--giving new splendour to the glorious autumnal tints of

the foliage, and revealing scenes of rare sylvan beauty. Nothing

could have been pleasanter than the ride. Sometimes involved in a

thick wood--sometimes pursuing their course on the banks of a clear

and beautiful stream--sometimes passing a village remarkable for a

noble old church--anon tracking a long valley, hemmed in by lofty

hills--now called upon to admire a fine old mansion, situated in the

midst of an extensive park--now skirting a lovely lake--anon compelled

to quit the valley, and climb a hill which seemed to bar further

progress, but which, when its summit was gained, offered a magnificent

prospect--through such varied scenes they proceeded pleasantly on their

way.

At first, they pursued the same road they had taken on the occasion

of the king's visit to Melbury Park, passing by the foot of Babylon

Hill, and tracking the valley of the Yeo; but they then struck off on

the right, and proceeded towards Berwick and Sutton Bingham. Avoiding

the latter village, they entered a thick wood, through which they

were guided by Harry Peters, and on emerging from it skirted Abbots

Hill, and crossing two other eminences, came upon a very picturesque

district, having a beautiful woody knoll on the right, and a succession

of wild holts on the left.

Leaving these woodlands, they passed through a gap in the hills,

and shortly afterwards descended into a richly-cultivated and

well-watered vale--their road leading them past numerous farm-houses,

each possessing a large orchard. Before them the two bold eminences,

Lewesdon Hill and Pillesdon Pen, reared their lofty heads, and seemed

to bar their further progress. Distinguishable far out at sea, and

forming excellent landmarks, these twin heights, from their resemblance

to each other, are called by sailors "the Cow and the Calf." Further

on the right was a third remarkable eminence, equally striking in

character, and known as Blackdown Hill.

The road taken by the party led them over Pillesdon Pen, and the view

from its summit of the towering hill was superb, comprehending the rich

vale they had just traversed, with its meadows, orchards, and farms,

and the beautiful combes and downs on either side. They then descended

into the valley, in which stood Pillesdon, the residence of Sir Hugh

Wyndham, the colonel's uncle, but they did not go near the mansion.

Shortly afterwards they mounted another lofty eminence, on the summit

of which was a large and very perfect British encampment, known as

Lambert's Castle. Hence a magnificent view of the sea was commanded.

Aware of what he might expect, Charles rode on in advance of his

companions, and when he had reached Lambert's Castle, and the grand

view burst upon him, he looked neither to the right nor to the left,

but at the sea.

Yes, there it was at last! There was the sea! Deliverance was at hand!

A few hours more, and he should be wafted across that broad expanse to

the friendly shore.

So enchanted was he by the sight that he gave vent to his rapture in a

joyous shout. Juliana was almost equally excited.

"By this time to-morrow your majesty will be safe in France," she cried.

"I must not be too confident. The wind is fair now--but it may change.

I have had so many disappointments, that I cannot feel quite secure."

"Nothing is certain, sire--at least, wise people say so. But it

seems to me that the chances are a thousand to one in favour of your

majesty's safe embarkation to-night, and therefore you may calculate

on arriving at St. Malo to-morrow. The sea itself seems to smile upon

you, and promise you a fair passage."

"Smiles are sometimes treacherous, and promises are often broken," said

Charles. "But I will gladly trust myself to those bright waves."

At this moment Colonel Wyndham and the others rode up.

"There is a sight to gladden your heart, sire," exclaimed the colonel.

"Ay, 'tis the pleasantest prospect I have beheld for many a day, Frank.

Yet my satisfaction at the hope of immediate escape is not unalloyed. I

go into exile. I leave my friends behind me."

"Your exile will not be long, sire," rejoined the colonel. "Your

friends will soon have you back again."

"Heaven alone can tell when I shall return--and how I shall return,"

rejoined the king. "But return I will."

"You will return to ascend the throne," said Juliana.

"I accept the prediction," said Charles. "Coming from such fair lips it

cannot be falsified."

Riding down the south side of the hill, they shaped their course

towards the solitary farm-house, appointed as a place of rendezvous by

Captain Ellesdon.

Being now on the open downs, they could no doubt be seen from a

distance, for a horseman was descried galloping towards them. At first,

the king thought it must be Captain Ellesdon, but as the horseman drew

nearer, his majesty easily recognised Lord Wilmot, who had appointed to

meet him at this place, and had been waiting for him for some time.

A very affectionate greeting took place between the king and his

friend, and the latter, after briefly recounting his adventures since

they separated, gave his majesty many particulars respecting his

devoted partisans. The intelligence that most deeply interested Charles

related to the Earl of Derby, who, it appeared, was now a prisoner in

Chester Castle, and had been condemned to lose his head. Lord Wilmot

himself had been in great danger, but had contrived to escape capture.

This conference lasted for some time, and the king had been so deeply

engrossed by Lord Wilmot's narration, that he quite forgot the presence

of Juliana, who had listened to the recital in terror.

When Lord Wilmot had finished his sad tidings, Charles remained for

some minutes lost in painful reflection, and during this time no one

ventured to disturb him. At length, a slight movement on the part of

Juliana recalled him to himself. Starting as if aroused from a painful

dream, he rode on towards the farm-house, which was only a mile distant.

Captain Ellesdon had been for some hours at the place of rendezvous,

and, made aware of the approach of the royal party, stationed himself

at the gate to receive the king.

CHAPTER XIV.

HOW THE KING AND JULIANA WERE RECEIVED BY DAME SWAN.

Lonesome was a substantial farm-house, with whitewashed walls and

a thatched roof, and being a dairy-farm, at which the best double

Dorset blue-mould cheeses were made, it had large cow-sheds and other

outbuildings attached to it, and its comfortable appearance was

heightened by a very extensive orchard, the trees of which were still

heavily laden with fruit.

Captain Ellesdon did not dare to make a reverence to his majesty on his

arrival, lest he should be noticed by the fanning men, who naturally

came forward to look at the party, and take charge of the horses, but

while assisting Juliana to alight, he had an opportunity of saying a

few words to the king, and later on, he had a private conference with

his majesty. Charles thanked him most warmly for the important service

he had rendered him--a service, he declared, that could not adequately

be rewarded--and to these gracious observations Captain Ellesdon made a

fitting response; adding, that he was most happy to inform his majesty

that everything was going on well. Not an hour ago, he had seen Limbry,

and had learnt that the _Eider Duck_ was already victualled, and out of

the Cobb, and would be quite ready to set sail at midnight, as soon as

the passengers were on board.

"The seamen have been given to understand," pursued Captain Ellesdon,

"that the reason why the passengers embark at Charmouth at such an

unseasonable hour, and not at Lyme, is, that they fear an arrest, their

factor at St. Malo having detained their goods, which they trust to

recover by appearing in person against him. With this explanation the

seamen are perfectly satisfied, and a few gold pieces on your majesty's

arrival at St. Malo will effectually seal their lips. As the wind is

fair, I think your majesty may calculate on a prosperous voyage. You

have no doubt been informed that a large fair is held in Lyme to-day.

Advantage has been taken of the meeting by the mayor of the town to

publicly read the Proclamation made by the Men of Westminster offering

a reward of a Thousand Pounds for the discovery of your majesty, with

the penalty of death against all who shall conceal you. I am rejoiced

to think that the _Eider Duck_ is out of port, so that the seamen will

not be likely to hear of the notice; and I am still better pleased to

find that our staunch shipmaster appears to care little about it. Your

majesty will be off before any mischief can be done. As it turns out,

it would have been quite impossible for you to embark at Lyme, since

Captain Macy has just arrived there with a regiment of horse, and his

men are spread about the town, and the inns and ale-houses are full

of them. I must also put your majesty on your guard against Reuben

Rufford, the ostler at the little inn at Charmouth. He is a Roundhead,

and a notorious knave, as I have discovered."

"I will observe all due caution in regard to the rascal," said the

king. "But as my stay at Charmouth will be so short, I do not think

there is much to fear from him."

Some further conversation then took place, at the close of which the

king reiterated his thanks to Captain Ellesdon, and presented him with

a piece of gold, through which a hole had been drilled, so that it

could be worn, bidding him keep it as an earnest of what he would do

for him hereafter, should better days arrive.

"Most assuredly those days will arrive, sire," said the captain; "but

I desire no greater reward for my services than that which I have now

received. I shall always wear this medal next my heart."

There being nothing to detain him longer at the farm-house, the king

now gave the word for departure, and all his attendants mounted their

horses. Captain Ellesdon rode by his majesty's side, and conducted him

to the summit of the steep hill that rises between Charmouth and Lyme;

pointing out the _Eider Duck_, lying off the mouth of the Cobb, as well

as the exact spot where it had been arranged that the long-boat should

fetch his majesty and his companions at midnight.

From this elevated point Lyme seemed immediately beneath them, and the

king could clearly perceive the crowd in the principal street, as well

as hear the shouts and other noises that arose from the fair. Amid the

throng he noticed that many red-coats were mingled. From the church

tower floated the flag of the Commonwealth.

Satisfied at last with the survey, Charles bade farewell to Captain

Ellesdon, and with his attendants rode down the left side of the

declivity to Charmouth, while the captain took his way on the right to

Lyme.

As they approached the little town, Charles asked Juliana if she was

quite prepared for the part she had to play, and received a laughing

response in the affirmative.

Harry Peters had ridden on beforehand, so that when the party arrived

at the little inn, the hostess, with the ostler and all the servants,

were at the door ready to receive them.

Luckily, most of the villagers were at Lyme fair, or there would have

been a little crowd collected to gaze at the strangers. So dazzled

was Dame Swan by Juliana's beauty, as she assisted the young lady to

alight, that she could look at no one else, but when she did bestow a

glance on the king she did not think him half handsome enough to be

the husband of such a charming creature.

Leading Juliana into a parlour, where a cold collation was laid out,

the good dame kissed her and wished her all happiness. They were

followed by Charles, who laughingly inquired if the hostess meant to

rob him of his intended bride.

"I won't rob you of her, sir," replied Dame Swan; "and I'll do my best

to prevent any one else from taking her from you. Ah! sir, you ought

to esteem yourself the luckiest man on earth to have obtained such a

treasure."

"Why, so I do, dame. But is she not the luckiest woman?"

"I'm sure I think myself so," said Juliana.

"I'm a very bad judge," remarked the hostess. "I often say to myself,

'It's very well we are not all of one mind. What suits one person

wouldn't suit another.'"

"It's very clear I don't suit your fancy, good dame," cried Charles,

laughing.

Here they were interrupted by the entrance of the rest of the party,

and they all on the king's invitation sat down to the repast--Juliana,

of course, being seated beside his majesty, and receiving particular

attentions from him.

Careless sat on the other side of the young damsel, who did not seem

displeased to have him near her, but chatted with him very gaily. And

the hostess subsequently remarked to Harry Peters, who had assisted her

to wait on the company:

"I shouldn't have been surprised if that lovely creature had run away

with the gallant-looking Cavalier on her right, and I almost think she

prefers him to the accepted suitor. It's not too late yet for her to

change her mind."

