more and more to Sir Ralph, whose love was assured, chatting with him of
days gone by, laughing over the remembrance of childish mischiefs.
And for a time Captain Protheroe submitted to be set aside, striding on
ahead in gloomy silence, thinking on the journey of the previous night,
and cursing the Fates for sending them this interloper to part their
company.
But after a while his heart accused him of cowardice, thus to stand
aside and leave to a mere foolish boy, so he deemed their guest, the
winning of a treasure that he yearned to make his own.
Truly he had not over-many pleasant recollections to recall to her mind,
yet one he had sweet to him, since the knowledge of it lay between their
two hearts alone. So suddenly, as they walked, he fell back a pace or
two, and in a pause turned to her with the question:
"Where learned you the art of fence, Mistress Barbara?"
She started and blushed. Then answered with a spice of mischief:
"My master is beside me. Ralph initiated me in the art, and hath even
greater skill than I, but we cannot all be experts," with a saucy
glance. "Of late years I have practised mostly with Rupert."
He saw the mischief in her face, but forgave it freely.
"Methought I recognised a trick or two of Jules Berin when we crossed
blades. Has your brother studied with him?"
"No, but of his pupil. What know you of Jules Berin?" she asked
quickly, a note of suspicion in her voice.
He laughed, and answered unheeding:
"Faith, I have been often to Paris, and we always have a bout together.
For a soldier picks up many tricks in his wanderings, and, indeed, I
have studied the art both in France, Italy, and the Low Countries. 'Tis
one of the finest pleasures in the world"--he continued with
enthusiasm--"to be pitted against a skilled adversary, straining every
effort of wrist, eye and nerve."
There was a moment's silence. Then Barbara demanded quietly:
"Then where learned you the trick of disarming yourself, sir?"
He started.
"Madame?"
"Was it a trick or no? I had not deemed it so before, yet now I
fear---- Confess, sir."
He laughed softly. "Alas, madame, you have entrapped me. I must
confess to the trick. I learned it then, madame, when I learned many
other matters 'twould scarce interest you to hear of."
Barbara sighed and smiled.
"See how we poor women may be deceived by our own vanity. For ever
since our meeting I have deemed myself a most excellent swordswoman, and
gloried in my skill."
"But so indeed you are," he protested eagerly. "And when we have the
opportunity, I will teach you passes that perchance none save I and half
a dozen others understand."
But here Barbara must turn again to Ralph, who was listening jealously
to the conversation which he could in no wise comprehend. Skilfully she
drew him on to talk, and presently the two men were engaged in a deep
discussion of their favourite pastime, waxing for the nonce almost
friendly over their eager comparison of rival styles of fence.
So they talked, merrily enough, well-nigh forgetting they were fugitives
in fear of their lives. For brave hearts do not brood on distresses,
but rather despise them, defying the oppressions of crabbed Fortune, and
reaping gladness even from the sorrows she has sown.
They walked the night through, halting at times to rest, jet for the
most part pushing on as rapidly as possible, that their wanderings might
be the sooner ended. Many a time, when the night had grown old, and the
silence of weariness had fallen upon them, did Captain Protheroe glance
anxiously at the girl at his side, for he knew nothing of the powers of
a woman, and doubted whether he were not pushing her strength too far.
But she answered him ever with a bright smile and quickened pace, though
her limbs ached and her body was heavy with fatigue. For she would in
no wise endure to be a drag upon his purpose, and he, marvelling at her
endurance, let her be. Yet he was very tender towards her, wrapping her
in his cloak whenever they halted for a rest, fetching her fresh water
to drink, doing all in his power to ease her journey; and all without
question or explanation, but with a gentle, quiet courtesy that softened
even her pride, and led her to submit to his ministrations with a sweet
gladness.
Onward they journeyed, until with the first grey tinge of morning light
they found themselves upon a wide moor, intersected by deep ditches,
stretching wild and drear before them in the cold light of the dawning.
Here and there on the wide expanse loomed dark and shadowy the outline
of some village, the clustering houses pressing round the sheltering
tower of the church. Here and there the light gleamed coldly on the
dead waters of some still dank morass; it was a scene well suited to the
corpse-like grey of dawn, a scene of utter desolation.
The two men glanced quickly at one another as the growing light revealed
each minute more distinctly their surroundings.
Then with one accord they turned to Barbara.