"Oh! yes, it is a great deal too late," rejoined Harry Peters. "Take

care you don't put such whims into her head."

"Not I, i'faith!" she rejoined. "But I'm pretty sure I'm right."

Later in the evening, the hostess was confirmed in her opinion when

Careless and Juliana walked out into the little garden at the back of

the house. She could not help listening to their conversation, and

heard the Cavalier say, in very tender accents, as it seemed to her:

"I must now bid you farewell! Fate seems resolved to separate us--but I

hope we shall meet again. I will not ask you to be constant to me."

"I should think not," mentally ejaculated Dame Swan, "seeing that she

is just about to be wedded to another."

"But I vow that I will be so," cried Juliana. "If a certain person,

whom we both detest, and who interferes with our happiness, should only

be removed, you will return at once, will you not?"

"There is very little chance of his removal, I fear," said Careless,

with a profound sigh. "His success has been too complete of late."

"But something unexpected may occur," said Juliana. "He may not be long

in our way."

"I hope not," said Careless. "But his present position appears secure."

"Still, I do not think he can long maintain it," said Juliana. "He must

fall soon."

"The announcement of his death will be my summons to return," said

Careless. "If some sure hand would only strike the blow."

"At a crisis like the present, when such great interests are at stake,

that hand is not likely to be wanting," said Juliana.

"Great heavens! She is planning the poor young man's destruction,

before she has married him," thought Dame Swan. "'Tis fortunate I have

overheard the dreadful design, and can therefore prevent it. Hist!

hist!" she cried.

Alarmed by the sound, Juliana came instantly into the house.

"I want to speak to you," said the hostess, taking her hand, and

drawing her into a small room which she called her own.

After closing the door, she said in a tone of great sympathy, "I find

you are very unhappily circumstanced."

"I do not understand you," interrupted Juliana.

"I have accidentally overheard what has passed between you and the

handsome young Cavalier in the garden, and I find that you greatly

prefer him to the swarthy-complexioned gentleman, to whom you have

promised your hand. You are very young, and feeling for you like a

mother, I cannot see you rush to destruction, without trying to prevent

it. Break off this foolish engagement at once--at once, I say--and

return to your father. Nay, if you hesitate, I will take you to him

myself. You must not--shall not--marry this man!"

"I do not mean to marry him," said Juliana.

"What is it you mean to do, in Heaven's name?" cried Dame Swan, with an

energy that alarmed the young damsel.

"I find I must trust you," she said. "I am sure you are perfectly

loyal."

"Loyal! yes! I should like to see the king on the throne, and his

enemies confounded. But what has my loyalty got to do with your

engagement?"

"Everything," replied Juliana, reassured by the good woman's words.

"The king is now beneath your roof. He is the person whom you have

been led to believe would be my husband; but the wretch of whom you

heard us speak in the garden is the accursed regicide Cromwell. Now you

understand it all?"

"I do, I do," cried Dame Swan.

"I won't trust you by halves," said Juliana. "The king is about

to embark at midnight for France. Major Careless, with whom I was

conversing in the garden, will sail with him."

"Oh! I hope they will soon return!" cried the hostess. "I hope you will

soon be wedded to the major! He is worthy of you. I am glad you have

told me this, though the information is so astounding, that it has

quite upset me. But I shall be right in a few minutes."

Now that this explanation had taken place with the hostess, Juliana

felt quite at ease with the good dame, and was very glad to spend the

rest of the evening with her in her room.

To Charles the hours seemed to pass very slowly, and he longed for

midnight, but he was in extremely good spirits, and all his attendants

exerted themselves to amuse him.

Every half-hour--indeed, more frequently--some one went out to

ascertain the state of the weather. The night was fine and starlight,

and a light breeze from the north-west was just what was desired.

Charmouth, as the reader is aware, is about half a mile from the shore,

but as an eminence intervenes the sea is not visible from the little

town.

These constant reports of the favourable state of the weather helped to

keep up the king's spirits. Missing Juliana, and deeming it necessary

to maintain his part as her intended husband, he went in search of her

and found her in the hostess's room. Dame Swan was with her at the

time, and the extreme deference now paid him by the hostess soon showed

him that she had been let into the secret.

Feeling, therefore, that further disguise was useless, he addressed

her in his own proper character, and quite enchanted her with his

affability.

"I was not aware of the great honour intended me, my liege," she said,

"or I would have made more fitting preparations for your reception."

"You have done quite enough, my good dame," said Charles. "In strict

fulfilment of your promise, you have kept your house free from guests

at a busy time, so that I have been perfectly private, and if I had

departed without making any disclosure to you, I should have desired

others to thank you in my name."

Quite overwhelmed by his majesty's condescension, the hostess could

make no reply.

"I must, also, compliment you on your discernment," pursued the

king, smiling. "You quickly perceived that I wanted some necessary

qualifications for the part I attempted to play, and that I was not

exactly the person with whom this charming young gentlewoman would

have made a runaway match. A great liberty has been taken with

her--excusable, only, under the circumstances--but you will understand

that her loyalty alone induced her to consent to the scheme."

"Yes, but I played my part so indifferently, that I do not deserve your

majesty's thanks," said Juliana.

"Nay, the fault was mine," rejoined the king. And he added in a low

voice, "I ought to have changed parts with Major Careless."

CHAPTER XV.

THE WATCHERS BY THE SEA.

By this time, most of the inhabitants of the little town who had been

at Lyme fair had returned, and a great number of them flocked to the

inn, and made so much disturbance, that the hostess was fain to serve

them, but she would not let them into the parlour, and after they had

emptied a few pots of cider--that being the liquor for which Charmouth

was renowned--they quietly departed.

Half an hour later, every house in the village--except the little inn,

was closed--and its inmates had apparently retired to rest, since not a

light could be seen in any of the windows.

To avoid any chance of danger to his majesty, it had been arranged that

Colonel Wyndham, attended by Harry Peters, should ride to the mouth of

the Char about an hour before midnight, and there await the long-boat.

On its arrival, Peters was to gallop back and give information to the

king, who would be prepared to start on the instant with his companions

for the place of rendezvous. The horses would be ready saddled, so that

no delay could occur.

Soon after eleven o'clock, the colonel, having received his majesty's

last commands, prepared to set out. Reuben Rufford, the ostler, brought

out the horses, and both the colonel and Harry Peters noticed that the

fellow appeared very inquisitive, and held up his lantern, so as to

throw its light on their faces. When they were gone, Reuben observed

to his mistress that he thought they could be about no good, but she

rebuked him sharply, and he went back to the stable.

Riding singly along the narrow green lane, already described as leading

to the sea-shore, Colonel Wyndham and Peters presently arrived at the

mouth of the Char.

The place was perfectly solitary. They had encountered no one in the

lane, and no one was to be seen on the beach. The only sound that could

be heard was that of the waves breaking on the sandy shore. It was

within half an hour of high water, and the tide was flowing rapidly.

The night was dark, but clear, and they looked out for the _Eider

Duck_, and fancied they could distinguish her in the offing, about a

mile out. A light could be seen at the head of Lyme Cobb, which looked

like a huge black ship moored to the shore. The dark sloping cliffs

were wrapped in gloom, but nothing was to be feared in that direction,

for the road along the beach was impassable in this state of the tide.

For some time the watchers remained with their gaze fixed upon the sea,

hoping to descry the boat, anxiously listening for the sound of oars.

They heard nothing except the wearisome and monotonous sound of the

waves.

Hitherto scarcely a word had passed between them, but now the colonel

could not help expressing astonishment that the boat did not make its

appearance.

"Have a little patience, sir," said Peters. "It will soon be here, I'll

warrant you. Stephen Limbry will not prove false."

"I think not," said the colonel. "Hark! 'tis the hour!"

As he spoke a distant bell struck twelve, so slowly that in the deep

stillness the strokes could be counted.

The appointed hour had come, but no boat came with it.

In vain the colonel and his servant strained their gaze towards the

spot where they supposed the boat was lying. No boat could be seen.

Sometimes they fancied they could descry it, but the delusive object,

whatever it might be, quickly vanished.

Another hour passed by, and found them at their post, still gazing at

the sea, still hoping the boat would come, vainly hoping, as it proved.

The tide had turned, but had not yet perceptibly receded.

Though staggered and uneasy, Colonel Wyndham had not lost faith in the

shipmaster.

"Should Limbry turn out a traitor, I will never trust man again," he

said.

"Perhaps the seamen have gone ashore to the fair, colonel, and he has

not been able to get them back again," rejoined Peters.

"The delay is unaccountable," cried the colonel. "His majesty will be

distracted."

"Shall I ride back, and inform him that no boat has yet come ashore?"

said Peters.

"That would make matters worse," rejoined the colonel. "Stay till you

can take him good news."

They waited for another hour, and for an hour after that,

patiently--striving to persuade themselves that the boat would still

come.

The tide having now retreated to a considerable distance, the colonel

rode upon the sand, and dashed into the water in his anxiety to discern

the object he so fruitlessly sought.

No boat met his gaze; and the sky having become clouded, the sea looked

dark and sullen. His own breast was full of sombre thoughts. The hopes

that had animated him a few hours ago were gone, and had given place to

bitter disappointment.

Still, though his hopes were crushed, he clung despairingly to his

post, nor would he quit it, or allow Peters to depart, till day broke.

When the first streaks of dawn fell upon the sea, he looked out for the

treacherous bark, and beheld her lying within half a mile of the Cobb.

She had not quitted her position since yesterday.

However, it was useless to tarry longer. Even if the boat were sent now

it would be impossible to embark in it at low water. Bidding Peters

follow him, and in a state of mind bordering on distraction, he rode

along the lane to Charmouth.

But how could he face the king?

CHAPTER XVI.

HOW THE GREY MARE PROVED THE BETTER HORSE.

Limbry was not altogether in fault, though appearances were against him.

Like many other men, he was under the governance of his spouse. And,

as we shall now proceed to show, it was owing to Dame Limbry that

the king's well-planned escape to France was frustrated. It may be

remembered that she had expressed to her daughter a resolution to

ascertain the nature of the important business on which Captain

Ellesdon and the two Cavaliers desired to see Limbry at the inn. But

she did not succeed. Strange to say, the shipmaster for once kept his

own counsel, and this unwonted reticence on his part only served to

inflame his wife's curiosity the more. Feeling his inequality in a

contest with such a determined woman, Limbry showed his discretion by

keeping out of her way as much as possible, and did not even acquaint

her with his intention to go to sea; but desirous to propitiate her, he

urged her to take her daughter to Lyme fair. As it turned out, he could

not have acted more injudiciously. While at the fair, Dame Limbry heard

the terrible Proclamation, and a suspicion immediately crossed her that

the two gentlemen she had seen were fugitive Cavaliers from Worcester.

The suspicion was converted into certainty, when about nine o'clock at

night, just after she and her daughter had returned from Lyme, Limbry,

who had been absent from home all day, came in, and instead of sitting

down like a good husband and father to chat with them, went up-stairs

at once to his own room, in order to pack up some linen.

While he was thus employed, his wife, who had followed him, entered

the room, closed the door, and putting on an injured expression of

countenance, which she knew so well how to assume, asked him, in a tone

that made him quake, what he was about.

"Surely, you are not going to sea to-night?"

"Yes I am," he replied, finding further concealment impossible. "My

landlord, Captain Ellesdon, has provided me with a freight which will

be worth infinitely more to me than if the _Eider Duck_ were laden with

goods. Distrusting your power of keeping a secret, I have hitherto kept

the matter from you, but now that there is no risk of your blabbing,

I may tell you that I am about to transport some passengers to St.

Malo, and on my return I shall receive a very handsome sum from Captain

Ellesdon for my pains."

But instead of appearing pleased, and congratulating him as he expected

on his good fortune, with a countenance inflamed with anger, his wife

screamed out:

"I knew it. I felt quite certain you were about to transport some

Royalists to France--perhaps the Malignant Prince himself. Foolish man!

do you know that the penalty is death? Do you know that you are liable

to be hanged for aiding the escape of traitors? This very morning I

heard the Proclamation published at Lyme by the mayor, offering a

reward of a thousand pounds for the capture of Charles Stuart, and

threatening, with the heaviest penalties--even death--those who may aid

the escape of his partisans. Now, I know that the men you have engaged

to carry over to France are Royalists, and, as a dutiful and loving

wife, I am bound to save you from the consequences of your folly. You

shall not throw away a life which, if not valuable to yourself, is

valuable to me and to my child. You shall NOT sail to France to-night!"

"How will you prevent me?" inquired her husband contemptuously. "Tell

me that."

"By locking you up in this chamber," she replied.

And before he could stop her, she slipped out of the room, and locked

the door on the outside.

"Now, get out if you can," she cried, derisively.

"Ten thousand furies!" cried Limbry, vainly trying to force open the

door. "Let me out at once, or you will rue it."

"'Tis you who will rue it, not me," she rejoined. "Unless you are

quiet, I will go at once to Lyme, and give information to Captain Macy

against both you and Captain Ellesdon."

"Zounds! woman!" he cried. "You don't mean to say you will commit such

folly?" Assuming a coaxing tone, he then added, "Hear me, sweetheart!

Open the door, and I'll bring you the handsomest present from St.

Malo--I swear I'll do it."

"I'm not to be cajoled," she replied, in accents that left him no doubt

of her fixed determination. "Keep quiet, or I will at once set off

for Lyme, and see Captain Macy, and then you know full well what will

follow."

"Was ever fair plan so absurdly defeated!" groaned the shipmaster. "If

I could only give information to the gentlemen; but that's impossible,

with this infernal woman at the door. Since there's no help for it, I

must submit."

And throwing himself, dressed as he was, on the bed, he gave utterance

to a few more groans, and fell asleep.

When he awoke, about five o'clock in the morning, the events of the

previous night rushed forcibly upon him, and his self-reproaches were

so keen, that he started from his bed, and rushed to the door.

Finding it still locked, he called out lustily for his wife. The

summons was quickly answered, for Dame Limbry had sat up all night, and

in reply to his demand to be released, she refused, unless he solemnly

promised to give up his intended voyage.

After some little demur, and another attempt at coaxing, which proved

unsuccessful, he assented, and gave the required promise, but he added

that he must go down to the seaside and inform the gentlemen who

were waiting for him, that he was unable to fulfil his engagement.

Thereupon, the door was opened, and Limbry prepared to set out at once.

Rather doubting his design, notwithstanding the solemn promise he had

just given, his vigilant spouse would not allow him to go alone, but

followed him closely with her daughter, and they were proceeding along

the narrow lane leading to the sea, when they met Colonel Wyndham

and his servant. The colonel could not fail to be struck by Limbry's

downcast looks, and he was also surprised to see him attended by the

two women. But he was too exasperated to heed their presence.

"Treacherous rascal!" he vociferated. "Art thou not ashamed to look

me in the face after breaking thy engagement to Captain Ellesdon and

myself? I have been waiting for the boat since midnight. How dost thou

attempt to justify thy scandalous conduct? ha!"

"I cannot justify it, sir," said Limbry. "I have been made a prisoner

in my own house."

"An idle story!" exclaimed Colonel Wyndham, incredulously.

"'Tis the truth," cried Dame Limbry, stepping forward. "I knew my

foolish husband was running his neck into a noose, so I locked him up

to save him. Don't tempt him to sail, or as sure as I'm a living woman,

I'll inform against you all."

"Be not afraid, woman, I've done with him," rejoined the colonel. "Take

care thy termagant spouse doesn't get thee into mischief," he added to

Limbry.

So saying he rode past them, and made his way towards the inn.

Arrived there, he despatched Peters to Lyme Regis to acquaint Captain

Ellesdon with the failure of the scheme, and ask his advice.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE REVEREND BARTHOLOMEW WESLEY.

On entering the house the colonel found Charles and his attendants in

a state of the greatest anxiety. His looks announced the ill-tidings

he brought; and it was scarcely necessary for him to relate what had

happened. The king bore the grievous disappointment better than might

have been expected, but he could not wholly repress his feelings of

vexation.

"If I had had to do with a man of mettle, master in his own house, as

well as master of his ship, I should have been half-way across the

English Channel by this time," he cried. "Fate thwarts me at every

turn; but I will not be cast down. We shall hear what Captain Ellesdon

says. Perhaps he may be able to find me another vessel."

"After what has occurred, I do not think it will be safe for your

majesty to remain here," said Colonel Wyndham. "Limbry's wife will

probably publish all she knows. Besides, I do not like the looks of the

ostler. The knave eyed me suspiciously as I gave him my horse just now,

and muttered something about my being out all night."

"Where would you have me go? What would you have me do?" cried Charles.

"Perhaps Captain Ellesdon may suggest some plan," said the colonel.

"We shall hear when Peters returns; but my notion is that your majesty

should ride on to Bridport. You may have better luck there than here."

"My horse has cast a shoe," said Lord Wilmot, rising to quit the room.

"If we are going to start immediately, I must send him to a smith."

So saying, he went out, and proceeding to the stable, gave the ostler

the necessary instructions. Like Colonel Wyndham, he was struck with

the man's inquisitive manner, and declined to have any conversation

with him.

"I can't make these folks out," thought Reuben. "There's the strangest

goings on with them I ever knew. 'Tis my belief they're a pack of

malignants trying to escape; but I'll soon find it out."

Thus ruminating, and considering what reward he should obtain for

giving information against his mistress's guests, he took Lord Wilmot's

horse to a blacksmith, named Seth Hammet, whose smithy was in the lower

part of the village. Bidding the smith good morrow, he told him he had

brought him a job.

Seth Hammet, who was a sharp-looking young man, thanked him, but being

of an inquisitive turn, he added, "You've got some gentlefolks at the

inn, I think?"

"Ay, ay," replied Reuben, not desiring to take him into his confidence.

"This horse belongs to one of them."

"A fine horse," observed Hammet, looking at him admiringly. "But they

all seem well mounted. Where do they come from?"

"I don't happen to know," replied Reuben, in a tone meant to signify

that he did not feel inclined to tell. "Somewhere in Devonshire, I

believe."

"Well, I can easily find out," observed Hammet, with a knowing look.

"I should like to know how?" rejoined Reuben, surprised.

"I'll show you presently," said the smith.

"If there's witchcraft in it, I won't have anything to do with it,"

said Reuben.

"Bless you! there's no witchcraft in it. 'Tis the simplest thing

possible, as you'll see. Two of your guests have been out all night."

"How do you know that?" asked Reuben.

"Because I saw them return, not half an hour ago. The servant rode on

to Lyme. I'm sure of it, for I heard his master tell him to go on to

Captain Ellesdon's house."

"Ah, indeed!" exclaimed the ostler, surprised.

"Yes, you didn't know that, Reuben," said the smith. "Now let us

proceed to business."

Thereupon, he took up the horse's feet, and examined the shoes, twice

over, very deliberately.

After the second examination, he said, with a grin:

"Now, Reuben, I can tell you something that will surprise you. This

horse has only three shoes on, as you know. Each shoe has been put on

in a different county--Somerset, Stafford, Worcester."

"Did you say Worcester?" cried Reuben.

"Look here," replied Hammet, lifting up one of the horse's fore-feet.

"That shoe came from Worcester. Now, don't you think I'm a conjurer?"

"I don't know what to think," replied Reuben.

But it seemed as if something had suddenly struck him, for he said

rather hastily, "I can't stay any longer. I want to see our minister,

Mr. Wesley; I'll come back for the horse presently."

So saying, he ran off to Mr. Wesley's dwelling, which was at no great

distance, but he found that the minister was at prayers with his

family, and knowing from experience that the reverend gentleman's

discourses were rather lengthy, he would not wait, but went on to the

inn.

During his absence Harry Peters, who had galloped there and back, had

returned from Lyme, and was now with the king. Peters had seen Captain

Ellesdon, who was quite confounded to hear of the failure of the plan,

having persuaded himself that his majesty was then on the way to St.

Malo.

"Never in my life have I seen a man so greatly troubled as the captain

appeared," said Peters. "He humbly tenders his advice to your majesty

not to make any longer stay in Charmouth. He would have ridden over to

offer his counsel in person, and urge your immediate departure, had it

been safe to do so. Rumours, he says, are sure to be bruited abroad,

which will infallibly lead to strict search and pursuit by Captain

Macy."

Captain Ellesdon's counsel so completely coincided with the opinion

previously expressed by Colonel Wyndham and his other adherents, that

the king determined to act upon it, and preparations were made for his

immediate departure. Juliana had retired to rest in a chamber provided

for her by Dame Swan, but she had been astir for some time, and was now

in the hostess's room, quite ready to start.

Dame Swan was with her, when a maid-servant entered and informed her

mistress that Reuben, the ostler, desired to speak with her, and she

went out to him.

Displeased by his manner and looks, Dame Swan said to him very sharply,

"Why are you not in the stable, Reuben, helping the young man to get

ready the horses? If you have aught to say to me, it can be said at a

more convenient opportunity, when the guests are gone."

"No, it cannot," replied the ostler. "No opportunity like the present.

Hear what I have to say, and be warned. I will not saddle or bridle

the horses--neither will I suffer your guests to depart. They are

malignants. I have proof of it."

"Fie upon you, Reuben!" cried his mistress. "You have been drinking

strong waters on an empty stomach, and your brain is confused."

"I have only drunk my customary pot of cider," he rejoined; "and my

brain is clear enough to convince me that Charles Stuart is now in this

house."

"What do I hear?" cried Dame Swan, putting the best face she could on

the matter. "Out on thee, for a false knave! Dost want to injure my

house by thy lies? There are none but gentlefolks here--men true to the

Commonwealth. Go to the stable at once, and bring round the horses, or

thou shalt quit my service."

"I do not design to remain in your service, misguided woman," he

rejoined; "and I warn you not to let these malignants depart. I am now

going to the Reverend Bartholomew Wesley, and will bring him back with

me."

"A fig for thy minister!" she rejoined.