She was gazing about her in astonishment.
"What place is this?" she questioned. "'Tis like a field of the dead."
"And so it is, Barbara," answered Ralph quietly. "This is Sedgemoor."
She shuddered fearfully.
"Truly a scene well fitted to the death of such a cause," she muttered.
"One would call it the haunt of devils. Why did you bring me here?"
Captain Protheroe shrugged his shoulders. "It lay upon our way, madame,
and I fear I thought no more on the matter. The world has many
battlefields----"
"But none as this one--to us." Then she continued more brightly,
"Whither go we, then?"
Captain Protheroe pointed across the plain to one oil the villages just
emerging from the mist.
"Yonder is our destination, Mistress Barbara. 'Tis the village of
Chedzey. In that village is an inn, an inn so atrocious that neither
officer nor man of the royal troops would ever willingly put head inside
the door. I lay there once, in ignorance, and had hoped never again to
be so led astray. But times have changed, and it must be our refuge."
"But how? Surely the folk will suspect. Our dress----"
"I purpose to go there as an officer of the royal army, who hath made an
important capture of two desperate rebels, yourself and Sir Ralph, to
wit. The capture was made this morning before daybreak. I have sent my
men on to Wells to fetch an escort; we remain all day at the inn, and at
night, our escort not arriving, we set out to meet them on foot. What
think you of the scheme?"
"'Tis a mighty lame story," muttered Sir Ralph scornfully.
"Zounds, man, then devise a better," was the angry retort. "What matter
the story an we carry it off with a high hand? These rustics are simple
enow, and they know better than to carp or question the words of an
officer of the king. Besides, we cannot lie out here all day, and
Mistress Barbara requires rest and food before she set off on another
tramp."
"As you will then," answered Ralph somewhat sulkily, "But the danger is
great."
"Of course the danger is great. What then? In a great game a man must
play high if he stands in to win. What say you, madame?"
"That I fear you are a gambler, sir," she answered quickly, eager to
dispel the quarrel. "But since there seems no alternative, why talk
further? Let us to Chedzey and trust to fortune."
"We must needs wait a little space. 'Tis somewhat early hours for
calling."
So they sat to rest, and watched the golden light sweep up the sky and
shade softly into the pale rose of the sunrise.
Presently Barbara turned to Captain Protheroe.
"Tell me a little how the battle was ordered," she commanded.
"Faith, madame, that is no easy task," he laughed. "A man hath little
time to note much of a fight save his own men and those immediately
opposing him. And the greater part was fought in darkness, to boot.
But--yonder at Chedzey lay our camp, the militia was at Middlezey and
the cavalry with the general over there at Western Zeyland. 'Twas a
night attack, you must know, and should have been a surprise, but the
Duke's army, being stopped by the Bussex Rhine--yonder it lies."
"What! That little ditch to stop an army?"
"Aye! But 'twas flooded then, full twenty feet across. And they made
such a to-do being held up by a strange river that our outposts
discovered them and we soon turned out. We couldn't get across at them,
but drew up our men on the far side of the ditch and fired across. We
were twenty feet apart, mind you, but their fellows fired too high and
there was small slaughter on our side the ditch. Later we bridged the
Rhine and got fairly at them, and then our cavalry came round from
Western Zeyland and then 'twas soon over. There was no doubt of victory
from the beginning, and but for the darkness and some confusion at first
the fight had not lasted so long. The peasants fought bravely enow, I
confess,--I would I had the training of some of them,--but the attack
was bungled. Nothing was provided for, their guides led them astray,
their ammunition was lost, they had no competent leaders, and not
knowing whether to advance or retire, they stood still and were cut down
like grass. The leadership was a disgrace. Lord Grey and the cavalry
ran away, at the first shot, and the Duke and most of his officers
directly after."
"By Heavens, sir! I will endure no more."
Sir Ralph stood beside them, his hand clapped to his sword-hilt, his
face crimson, his eyes blazing with fury.
"I will endure no more o' this!" he cried. "Is it not enough, sir, that
you force yourself upon this lady's company, but you must needs poison
her ears with lies concerning your damned victory, with dastardly
slanders against myself and my friends? By Heaven, sir, but you shall
answer for those words ere the world be a day older."
Captain Protheroe stared for a moment in amazement. Then he gave a
quick exclamation of annoyance and embarrassment.