But as soon as he was gone she flew to the parlour in which Charles and

the others were assembled, and informed them of the danger. On this,

the whole party hastened to the stable.

Fortunately, Harry Peters had got the horses ready, so that in another

minute they were all mounted--all, except Lord Wilmot, whose horse had

not been brought back. Careless accompanied his lordship to the smithy.

As Dame Swan assisted Juliana to take her seat on the pillion behind,

the king bade her adieu, and putting his arm round her neck, kissed her

heartily.

He then rode off with his attendants towards Bridport, Lord Wilmot and

Careless being left behind.

They had not been gone long, when a short, stout personage entered

the inn, and greeted the hostess, though in rather a singular manner.

He was arrayed in a black gown with Geneva bands, and a close-fitting

black velvet skull-cap, that set off his ruddy visage. This was the

Reverend Bartholomew Wesley, an ancestor we may remark of the renowned

John Wesley. His countenance had a strange sarcastic expression, though

he put on an air of mock respect.

"I scarce know how to approach you, Margaret, you are grown such a

mighty grand dame," he said, with an affected reverence.

"Eh day! what's the meaning of this foolery?" she cried.

"You must be a maid of honour, at least," pursued the minister. "Nay,

nay, you can't gainsay me. Charles Stuart slept at your house last

night, and kissed you when he went away. 'Twas a great honour, no

doubt--a very great honour--and you may well be proud."

"I should be proud, if I thought it was the king who had kissed me,"

she rejoined, sharply. "But the guests who slept in my house last night

were plain country gentlemen, and it's no business of yours to meddle

with them."

"Slept, quotha!" cried Wesley, lifting up his hands. "Why, not one of

the party has been a-bed except the young damsel, and two of them have

been out all night. You see I'm well informed, Margaret!"

"I know who has told you these shameful falsehoods--'tis that false,

mischief-making knave, Reuben Rufford."

"Reuben is an honest man, and of the right leaven. You will have to

render an account of your guests, dame."

"I tell you my guests were all strangers to me. How can I give an

account of them? They paid their lawful reckoning, and that's more than

everybody does. All you desire is to get me into trouble--but I'm not

afraid. Out of my house with you!"

"Woman! woman! listen to me!"

"No, I won't listen to you any longer. Out of my house, I say; or I'll

find some one to kick you out."

Not knowing to what extremities the indignant dame might resort, the

minister deemed it prudent to retreat, but he shook his clenched hand

at her as he went out.

On coming forth he was joined by Reuben, and they went down to the

smithy together. Seth Hammet told them that the gentleman had taken

away his horse not many minutes ago, whereupon they both upbraided him

for his want of zeal.

"Dolt! we should have captured the malignant, had you deprived him of

the means of flight," said Wesley.

"I did resist," rejoined Hammet; "but he had a friend with him, and

they forced me to deliver up the horse. However, I was right well paid

for the job, for one of them flung me a pistole."

"Which way did they go? To Bridport?" demanded the minister.

"I think so," replied Hammet. "They rode up Stonebarrow Hill, and

seemed to be making for Moorcomblake."

"They have fled, but they shall not escape," said Wesley. "We will

hie unto Mr. Butler of Commer. He is the nearest justice of peace,

and when he has heard our statement, he will despatch his warrants to

raise the country for the apprehension of the Malignant Prince, and

those traitors to the Commonwealth who were with him last night at Dame

Swan's hostelry."

Thereupon, they all set off for Mr. Butler's residence, which was at no

great distance from Charmouth, and on arriving there they were quickly

admitted to the presence of the justice.

Now Mr. Butler was secretly a Royalist, though he prudently concealed

his opinions, and on hearing Reuben Rufford's statement, he assumed a

very severe countenance, and said,

"I know your mistress, Dame Swan, to be a very honest woman, and I also

know you to be an arrant knave, having had several complaints made

against you. I attach not the slightest credence to your statement. I

do not believe that Charles Stuart is in this part of the country, and

I therefore refuse to issue a warrant for his apprehension."

Mr. Wesley made an effort to move him, but the justice continued

inflexible, and the applicants, who had made certain of success, left

in high dudgeon.

But they were determined not to be baffled, and at the minister's

instance, Reuben and Hammet set off at once for Lyme Regis, for the

purpose of laying the matter before Captain Macy.

"I shall be greatly surprised," said Wesley, "if the captain, who

is keen and clear-sighted, very different from this dull-witted,

prejudiced justice, does not immediately discern the truth."

They were not long in getting to Lyme Regis, and very soon found

Captain Macy--a fierce and zealous Republican soldier--who listened to

all they had to narrate with the utmost interest and attention.

As Mr. Wesley anticipated, he took a very different view of the case

from Justice Butler.

"You have done well in coming hither," he said; "and if the young man,

Charles Stuart, be captured, as with Heaven's grace he will be, ye

shall both be amply rewarded. I will start in pursuit of him at once,

Ye say that he and his attendants are gone towards Bridport."

"The person, whom I believe to be Charles Stuart, is gone in that

direction," said Reuben. "You will know him, inasmuch as he hath a fair

young damsel seated on a pillion behind him."

"Two of his companions took a different course," remarked Hammet. "But

no doubt they will rejoin him."

"Charles Stuart is the prize I aim at," cried Captain Macy. "Him will I

follow."

"Him will you assuredly capture, provided you loiter not by the way,

captain," said Reuben.

"'Tis not my custom to loiter," rejoined Captain Macy. "Thou shalt go

with me. I may need thee."

Not five minutes afterwards, he was riding at a rapid trot, at the

head of a dozen men, across the hard sands to Charmouth. Mounted on

a stout trooper's horse, Reuben rode beside him, and it was a great

satisfaction to the spiteful ostler, when the detachment was drawn up

before the little inn, and Dame Swan was summoned forth to speak to

Captain Macy.

The interrogation did not last many minutes, the captain stating that

he would question her further on his return. He was detained a little

longer by Mr. Wesley, who wished to have a few words with him, and

declared it to be his firm conviction that Charles Stuart had passed

the night at Dame Swan's hostel.

After this, Captain Macy gave the word, and the troop trotted off, in

the same order as before, on the road to Bridport.

"Heaven grant the king may escape them!" ejaculated the hostess as she

returned to her room. "I wonder I didn't sink to the ground when that

stern officer spoke to me. I trembled in every limb. This is all that

wicked Reuben's doing. I saw the villain with the troopers. May heaven

requite him!"

CHAPTER XVIII.

HOW THE KING FLED FROM BRIDPORT HARBOUR.

Unconscious of the danger by which he was threatened, and not fearing

pursuit, Charles soon slackened his pace, and rode slowly up the side

of Stonebarrow Hill towards Moorcomblake. From this elevated point an

extensive view over the Vale of Marshwood was obtained, while on the

right rose the beacon-crowned summit of the Golden Cap. Charles halted

for a short time to contemplate this fine prospect, still hoping that

his friends would overtake him; but they came not, and he went on.

By this time, he had shaken off his disappointment, and completely

recovered his spirits; conversing as gaily as usual with Juliana, and

seeming greatly to enjoy the ride.

A little beyond Moorcomblake they met a small band of travellers, and

among them was a person whom both his majesty and Colonel Wyndham

recognized as having been a servant of the late king. The sight of

this man caused them both considerable uneasiness, but he passed on,

apparently without noticing them.

After a long descent, they reached Chidiock, and crossing the valley,

mounted another hill, which offered charming prospects--a conspicuous

object being the singular cone-shaped eminence, known as Colmer's Hill.

Passing several farm-houses, with large orchards attached to them, they

approached the pleasant old town of Bridport, delightfully situated

among the hills; Colonel Wyndham rode on in advance, and entering the

town, to his infinite surprise and vexation, found it full of soldiers.

On inquiry, he ascertained that Colonel Haynes, an active Republican

commander, was marching troops from several garrisons to Weymouth and

other places, in order to embark them for Jersey and Guernsey, as those

loyal islands still continued to hold out against the Parliamentarians.

The troops now in the town were to be shipped in a few days from

Bridport harbour.

Charged with this unsatisfactory intelligence, he rode back to the

king, and besought him not to enter the town, which was swarming with

his enemies, but Charles refused to turn aside, saying he had promised

to wait for Colonel Wilmot and Careless at Bridport, and whatever the

consequences might be, he would keep his word. However, he at last

consented to proceed to the harbour, but ordered Peters to remain in

the town to look after the others. He then rode boldly on, closely

attended by Colonel Wyndham.

Round the town-hall was collected a large body of men in steel caps,

buff coats, and funnel-topped boots, armed with calivers, pistols, and

long basket-hilted swords. Most of them were smoking their pipes. They

scrutinised the travellers as they went by, but did not attempt to

molest them.

The sight of so many of his foes, who could have captured him in an

instant, did not appear to intimidate the king. Juliana's fair cheek

was blanched, but she showed no other signs of fear.

Thus they passed through the town without hindrance, and rode on to

the port, which was about a mile and a half distant. The little quay

was unusually bustling, there being two or three ships in the harbour

waiting to convey the troops to Jersey. The pier was a huge, clumsy

wooden structure, somewhat resembling Lyme Cobb. Not far from it was

the George Inn, and thither the travellers repaired, but they found

it full of soldiers; and when Juliana had alighted, and Charles was

taking his horse to the stable, he found himself completely environed

by troopers. Nothing daunted, however, he pushed his way through the

throng, calling out lustily "By your leave," and caring little if he

trod on their feet. Colonel Wyndham followed his example, and they both

found that with such men rough usage answered better than civility.

Some time elapsed before the slight repast they had ordered in a

private room was served, and they had just finished it, when Juliana,

who was looking from the window at the quay, perceived Harry Peters. He

promptly obeyed the sign she gave him, and coming up-stairs, informed

the king that he had been sent by Lord Wilmot to warn his majesty to

depart instantly.

"Captain Macy, with a troop of horse from Lyme Regis, is in pursuit

of you, my liege," said Peters. "They are now in Bridport, and are

searching all the inns, and are certain to come here."

"What is to be done?" cried Charles. "I am caught in a trap. My retreat

is cut off."

"Not so, my liege," replied Peters, confidently. "I will engage to

deliver you. Get out the horses without delay, and ride towards

Bridport."

"But by so doing I shall rush upon destruction," cried Charles.

"You will meet me before you meet the enemy, my liege," replied Peters.

"Well, I will follow thy advice, though it seems strangely hazardous,"

said Charles.

Peters then left the room and rode off. Hurrying to the stable, Charles

and Colonel Wyndham got out their steeds, and in less than ten minutes,

the king, with Juliana seated behind him on the pillion, and attended

by the colonel, was proceeding at a rapid pace towards Bridport.

When they were within half a mile of the town, they came to a road that

turned off on the right, and were debating whether to pursue it or go

on, when they heard the clatter of a horse's feet, and the next moment

beheld Peters galloping towards them. The faithful fellow signed to

them to turn off, and with such energy of action that they instantly

obeyed, but were surprised to find he did not follow them, but went

on at the same swift pace towards the harbour. His object, however,

was soon apparent. The heavy trampling of a troop of horse was heard,

mingled with the clank of swords, and the next moment a detachment of

cavalry dashed past, evidently in pursuit of the fugitive, who had thus

contrived to draw them on, putting his own life in jeopardy to preserve

the king. Though Charles himself was concealed by a turn of the road,

he clearly distinguished the troopers, and felt sure that their leader

was Captain Macy.

Scarcely knowing which way to proceed, but fearing to pass through

Bridport, lest they should be stopped, they rode on to a pretty

little village called Bothenhampton, and there inquired the road to

Dorchester. The person to whom the king addressed this inquiry, stared,

and told him he must go back through Bridport, but Charles declined,

and they rode on to Shipton Gorge, above which was a remarkable hill

shaped like a ship turned keel upwards, with a beacon on the summit,

and were directed to proceed to Hammerdon Hill, and this course they

took.

Having crossed a high range of furze-covered downs, and traversed

a broad common, they were approaching Winterborne Abbas, when they

descried their pursuers coming down the hill they had just descended.

Captain Macy, no doubt, had heard of the inquiries made by the king as

to the road to Dorchester, and had followed in that direction.

Fortunately, a coppice was at hand, and the fugitives managed to

conceal themselves within it, till their pursuers had passed. So near

were the troopers that the king could hear their shouts, announcing

that they felt certain of finding him at Dorchester. After this,

Charles required little persuasion to induce him to take a different

course, though he could not make up his mind altogether to quit the

coast.

Having gained the Roman road which once led to Dorchester, they

proceeded along it in the opposite direction, towards a fine down known

as Eggardon Hill, the summit of which was crowned by an ancient camp,

with very remarkable intrenchments. Thence they proceeded through the

downs and along the beautiful valley of the Birt towards Beaminster.

Some seven years previously, Beaminster was a flourishing and cheerful

little town, but it now looked like a collection of ruins, having

nearly been burnt down in 1644, during the Civil War, and it had only

been partially rebuilt. Charles was so struck by the melancholy aspect

of the place that he would not halt there as he intended, but proceeded

to Broad Windsor, which was about three miles distant.

On the road thither, they descried three persons on horseback on the

summit of a high conical hill, called Chartknolle. Evidently, these

persons had stationed themselves on this conspicuous position in order

to survey the country round. Juliana declared they were their friends,

but the king and Colonel Wyndham scarcely dared indulge the hope.

The question, however, was speedily set at rest. Dashing down the side

of the hill at a headlong pace came Harry Peters, and he was followed,

somewhat more leisurely, by Lord Wilmot and Careless.

It was a joyous meeting, and a few minutes were occupied in mutual

congratulations and explanations. Harry Peters, it appeared, had

escaped by swimming his horse across the Brit, his pursuers not daring

to follow him. He then made his way to Eype, where he encountered Lord

Wilmot and Careless, who had galloped thither from Bridport.

At this point Lord Wilmot took up the story:

"Feeling it would be impossible to render your majesty any service

at the time," said his lordship, "after a brief consultation, we

determined to proceed to Trent, as we could not doubt that you would

soon find your way thither. So we rode on to Netherbury and Stoke

Abbots. By Careless's advice, we then mounted this hill in order to

survey the country, and right glad I am that we did so."

"No post could have been better chosen," said Charles. "Had you been

long on the hill top?"

"More than an hour," replied Wilmot. "I confess I thought it useless to

remain so long, but Careless judged better, and was loth to depart."

"I had a firm conviction that I should discover your majesty," said

Careless. "I saw you when you left Beaminster, and I felt certain it

was your majesty from the fair damsel who rides behind you."

"The fair damsel has as quick eyes as you have, and instantly detected

you," said the king. "I am right glad we have met. That I myself have

escaped is entirely owing to thee, my faithful fellow," he added to

Harry Peters. "Hadst thou fallen into the hands of the enemy I should

have been truly grieved."

"Heaven be thanked I am still able and ready to serve your majesty,"

rejoined Peters.

CHAPTER XIX.

BROAD WINDSOR.

The king and his companions then rode on to Broad Windsor, and

proceeded to the George, the only inn the place contained. Rice Jones

was the name of the host, and he and his wife were well known to

Colonel Wyndham, having been servants to his uncle, Sir Hugh Wyndham,

of Pillesden. Charles was so well pleased with their manner, and with

the comfortable appearance of the inn, that he resolved to pass the

night there, and bade the colonel secure all the best rooms in the

house, which was done. All the party, indeed, were so wearied that

they were enchanted at the prospect of a good night's rest, but they

did not obtain it, for late in the evening a troop of horse, which was

marching to Lyme Regis, arrived in the town, and demanded quarters

at the George. Poor Rice Jones humbly represented to them that all

the rooms were engaged, but this did not satisfy the troopers. They

insisted on being accommodated, and when Jones protested it was quite

out of his power to oblige them, they took complete possession of the

lower part of the house, and made such a disturbance that the occupants

of the rooms above could not obtain a wink of slumber. The noise was

bad enough, but Charles and the others were not without apprehensions

that the officer in command of the troop might compel them to appear

before him. This danger, however, they escaped, owing to the management

of Rice Jones and his wife, who answered for them.

At daybreak, however, the reveillé was sounded, the troopers got upon

their horses, and rode out of the town, and the inn was left quiet.

Before his departure, however, the officer made some further inquiries

of Rice Jones as to his guests, and wished to know whither they were

going, but this the host could not inform him.

As it was quite certain that when the troopers arrived at Lyme Regis,

they must learn that Macy had been in pursuit of the fugitive king,

it would have been in the highest degree imprudent for his majesty and

those with him to remain longer at Broad Windsor, and preparations were

therefore made for immediate departure.

During breakfast, a consultation took place as to the best course to be

pursued in the present state of affairs. Colonel Wyndham was clearly

of opinion that it would be extremely hazardous for his majesty to

attempt to embark from any part in Dorsetshire, so many forces being

now drawn to the coast for the expedition to Jersey, and he besought

him to return to Trent, and to remain there till some other plan could

be devised for his escape.

"Pillesden, the residence of my uncle, Sir Hugh Wyndham, is close at

hand," continued the colonel; "and I would propose to your majesty

to retreat there for a time, but I feel certain, after the recent

occurrences, that the house will be strictly searched, and you might

unhappily be discovered."

"No, I will not go to Pillesden," said Charles. "I do not doubt the

security of Sir Hugh Wyndham's house, but I would rather be with thee,

Frank. I will return to Trent, and Careless shall attend me as before."

"I am glad your majesty has so decided," said the colonel. "If I may

further advise I would propose that Harry Peters shall conduct Lord

Wilmot to the house of my friend, John Coventry, in Salisbury. He

resides in the Cathedral Close; and Dr. Hinchman, one of the former

prebends, lives with him. No man in the kingdom is more devoted to the

royal cause than John Coventry, and he will not only be well able to

advise how to procure a vessel for France, but will furnish any moneys

that may be required."

"I like the plan," said Lord Wilmot. "When I have seen Mr. Coventry

and consulted with him, I will send back Peters to Trent with all

particulars. If I am obliged to write, my letter shall be rolled up

like a bullet so that the messenger may swallow it, in case of need."

Here the conference ended. Soon afterwards the horses were brought

round, and they set off--Rice Jones promising, if Captain Macy should

come to the inn, that he would give him a wrong direction.

The whole party rode together to within a few miles of Yeovil, where

they separated--Lord Wilmot, attended by Harry Peters, proceeding to

Sherborne, on the way to Salisbury; while the king and his companions

went on to Trent, and arrived there in perfect safety.

CHAPTER XX.

COLONEL ROBIN PHILIPS, OF MONTACUTE HOUSE.

Nothing could be more agreeable to Charles, after the great fatigue he

had undergone, than the repose he was able to enjoy for the next few

days. But he then began to find his confinement irksome, despite the

attentions shown him by Lady Wyndham and her daughter-in-law, and the

agreeable companionship of the fair Juliana Coningsby. Harry Peters had

not yet returned from Salisbury, and the king could not help fearing

that Lord Wilmot had failed in obtaining Mr. Coventry's assistance.

Action, even attended by risk, suited Charles infinitely better than

quietude, and he longed for something to do. Mr. Langton sat with him

for several hours in each day, but he found the worthy man's discourses

intolerably tedious, and declared to Careless that he was becoming

moped to death.

Careless, on the contrary, found his stay at Trent far from

disagreeable, and had no particular desire to incur fresh perils. Quite

content to wait till a good chance of escape to France should offer, he

saw difficulties in every plan that was suggested. He was so happy in

the society of Juliana Coningsby, that he quite dreaded a separation

from her.

One day, when the young pair were strolling together in the garden,

Mrs. Wyndham came forth to inform them that Harry Peters had just

returned from Salisbury, accompanied by Colonel Robin Philips.

Upon this Careless hastened to the yard, and found Colonel Wyndham

conversing with a tall, strongly-built man of soldier-like aspect and

bearing. This was Colonel Robin Philips, of Montacute House, grandson

of Sir Edward Philips, formerly Master of the Rolls. Though not

handsome the colonel had a manly, expressive countenance. Harry Peters

was leading the horses to the stable, but stopped for a moment to

salute Careless, who was then introduced to Colonel Philips, with whom

he shook hands heartily.

At this juncture, a lattice window, looking upon the yard, was opened,

and a voice called out:

"Robin! Robin! come up to me instantly."

"'Tis the king!" cried Colonel Philips.

And he instantly doffed his broad-leaved feathered hat, and

respectfully saluted Charles, whom he perceived at the window.

"Come up to me instantly, Robin," vociferated the king. "I am all

impatience to talk to thee. Come with him!" he added to the others.

Thus summoned they all repaired to the king's chamber. Charles embraced

Colonel Philips as he entered, and clapped him warmly on the shoulder.

"I am the better pleased to see thee, Robin, because I did not expect

thee," he said. "How didst thou learn I was here?"

"From John Coventry, my liege," replied Colonel Philips. "I have of

late been in Salisbury, and on Lord Wilmot's arrival Mr. Coventry

sent for me, knowing my anxious desire to serve your majesty, and

after conferring with him, I immediately proceeded to Southampton, and

succeeded in hiring a ship."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Charles, joyfully.

"Pardon me, sire, I have raised your expectations too highly. Soon

after I had concluded an arrangement with the skipper, the vessel I had

hired was pressed to transport troops to Jersey."

"Then you have failed?" cried Charles.

"So far, my liege. But I do not regret the failure, for I have since

discovered that all vessels from Southampton are now stopped at

Calshot Castle, and again at Hurst Castle, and the passengers strictly

examined, so that the risk to your majesty would have been very great."

"Discovery would have been almost certain," observed Colonel Wyndham.

"'Twill be best that your majesty should embark from some small port on

the Sussex coast, where the vessels are not watched."

"Exactly my opinion," said Colonel Philips. "With the assistance

of my friend Colonel George Gunter, of Rackton, near Chichester, I

feel confident I shall be able to hire a vessel at Little Hampton or

Shoreham. Before taking this step, however, I deemed it necessary to

consult your majesty, and have come hither for that purpose."