"Peste!" he muttered. "I had entirely forgotten you were o' the other
party."
"Maybe, sir, but that is no excuse for your words."
The officer rose to his feet, looking annoyed and troubled.
"My words! I am sorry they offend you. Had I but remembered your
presence I had not spoken so rashly, perchance. But--the words are
spoken, and"--with a shrug, "i' faith, I cannot alter facts."
"Facts! The whole story is a dastardly lie."
"Sir!"
"And you shall give me satisfaction."
"With the greatest pleasure, sir, as soon as I can come by a sword. I
shall enjoy nothing more."
Barbara gazed desperately from one angry man to the other, hesitating
what best to do. Then she stepped between them with quiet dignity.
"Ralph! Captain Protheroe! Gentlemen! You forget yourselves, I
think."
Captain Protheroe flushed and bowed stiffly. "Your pardon, madame," he
said coldly.
Sir Ralph looked moodily at the girl.
The danger was not yet past.
"Captain Protheroe," she continued, with the same quiet air of command,
"I have dropped my--my kerchief in yonder ditch, I think. Will you have
the goodness to go in search of it."
He stared at the audacity of the request, for as Barbara had never
approached the place she indicated, his search promised to be a somewhat
fruitless one. But meeting her resolute glance he turned without a
word, and strode down into the deep tangle of gorse and bracken that
covered the bottom of that dried-up ditch.
Then Barbara turned to Ralph, and used all her arts to bring him to a
more peaceable frame of mind.
"Indeed, Ralph," she urged, "'tis sheer folly to be so enraged; you
could scarce be more so had you run away in good truth. He meant not to
offend thee, I am sure on't. He spoke but what he knew. Doubtless all
the royal side think thus of the fight."
"But 'tis a sheer lie to say we ran away at the first shot, or for that
matter, ran away at all. A foul, dastardly lie."
"Oh, hush, Ralph. He speaks but as he has heard, and doubtless he
believes it to be true. Anyhow, 'tis nought to fight about."
"You don't understand, Barbara," persisted the enraged man impatiently.
"What should you know of a man's honour, and when it behooves him to
fight for it? I tell you he must answer for his words."
"And I tell you you must not fight. Think, Ralph, suppose you killed
each other, I should be alone."
There were tears of desperation in her eyes; he was moved to pity.
"There, there! Barbara, don't you be troubled," he said, patting her
hand with an air of humouring kindness. "I promise you we will not
fight yet, not at least till you are in safety. I doubt not 'twill need
both our wits to get out of this pother. A quarrel does not stale with
delay, we'll postpone it till more favourable date."
And with that Barbara was for the present content. She had staved off
the fight; who could tell what the future might bring?
So they turned to seek Captain Protheroe, but he was not in sight,
neither did he answer to their call. But hurrying to the edge of the
fosse they peered down and saw him, on his knees, in a tangle of
bracken, all his attention riveted upon a small packet which he held in
his hands.
Barbara called to him eagerly.
"I have found my kerchief, 'tis needless to seek further. What have you
there?"
Then he rose to his feet, and climbed up to her side. The two on the
bank stared at him in amazement; his eyes blazed with a strange light,
and his voice trembled with excitement.
"Mistress Barbara! Sir Ralph! What think you I have found? Nay, you
would never dream it. 'Tis a miracle of wonder. 'Tis well-nigh
inconceivable."
"But what is it? What mean you?" they cried in amaze.
His hand shook with eagerness as he held out his prize. 'Twas a small
letter-case in green silk, richly embroidered in gold; a maze of
scrolls, in the centre of which were the letters J. M. entwined beneath
a coronet sewn with pearls. Barbara looked at it in doubt; what might
be there to cause such desperate eagerness.
"J. M.," she questioned. "That is----"
"James, Duke of Monmouth, madame, who else? And were there a doubt, the
contents dispel it."
"The contents?"
"Aye. I have already searched it. It contains five letters, so
precious, madame, that it would seem he bore them ever about his person.
How they came here is a mystery; he must have lost them in the hurry of
his flight. 'Twas indeed irony of fate that he should lose them just in
the time of need."
"But what are these letters?" interrupted Ralph impatiently.
"Three are from Lady--from a woman."
"You did not read them!" interposed Barbara quickly.