"Colonel Gunter, of course, can be relied upon, or you would not

propose him," observed Charles.

"He is thoroughly loyal, exceedingly active, and will spare no pains,"

said Colonel Philips.

"From my own personal knowledge, my liege, I can confirm this

description of George Gunter," added Careless. "Your majesty may depend

upon his fidelity."

"Then I place myself in his hands. Make any arrangement with him you

please."

"Since your majesty approves the plan, I will set out for Rackton

forthwith."

"Nay, thou shalt not depart to-day, Robin," cried the king. "To-morrow

will be quite time enough. I must have some further talk with thee. The

sight of thy honest face cheers me. Thou shalt lodge in my room."

"Nay, your majesty shall not be put to inconvenience. I can find him a

room," remarked Colonel Wyndham.

It was then arranged that Colonel Philips should remain at Trent till

the following day. His company was a great pleasure to the king,

and helped to dissipate the ennui under which his majesty had been

labouring of late. They had some further discussion as to the proposed

embarkation from the Sussex coast, and the more he considered the plan

the better the king liked it.

That night, Charles supped with the family party in the dining-room,

Colonel Philips, of course, being present, and the improvement

in his majesty's spirits was noticed by all the ladies. Supper

was just over when Harry Peters rushed into the room, with a very

anxious countenance, and said that Mr. Meldrum and some of the

villagers--notorious fanatics--were coming to search the house

immediately. They had witnessed Colonel Philips's arrival, and felt

certain he was the king--the report, of his majesty's death at

Worcester having been authoritatively contradicted.

On this alarming intelligence, Charles immediately hurried up-stairs

to conceal himself in the secret closet, while Colonel Philips and

Careless followed more leisurely, and sat down in the king's room. The

searchers were not long in making their appearance, and Mr. Meldrum

demanded that Charles Stuart should be delivered up to them.

Colonel Wyndham answered them courteously.

"You shall see the gentleman who arrived here to-day, and judge for

yourselves whether he is Charles Stuart."

With this, he conducted them to the room up-stairs. It was illumined by

a lamp, which showed them the two gentlemen seated near a table. Both

arose on the entrance of the party, and saluted Mr. Meldrum.

"You have seen me before, I doubt not, reverend sir," observed

Careless, respectfully; "because I regularly attend your church, and

have profited much by your discourses."

"Truly, I have seen you, sir," replied the minister, "and have been

much pleased by your devout manner and attention. I have, also, been

well pleased to find that Mistress Juliana Coningsby has become a

convert--peradventure, on your persuasion. I begin to think we are

mistaken," he added to those with him. "This is a person of middle age,

whereas Charles Stuart, as ye wot, is designated the Young Man."

"This gentleman is Captain Copthorne," said Careless, "a staunch

Republican and a Puritan."

"That is how I should describe myself, if called upon," said the

so-called Captain Copthorne, with a courteous bow. "I am neither a

fugitive prince, nor a malignant."

"The assurance is sufficient, captain," rejoined the minister. "We have

been labouring under a grievous error," he added to the zealots with

him, "and have no further business here."

As he turned to depart, he perceived Juliana standing at the back, and

said to her in a low tone:

"Ere long, I hope I may have the happy privilege of uniting you to one

who deserves you."

Juliana blushed deeply. Without waiting for a reply, Mr. Meldrum and

his company went down-stairs, and were shown out of the house by Harry

Peters. When the details of the incident were related to the king, they

caused him a good deal of amusement.

Promising to return to Trent as soon as any arrangement had been made,

through the instrumentality of Colonel Gunter, for the hire of a

vessel, Colonel Philips, next morning, took leave of his majesty, and

set out for Chichester, attended by the faithful Harry Peters.

CHAPTER XXI.

HOW THE KING LEFT TRENT.

A week elapsed, and Colonel Philips had not returned, nor had any

tidings been received from him. The king's life differed very little

from that of a prisoner who enjoyed certain privileges, and whose

friends were permitted to visit him. However, he no longer felt

impatient, because he knew that every effort was being made for his

deliverance. He did not read much, though Colonel Wyndham possessed

a good library, which might have proved a great resource to him, had

he been of a studious turn, but he occupied himself in various ways,

and not unfrequently cooked his own dinner. In this self-imposed

task he was assisted by Careless, and they flattered themselves they

achieved great success in their little dinners. It is quite certain,

however, that these repasts would not have been half so good as they

were, if the chief part of the work had not been done in the kitchen.

Mr. Langton used generally to dine with them, and thought the repasts

inimitable; but then, perhaps, he was no judge. No more troopers

appeared, for ever since Juliana's conversion, Mr. Meldrum had thrown a

protecting wing over the house. The inmates were no more disturbed by

fanatical and inquisitive villagers.

Such was pretty nearly the daily routine at Trent during Charles's

enforced sojourn there. That it was enforced will account for his not

being entirely happy.

At length the welcome summons came. Altogether, Charles had been a

fortnight at Trent, when late in the evening of the 5th of October,

Colonel Philips, accompanied by Harry Peters, returned from his

mission. He had been at Rackton, and had consulted with Colonel

Gunter, who expressed the most earnest desire to serve his majesty, and

had used his best endeavours to hire a vessel at Little Hampton, but

had failed, after spending some days in fruitless negotiation. He and

Colonel Philips had since proceeded to Shoreham, and had seen a certain

Captain Nicholas Tattersall--a very honest fellow, and an undoubted

Royalist, though passing for a Roundhead--with whom there seemed every

prospect of coming to terms.

"I left Colonel Gunter at Brightelmstone, in Sussex, my liege," pursued

Philips, "which is only a few miles from Shoreham, and he will remain

there till he has concluded an arrangement with Tattersall. When the

affair is settled as satisfactorily as I believe it will be, he will

come to Heale House, near Salisbury, and I have ventured to promise

that he will find your majesty and Lord Wilmot there. Heale House,

which is a very retired place, is the residence of Mrs. Hyde, a widow

gentlewoman, and as faithful to the royal cause as loyalty can make

her. The house is large, and the widow keeps up a good establishment,

so that she can accommodate any number of guests. I have known

Mrs. Hyde intimately for many years, and do not know a better or

kinder-hearted woman--or one more hospitable. She will consider it a

duty, as it will be her pride and pleasure, to place her house at your

majesty's disposal--so you need have no hesitation in going thither."

"I shall put Mrs. Hyde's hospitality pretty severely to the test, for

we shall form a large party," observed Charles.

"She will be delighted to receive your majesty and all your retinue,"

said Colonel Philips.

Arrangements were then made that Charles should set out for Heale on

the following morning, accompanied by all those who had attended him

on his expedition to Charmouth. Before his departure he took a kindly

leave of Mrs. Wyndham and Lady Wyndham, thanking them warmly for their

attention to him, and showing the utmost respect to the old lady. From

Mr. Langton he received a blessing. Nor did he neglect to thank the

servants who had contributed so materially to his comfort.

Having bidden a grateful farewell to all, he mounted his horse, and

Juliana, who was delighted with the idea of another expedition, took

her accustomed seat on the pillion behind him. Besides the king and his

fair companion, the party included Colonel Wyndham and Careless, and

their new ally, Colonel Philips, and they were followed by the faithful

Harry Peters. While passing through the gate Charles looked back,

and saw old Lady Wyndham, with her daughter-in-law and Mr. Langton,

standing at the door gazing after him, and waved his hand to them. He

also noticed a group of women-servants collected near the entrance to

the kitchen.

By starting at an early hour, Colonel Wyndham hoped to escape

observation, but he was disappointed. Mr. Meldrum was watching them

from the churchyard, and seemed astonished at the number of the party.

Thinking to remove his suspicions, Careless stopped to say a few words

to him, and told him they were going to Weymouth. But the minister had

some doubts, and being struck by Charles's appearance, he got some of

the villagers to follow the party.

Meantime, the king and his retinue proceeded slowly through the

village, as if they had no desire for concealment. In another minute

the house was hidden from view by the tall elm-trees, and Charles saw

no more of it.

Their road led over the heights of Rowbarrow to Sandford Orcas. They

then climbed a steep hill, and were crossing Horethorne Down, when they

heard shouts behind them, and saw that they were followed by a band of

peasants mounted on ragged steeds.

Among this troop Colonel Wyndham at once recognised certain fanatical

villagers from Trent, who had made themselves prominent on recent

occasions, and his first impulse was to wait for their coming up, and

chastise them, but on second thoughts he deemed it prudent to send

Harry Peters to confer with them, while he and the others rode on.

This was done, and the party had not reached the little village of

Charleton Horethorne, when Harry Peters galloped back, and told them,

with a laugh, that he had managed to get rid of the enemy. By what

device he accomplished this he did not explain, nor did the colonel

inquire.

It was a fine bright October day, and the autumnal tints of the foliage

were glorious. Skirting Charleton Hill, they passed North Cheriton,

and proceeded through a wide and fertile valley on the picturesque

banks of the little river Cale, to Wincanton, but they did not halt at

this picturesque old town, their purpose being to dine at the George,

at Mere, in Wiltshire--Dick Cheverel, the landlord of that excellent

hostel, being well known to Colonel Philips as a perfectly honest

fellow and a Royalist. There they knew they would be well entertained

and run no risk.

CHAPTER XXII.

HOW THEY DINED AT THE GEORGE AT MERE; AND HOW THE HOST RELATED HIS

DREAM.

On arriving at Mere, they alighted at the George, which turned out

quite as comfortable as it had been represented. Dick Cheverel, the

host, a stout, good-humoured personage, sat at the head of the table,

chatting with them very cheerfully.

The king took a place near the bottom of the table, but Juliana sat

beside the host, who was very attentive to her. During a pause, Colonel

Wyndham inquired of Cheverel if he had any news?

"Little that I care to relate," replied Dick. "Since the disaster at

Worcester, I have heard nothing that gives me satisfaction. Fifteen

hundred men have been shipped to Jersey and Guernsey to subjugate those

faithful islands, but I am told that the men of Westminster are in

great perplexity, for they cannot conceive what has become of the king.

"Most likely his majesty is in London and in disguise," remarked

Colonel Philips.

"That is the general opinion, but it is not mine," said Dick. "Several

houses, I understand, have been searched; but the searchers were not

likely to find him."

"Why do you feel so confident on the point?" asked Juliana.

"Because I firmly believe he is in France," replied Dick. "At the very

moment we are now talking of him, I am persuaded he is at the great

palace of the Louvre, seated between his mother, Henrietta Maria, Queen

of England, and his royal brother the Duke of York."

"Would to heaven it were true!" exclaimed Juliana.

"It must be true, for I have dreamed it thrice," said Dick.

"Is that all your authority?" cried Juliana, smiling.

"What better authority would you have, fair mistress?" he rejoined.

"I'll tell you a singular thing. A rebel officer who fought at

Worcester came to the George the day before yesterday, and said to

me, 'I've had a remarkable dream, landlord, and it quite haunts me.

I've dreamt that Charles Stuart is concealed in a house at Trent, in

Somerset. I should know the house,' he continued, 'for it has a great

patch of trees near it.'"

"That was very odd!" exclaimed Juliana.

"So I told him, and the idiot might have gone to Trent, if I had

not recounted my thrice-repeated dream to him. When he had heard my

relation he gave up all intention of searching for the king."

Everybody laughed, but the host maintained a grave face.

"You are a sly fellow, Dick," exclaimed Colonel Wyndham.

When his services were no longer required at the upper end of the

table, the host came and sat down by the king. Filling a couple of

glasses to the brim with sack, he said:

"Are you a friend to Cæsar?"

"Ay, that I am," replied Charles. "As much Cæsar's friend as thou art."

"Then here's a health to King Charles!" cried the loyal host, rising as

he spoke. "If his majesty is not on the other side of the water, and

safe from his enemies, let us hope he soon will be!"

The toast was enthusiastically drunk by all the gentlemen present, who

rose at the bidding of the host.

Shortly afterwards the party again rose, but this time it was to take

their departure, for though the wine was very good they could not make

a long sitting.

After assisting Juliana to her seat on the pillion, Dick said to the

king, in a low voice:

"Forgive me, sire, if I have presumed too much. I knew you from the

first, and could not repress my feelings. May my dream soon become a

reality!"

While riding out of Mere, they gazed at the fine old church with its

lofty tower, at the ancient market-house, and at the lofty mound on

which were some vestiges of a castle, built in the reign of Henry III.

When they had quitted the little town, the most striking object was a

precipitous hill, about two miles distant, known as Whitesheet Camp.

After crossing a wild and bleak waste full of earthworks, they reached

Hindon, and then passed over downs, guarded by hills crowned by camps

through Chilmark and Great Teffont, and through the old forest of

Grovely, to Wishford.

From Grovely Hill, on which are the remains of an ancient British town,

they obtained a fine view of Salisbury Plain, with the lofty spire of

the cathedral in the distance. Evening was coming on as they took their

way across part of the plain, and the numerous barrows near which they

rode, tinged by the radiance of the declining sun, had a very striking

effect. But as soon as the sun had set, the picture became cold and

grey, awakening a train of melancholy thoughts. The air, likewise,

began to feel cold, so they quickened their pace, and soon afterwards

arrived at their destination.

CHAPTER XXIII.

HEALE HOUSE.

Heale House was a large stone structure, with square turrets at the

corners, pleasantly situated on the banks of the Avon.

Colonel Philips had ridden on from Wishford to announce the approach

of the party, so that when they arrived Mrs. Hyde came forth with her

brother-in-law, Mr. Frederick Hyde, to give them welcome.

Though Mrs. Hyde cannot be described as young, she was still very

handsome, and being rich, it is somewhat surprising that she still

remained a widow. In the presence of her servants, who were drawn up at

the door, she took care that not a look or gesture should betray her

knowledge of the king, though she recognised him the moment she beheld

him. Her chief attentions were bestowed upon Juliana, to whom she

seemed to take a great fancy.

All the guests were quickly conducted to their rooms by the

chamberlain, but that discriminating personage, not having received

special orders from his mistress, and judging merely from personal

appearance, assigned a very small room to his majesty.

About two hours later the whole party was assembled at supper in

a large room panelled with oak, and adorned with portraits of the

Hyde family. The season was now sufficiently advanced to make a fire

desirable, and the logs blazing on the hearth gave the room a very

cheerful look. The repast was excellent and abundant, and the guests,

whose appetites had been sharpened by the keen air of Salisbury Plain,

did ample justice to it. Hitherto, as we have said, Mrs. Hyde had

acted with the greatest discretion, but she was now so transported

with delight by seeing the king seated at her board that she could

scarcely contain herself. Some excellent trout from the Avon were

served, and she took care he had one of them. A roast bustard happened

to be among the dishes--for that almost extinct bird then abounded on

Salisbury Plain and the adjoining downs--and observing that the king

seemed pleased with the dish, she ordered the carver to take him some

more slices from the breast, with plenty of sauce. Subsequently, she

sent him a couple of larks, though the others had only one each, and

she quite surprised the butler by drinking to her humble guest in a

glass of malvoisie, and sending him a silver flagon full of the same

wine. After supper, Mr. Frederick Hyde, a lawyer, who eventually rose

to be Chief Justice of the King's Bench, had a long discourse with

the king, not in the slightest degree suspecting who he was, and was

astonished at the young man's quickness and wit. Among the guests was

Dr. Henchman, a prebend of Salisbury, who had come over to Heale on

that day, but without acquainting the widow with the real object of his

visit, which was to deliver a message to the king from Lord Wilmot.

Observing the utmost caution, Dr. Henchman waited till Charles retired

to his own room, and then had a private conference with him there. Let

us state that after the Restoration Dr. Henchman was created Bishop of

Salisbury, and in 1663 was translated to the see of London.

Next morning Mrs. Hyde found an opportunity of saying a few words in

private to the king during a stroll which they took together in the

garden.

"I find I was very indiscreet last night," she said. "I allowed my

loyalty to carry me too far, and have awakened the suspicions of my

servants. To prevent any ill consequences, your majesty must apparently

take leave this morning, but you can return privately at night, when I

will have a safe hiding-place prepared for you. Then there will be no

risk, for the servants will not be aware that you are in the house."

Charles entirely approved of the plan, but hoped he should not have to

trouble her long, as he expected to receive an early communication from

Colonel Gunter.

"I will go to Stonehenge this morning," he said. "If Colonel Gunter

should arrive, send him on to me there. In that case, I shall not

return. If he comes not, you will see me again."

"And the hiding-place shall be ready; but I sincerely trust your

majesty may not require it."

"I hope so too," rejoined Charles. "But there is no certainty of my

departure."

They then proceeded towards the house, but had not gone far when they

met Dr. Henchman coming towards them.

"I am about to return to Salisbury immediately," he said. "Has your

majesty any message for Lord Wilmot? I am sure to find him with Mr.

John Coventry."

"Tell him to meet me at Stonehenge," replied Charles. "He must come

prepared for a ride to the Sussex coast."

"I will tell him exactly what you say, my liege," rejoined Dr. Henchman.

"Perhaps he may bring me news," said the king. "Perhaps I may have news

to give him. In any case, let him be prepared."

"Heaven protect your majesty!" exclaimed Dr. Henchman. "I trust your

deliverance is at hand!"

With a profound obeisance he departed, and Charles and Mrs. Hyde

returned to the house.

The king found his attendants in the hall, and at once communicated

his intentions to them. After breakfast the whole party took leave of

Mrs. Hyde and her brother-in-law, mounted their horses, and set off

apparently for Salisbury.

CHAPTER XXIV.

HOW CHARLES ENCOUNTERED DESBOROUGH ON SALISBURY PLAIN.

After riding for a short distance along the banks of the Avon, the

party separated, Colonel Philips and Colonel Wyndham proceeding towards

Salisbury in the expectation of meeting Lord Wilmot, and perhaps

Colonel Gunter; and the king and his fair companion, attended by

Careless, shaping their course in the direction of Stonehenge, which

was fixed as the general place of rendezvous.

Salisbury Plain has a charm of its own, which those who rode across it

on that fine October morning fully experienced. Juliana was enchanted

with the strange novelty of the scene, and allowed her gaze to wander

over the apparently boundless expanse of turf. Not a tree could be

seen--not a solitary cottage--not a shed--the undulating surface of

the plain being only broken by the numerous barrows, that seemed to

have been heaved up from the sod like gigantic mole-hills. Here and

there a shepherd, looking grey as the turf itself, and tending a flock

of sheep, could be distinguished. A singular cluster of sepulchral

tumuli attracted them, and they spent some little time in examining the

group. On coming forth from among the barrows they aroused a flock of

bustards, and watched them scud swiftly over the plain, hallooing after

them, and almost tempted to give them chase.

So occupied were they with the bustards that they did not perceive till

they turned that a strong regiment of horse was advancing across the

plain. Deeming a bold course the safest, Charles rode straight on, and

Careless kept by his side. To ride through the ranks of the enemy was

certainly a daring thing to do, but the perfect confidence with which

the action was performed insured its success. The men looked sternly at

them, but discovering nothing suspicious in their manner, allowed them

to pass on. The danger, however, was not over. Behind the rear guard

rode the commander of the regiment--a heavy, ungainly, sullen-looking

personage, but richly accoutred. With him was an orderly.

"'Tis Old Noll's brother-in-law, Desborough!" whispered Careless.

"I know him," replied the king. "Heaven grant he may not know me!"

Desborough, it appeared, did not mean to let them pass unquestioned.

Reining in his steed, he signed to them to stop. At the same time the

orderly drew his sword, and called out, in an authoritative voice:

"Stand! Major-General Desborough, Commander-in-Chief of the Army of the

West, would speak with you."

Uncovering at this address, both of them remained stationary.

Desborough bent his lowering brows upon them, and fixed his eye upon

the king. Charles, however, did not quail beneath his searching glance.

"Look at that man, Colville," said Desborough. "Look at him well. Hast

seen him before?"

"I do not think so, general," replied the orderly. "Yet the face seems

familiar to me."

It was an anxious moment, for Desborough's brow grew darker, but

Juliana interposed.

"You cannot have seen my husband before, general," she cried; "unless

you have been to Salisbury, for he has never been further from the city

than Amesbury, whither we are going now."

"Is the young man thy husband?" demanded Desborough, in a tone that

implied some doubt. "Attempt not to deceive me."

"We have been married a twelvemonth," she replied. "And not for a

single hour have we been separated since we became man and wife."

"That's much to say," remarked Desborough.

"But there are plenty of persons who can testify to the truth of the

statement. My brother Amyas will tell you that Orlando Jermyn--that's

my husband's name--and his wife are accounted the happiest couple in

Sarum."

"Since you are so well satisfied I will not say you might have made

a better choice," observed Desborough. "But I think your husband may

esteem himself lucky."

"He tells me so repeatedly," she replied; "and I am bound to believe

him. Have you any more questions to ask me?"

Desborough looked again searchingly at Charles, but perceiving no

change in his demeanour, and noticing, moreover, that the others seemed

quite unconcerned, he signed to them to go on. The orderly sheathed his

sword.

Respectfully saluting the major-general, Charles and his attendant

proceeded quietly on their way. After a brief colloquy with the

orderly, Desborough moved on, to Juliana's great relief.

"At last he is gone!" she exclaimed. "Did I not act my part bravely?"

"Admirably," replied Charles. "You have saved me from the greatest

peril in which I have yet been placed. Desborough, I could plainly see,

suspected me. But you puzzled him."

Halting near a barrow, they watched the regiment as long as it remained

in sight. They then rode on towards Stonehenge, which loomed in the

distance.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE PARTING AT STONEHENGE.