"Nay, madame, they are sacred. We will leave them to the grave Nature
herself has prepared."
He tore them in pieces and scattered them slowly into the ditch. Then
as the last scrap of paper settled into the shadow of the gorse, he
muttered softly:
"There lies, I doubt not, the story of a hopeless love."
"But the others!" interposed Ralph sharply.
"The others!" Here Captain Protheroe laughed quickly, all the
excitement returning to his face. "Ah! the old fox, how he duped us!
These other letters are from no less a person than George Jeffreys, Lord
Chief Justice of England."
"From Jeffreys, and to the Duke?"
"Even so. Faith! I knew the scare at the Duke's invasion was great,
but I never dreamed 'twas so serious as to lead so cautious a toad as
Jeffreys thus far to commit himself."
"Read!" commanded Barbara, in a maze of thought.
So Captain Protheroe again unfolded the letters and read their contents
aloud, while his companions listened with breathless eagerness.
_To his Grace the Duke of Monmouth by the hand of my Secretary Stephen
Jewars:_
YOUR GRACE.--Concerning the matters upon which Mr. Ferguson hath already
spoken with me, I do assure your Grace that I am your Grace's most
devoted servant in this affair, and I do earnestly pray that your
Grace's present undertaking may meet with success. The time is well
nigh ripe for the attempt. The nation hath been much discontented with
the manner of the late elections, and the speech of Master Edward
Seymour (of which doubtless your Grace hath heard), is the subject of
conversation throughout the town, having awakened much thought in the
minds of the people. His present Majesty sits but unsteadily upon the
throne, and his power will be yet more greatly shaken when he hath
carried out that which is in his mind. For 'tis his fixed intention to
forward by all means the cause of the Papish religion so abhorrent to
the people of England, and to this end he purposeth as soon as may be to
seek to bring about the repeal of the Habeas Corpus and the abolition of
the Test Act. It needeth but the introduction of such measures to
awaken in all power the indignation of this people, and to turn their
eyes at once to him who alone is at hand to save them from tyranny and
oppression, your Grace's self. Therefore, your Grace, I do most humbly
beseech you to delay yet a little while, this undertaking, till His
Majesty shall have so deeply committed himself in defence of his
religion that his person shall have become abhorred of all the people,
and your Grace shall indeed be welcomed as the saviour of an unhappy
nation. And to this end, I will with all diligence seek to abuse the
mind of His Majesty with regard to the will of his subjects, and so urge
him more speedily on his course.
I rely upon your Grace's sacred promise, to preserve this letter a
secret even from your Grace's most intimate followers, for rumour is
many tongued, and as you will readily conceive should a breath of
suspicion light upon me, my power to assist your Grace with information
of the Council Chamber will be forever destroyed.
Ever your Grace's most devoted servant,
GEORGE JEFFREYS.
"This second is dated June, written after the Duke's landing, when all
London was in a ferment as to what should befall."
YOUR GRACE.--I do greatly rejoice to hear what manner of welcome hath
been accorded your Grace. Only a consciousness that I may better serve
your Grace in my present post holds me back from hastening to your side.
But I must warn your Grace that many preparations are about to be made
to withstand your progress. General Feversham will start for the West
in three days, and with him all the forces collected in this
neighbourhood; General Churchill hath already departed thither with the
Blues. His Majesty hath further summoned home such regiments as are at
present abroad in the Dutch service, but their loyalty is greatly
questioned, and 'tis also feared that the militia of Devon and Somerset
will at the first encounter go over to the side of your Grace.
It were wise, an it meet with your Grace's approval to strike rapidly
for London, avoiding encounter with General Feversham (of whose route I
will keep your Grace informed). For here be few troops and those of
doubtful loyalty, and the late arrests in the City have won for your
Grace many waverers.
Again relying upon your Grace's promise to keep this matter secret I
remain deeply grateful to your Grace for your most generous offers, and
I pray Heaven to send your Grace all success in this undertaking.
Ever your Grace's most devoted servant,
GEORGE JEFFREYS.
"So they run. Treason clear enow, is't not?"
"Pah! the traitor!" cried Ralph furiously. "And now, having himself
conspired against the King, yet he goes free and sits high, judging his
fellow conspirators."
"And such judgments," cried Barbara. "Such wicked, brutal judgments.
Oh! 'tis unbearable."
"And yet, Mistress Barbara, methinks his lordship is himself in no very
enviable position. I doubt not he would give much to know the
whereabouts of these letters. And when he sits in court, and rolls out
his bloody sentences, I dare swear his own head feels somewhat unsteady
on his shoulders."
"That which we overheard in the inn at Taunton, was not that also part
of his treachery?"
"By Heavens, yes. This explains his dealings with Ferguson. Doubtless
Ferguson acted as go-between; he knew the secret and he is no man to
spare his friend an he can use him. It was indeed highly important
Ferguson should leave the country in safety."
"But why did not Duke Monmouth betray him?" asked Barbara.
"Because the Duke was no traitor," answered Ralph sharply.
"Possibly," answered the captain drily. "And otherwise, he had lost the
proofs. Men say the Duke wrote to his Majesty, claiming to have some
secret to confide in him after his arrest; is't possible he referred to
this treachery of Jeffreys? But 'twould have been useless to bring such
accusation without proof."
"Well, here are the proofs. Now what were best to do?" began Ralph
eagerly.
"Nothing."
"Nothing! What! when you hold in your hands such perfect revenge,
wouldest leave the scoundrel free to guard his neck in safety?"
"The safety of Jeffreys' neck is a matter of small importance to me
compared with the safety of my own. Jeffreys is a man in power. There
are, certainly, other men in power, who would give substantial
consideration for the possession of this knowledge and who would
joyfully work his ruin. Sunderland or my Lord Halifax, for example.
There are such men, I say, but unfortunately, it is--er--far from
convenient for me to appear before them at present. No, we are outlaws
flying from the justice of the country, and the faster we fly, the wiser
we shall be. Let us get safely to Holland, there will be time enough
for revenge when our own necks are in safety."
Ralph submitted reluctantly. 'Twas natural that to him, whose own
friends and followers had suffered so horribly at the hands of the lord
chief justice, revenge should appear more sweet than life itself, but he
recognised the truth of his companion's words, and for Barbara's sake,
if for no other, consented to leave the matter in Captain Protheroe's
hands.
The sun was now risen, and the clear light revealed the pallor of
Barbara's face, the dark rings of weariness round her eyes. Reproaching
himself for having so long forgotten her, Captain Protheroe proposed
they should at once repair to the village.
Their preparations were soon completed. The captain buckled on Ralph's
sword, tied the latter's hands behind him, and drawing Barbara's arm
through his they marched forward.
*CHAPTER XIX*
The village of Chedzey was little more than a collection of mean
cottages, the largest of which was the inn. The inhabitants were already
stirring, and the wife of the innkeeper was standing at her door when
the party approached.
She stared in amazement and pity at Barbara's tattered garments and
weary face, and cast a scowl in the direction of the officer whom she
recognized as one of the hated Tangiers regiment, lately the scourge of
the countryside. To his demand for beds and breakfast she answered
sulkily that he must seek further, the house could provide him nothing,
and even when he sharply urged his commands, she advanced grumbling
objections and refused to move from the doorway.
But upon this her husband appeared, in fear at sight of the officer, and
sharply bade her hold her peace, and let the strangers enter.
"Art mad, wife?" he whispered. "Wouldest have the house burned about
our ears, that thou darest to thwart one o' Kirke's officers? Stand by,
and let him have his way."
"Thou wast ever a chicken-hearted fool, John," retorted the woman
scornfully. "This is an honest house, and not for such wastrels as they
o' the royal army. But have your way and don't blame me an you like not
your customers."
"Pardon, your honour," cried the man, bowing low before the captain.
"The woman's tongue runs out of all holding. Peace, jade, and get you
in, or 'twill be the worse for you."
With an angry glance at her husband the woman withdrew, and the host led
the way upstairs into a poorly-furnished parlour, where after some
little delay breakfast was served, no very tempting meal, but welcome
indeed to the famished travellers.
Judging that where most is told, least is surmised, Captain Protheroe
gave mine host a detailed account of the capture of his prisoners,
adding such realistic details as most appealed to his sense of fitness.
His horse, he said had been shot by the rebel, hence his journeying to
the village on foot, his only trooper having been despatched to Wells
for fresh horses and escort.
Barbara and Ralph listened with great interest to the dramatic account
of the latter's desperate struggle, with difficulty refraining from
applause at the close of his picturesque statement.