There stand those grey mysterious circles of stones, that for centuries

have braved the storms that have beaten upon the wide dreary plain on

which they have been placed--none can tell how, or when. There they

stand--stern, solemn, hoar, crusted with lichens, incomprehensible,

enigmatical as the Sphinx; muttering tales of days forgotten, and of a

people whose habits, customs, and creed are no longer understood. So

strange and mysterious are the old stones, that no wonder the wildest

fables have been told of them. Some have thought the pile was reared

by magic art, others have deemed it the work of the Evil One, intended

by him as a temple where unhallowed rites might be practised. But by

whatever giant hands the mighty pile was reared, in whatever age and

for whatever purpose--hallowed, or unhallowed--whether as an altar for

human sacrifice, as a court of justice, or as a place of execution,

all is now dim conjecture. There the huge stones stand as of yore, but

their history is clean forgotten.

Though a couple of centuries are little in the history of Stonehenge,

a great change has taken place since Charles visited the wondrous

monument. A change for the worse. The mighty stones are there, but the

aspect of the spot is altered. The genius of solitude that brooded over

the pile has fled--fled with the shy bustard that once haunted its

mystic circles, and with the ravens that perched on the stones. The

wide rolling surface of the plain was then wholly uncultivated. Nothing

was to be seen except the clustering barrows, and the banks that marked

what is now called, with what truth we know not, a Roman cursus.

Charles approached the pile by an avenue edged by grassy banks, gazing

with wonder, not unmixed with awe, at the gigantic circles. As he rode

slowly on he came to a single upright stone, and paused to look at it.

Familiar with the legends of the spot, Careless informed the king that

the stone was called "The Friar's Heel."

"The tale runs," he said, "that while the Evil One was engaged in

constructing those mysterious circles, a friar passed by, and was

indiscreet enough to make some disparaging remark upon the works.

Having done so, he fled. The Demon, in a rage, hurled a huge stone

at him, and grazed his heel, but did not check him. There stands the

stone, deeply plunged in the earth, to prove the truth of the legend."

Passing through the outer circle of smaller stones, they dismounted,

and fastening up their horses to an obelisk-shaped fragment, surveyed

the mighty ruin, examining the trilithons and monoliths.

"There is a superstition," observed Careless, "that these stones cannot

be counted alike twice."

"I have heard it," replied Charles; "and I remember what Sir Philip

Sydney says on the subject:

Near Wilton sweet huge heaps of stones are found.

But so confused, that neither any eye

Can count them just, nor reason reason try

What force them brought to so unlikely ground.

"Let us make the attempt. 'Twill serve to pass the time till our

friends arrive. Do you think you can count them?" he said to Juliana.

"I will try, my liege," she replied. "Where shall I begin?"

"With the altar-stone," replied Charles.

Juliana then commenced her task, going carefully through the different

circles, and not pausing till she reached the last stone.

"How many do you make them?" asked Charles.

"Seventy-seven," she replied.

"My reckoning agrees with yours," cried Careless, who had followed her.

"So far good," observed Charles. "But you have not included the

recumbent 'slaughtering stone' near the entrance, nor the 'Friar's

Heel' in the avenue, nor the two small stones near the earthen bank.

Those will increase the number to eighty-one. Now for the second trial.

Start from this stone."

Very carefully Juliana performed her task. When she had reached the

altar-stone, a smile lighted up her charming countenance, and she

exclaimed joyously:

"Seventy-seven! I have counted the stones alike twice--and disproved

the fable."

After congratulating her on her success, Charles observed:

"I wonder whether a loving pair were ever betrothed at this altar?"

The significance given to the words, and the look that accompanied

them, made Juliana cast down her eyes.

"'Tis strange that the same thought should have occurred to me,"

remarked Careless. "How say you, sweetheart?" he continued, taking

Juliana's hand. "Shall we plight our vows here, in his majesty's

presence? You know that duty calls me hence, and that I may be long

detained in France. Let me feel certain I shall not lose you."

"You need not doubt me, Careless," she rejoined, tenderly. "I shall

ever be constant to you."

They then bent before the king, and Careless, still holding her hand,

exclaimed:

"Bear witness, sire, that I solemnly plight my faith to Juliana

Coningsby."

"And I as solemnly plight my faith to William Careless," she added.

"I cannot pronounce a benediction upon you," said Charles. "But I can

bear witness to your betrothal. May your union speedily take place; and

when it does take place, may you be happy!"

The betrothed pair had just risen, when the trampling of horse was

heard.

"They come! they come!" exclaimed the king, joyously. "You were only

just in time."

And he hastened to the entrance of the pile.

When he reached the outer circle he perceived Lord Wilmot, accompanied

by Colonel Wyndham and Colonel Philips, galloping towards the spot.

With them was a fourth Cavalier, whom he doubted not was Colonel Gunter.

In another minute the party came up, sprang from their steeds, and

advanced towards the king, who could not fail to read good news in

their countenances.

"Welcome, my lord! thrice welcome!" he cried to Lord Wilmot.

"Yes, I bring you good news, my liege," replied his lordship. "But it

is for Colonel Gunter to tell it."

Colonel Gunter was then presented to the king, and after making a

profound obeisance, said:

"Your majesty will be pleased to hear that I have succeeded in hiring

a vessel at Shoreham to transport you to Dieppe. She is only sixty

tons, but a good, stout, well-built bark, and her master, Nicholas

Tattersall, is perfectly honest and loyal. The vessel is laden with

sea-coal, and bound for Poole, and Tattersall will at first stand for

the Isle of Wight, but when he has been out at sea for a few hours he

will alter his course, and make for the French coast. The skipper will

be ready to sail as soon as your majesty and your companions reach

Shoreham. With your permission I will attend you thither."

"This is good news indeed!" cried Charles, transported with delight.

"All my difficulties and dangers seem now at an end."

"The only difficulties and dangers your majesty has to apprehend may

occur during our journey to Shoreham," observed Colonel Gunter. "But I

trust we shall avoid them all."

"Yes, sire, I firmly believe the worst is past," said Colonel Wyndham.

"Providence, who has hitherto watched over you, will guard you on your

journey, and bring you safely to the coast. You need not fear the

repetition of such an untoward circumstance as took place at Lyme.

Would I could see you embark, but I should only endanger you if I went

with you!"

"No, thou hast done enough, Frank," cried the king, patting him

affectionately on the shoulder--"far more than I ever shall be able to

requite. We must part here--not for long, I trust. Thou shalt lend me

thy horse, and take that which I have ridden. He will bear thee and

Juliana back to Trent. Fail not to give my adieux to thy most amiable

wife, and to thy venerated mother, whom I love as a son!"

He then turned to Juliana, and found that her bright eyes were dimmed.

She had just parted with Careless.

"Be of good cheer," he said. "I promise you he shall soon return."

"Your majesty, I fear, promises more than you can perform," she sighed.

"But I will hope for the best."

"I cannot thank you sufficiently for all you have done for me," he

said. "But you will always have a place next to Jane Lane in my regard.

How I shall prosper when I have lost you both Heaven only knows.

Farewell!"

He then pressed her hand to his lips, and springing on the steed from

which Colonel Wyndham had just dismounted, he called to the others to

join him, and was soon afterwards seen careering at their head across

Salisbury Plain.

THE END.

LONDON:

WHITING AND CO., 30 & 32, SARDINIA STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Several of the Illustrations accompanying the Tale are engraved by

Mr. J. H. Rimbault from Mr. Manning's Series of Views of the Places

visited by Charles during his wanderings. The views of Old Powick

Bridge, of the Site of Fort Royal, and the Room in the Commandery, were

sketched on the spot by Captain J. H. L. Archer.

[2] Mrs. Jane Llewelyn, eldest daughter of Richard Penderel, of

Pentwrch Ystradgynlais, great, great-grandson of John Penderel of

Boscobel, died 19th of June, 1872, aged eighty, and was interred in the

churchyard of Llangynwyd, Glamorganshire.

[3] Since the publication of the first edition of the work, Mr. Manning

has pointed out an error which shall be rectified in his own words.

The mistake is, perhaps, not important in a work of fiction, but it is

desirable that the precise route taken by the royal fugitive should

be ascertained, and Mr. Manning's description is very interesting as

well as accurate. "You have kept strictly to the line of route pursued

by the King and Jane Lane from Bentley House, except as regards their

arrival at Stratford-on-Avon. They must have come across country until

they touched the high road from Birmingham. When within a mile of

Stratford they retraced their course, and, according to Mr. Wise's

account, turned to the village of Wootton Wawen, seeking the higher

ground, and getting to Stratford by a lane, now called the King's

Lane. Henley is some miles to the right. One field from the lane just

mentioned stood an oak belonging to a friend of mine called the King's

Oak. On descending from this point, they would come to the bridge at

Stratford, on the outskirts of the town; but we do not exactly know

where they passed the river. At dry seasons the Avon could be forded

about a mile above the bridge, but the water is generally deep in this

part."

_Suum cuique._ It is right to mention that the striking description of

the seventh Earl of Derby (cited in Chap. xxii. Book I.) is from the

pen of the late William Robert Whatton, Esq., F.S.A., who contributed

the able Historical and Biographical Memoirs of illustrious Natives of

Lancashire to Baines's History of the County. Mr. Whatton's masterly

portraiture has been erroneously ascribed to Mr. Baines.

[4] An uncle of this brave Cavalier was an ancestor of the great

General Washington, President of the United States.

[5] Evidence of the wonders accomplished by the king in the short

space of time allowed him is afforded by the very curious Diary of

Judge Lechmere, some portions of which have been given by Mr. RICHARD

WOOF, F.S.A., in his "Personal Expenses of Charles II. in the City of

Worcester in 1651." Thus writes Judge Lechmere (the personage whom we

have introduced in a previous chapter) a few days before the Battle:

"The Scots king having sodainly possessed himself of the city of

Worcester, in a few daies _fortified it beyond imagination_." From his

position in Worcester, and from his antiquarian researches, no one is,

perhaps, so intimately acquainted with the history of the faithful city

at the period of this Tale as Mr. WOOF, and the author seizes this

opportunity of acknowledging the obligations he is under to him for

much valuable information.

[6] The whole scheme for the new clock and bells in Worcester Cathedral

originated with the REV. RICHARD CATTLEY; and the city is deeply

indebted to him for, perhaps, the finest set of Bells in the country,

and for a Clock of great power and accuracy. These valuable additions

to the ancient cathedral are to be supplemented by very perfect musical

chimes, the mechanical appliances of which will be the gift of a great

local benefactor, ALDERMAN J. W. LEA.--R. W.

[7] The room in which the duke died is still intact, and a view of

it, by Captain L. Archer, has been given with an earlier portion of

this story. The Commandery is now used as a College for the Blind Sons

of Gentlemen, the Rev. Mr. Blair being the Principal. The ancient

structure bears evidence of the fray, and contains many relics of the

period.

+----------------------------------------------------------------- +

| Transcriber's Note: |

| |

| Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. |

| |

| Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant |

| form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed. |

| |

| Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained. |

| |

| Mid-paragraph illustrations have been moved between paragraphs |

| and some illustrations have been moved closer to the text that |

| references them. The list of Illustrations paginations were not |

| changed. |

| |

| [++] indicates a caption added by the transcriber. |

| |

| Italicized words are surrounded by underline characters, |

| _like this_. |

+------------------------------------------------------------------+