CASTLE FIELD.
It was a fine November morning, and as the surrounding hills were
clearly distinguishable, the prince enjoyed the prospect as he
cantered along.
The atmosphere being free from smoke as well as fog, the town had a
bright, clean, and cheerful look, which it seldom wears now-a-days.
What would Charles have thought if he could have conjured up in
imagination the smoky factories and huge warehouses now covering the
pleasant orchards and gardens near which he rode?
Manchester in '45, as we have already stated, resembled a country
town, and on no side was the resemblance more complete than on this,
since not more than half a dozen scattered habitations could be
descried, the upper end of Market Street being then really a lane.
But though the outskirts of the town were quiet enough, it was evident
from the tumultuous sounds that reached the ear, not only that the
inhabitants generally were astir, but that the numerous companies
billeted upon them were likewise moving about.
The call of the bugle resounded from various quarters, and the beating
of the drum was heard in almost every street. Charles listened
delightedly to sounds that proclaimed the presence of his army. He
thought of the advance he had already made--how another week's march
would bring him to London; his breast beat high with hope and ardour;
and he fully believed at that moment that his romantic expedition
would be crowned with success.
Just then the bells of all the churches began to ring, and their
joyful peals heightened his enthusiasm.
Not wishing to enter the town, he commanded the orderly to guide him
to Castle Field; upon which the man rode on in front, and describing a
wide circuit then entirely unbuilt upon, but now converted into
densely-populated districts and large streets, brought him at last to
a large open piece of ground, almost encircled by the river Medlock,
and partly surrounded by the crumbling walls of an old Roman-British
castle, in the centre of which the artillery was parked.
Not far from the field-pieces were the powder carriages; while a large
portion of the area was occupied by baggage-waggons; the remainder of
the space being filled by artillerymen and their horses.
No better place in the town or neighbourhood could have been found for
the purpose. Castle Field would have accommodated double the number of
cannon, and thrice the men, it now held.
It was a very pleasant spot, and a favourite resort of the townsfolk.
Sports of various kinds took place within the ring, and an annual fair
was held there. But it had never looked more picturesque than it did
now, filled as it was with cannon, ammunition, baggage-waggons,
sumpter-horses, and men.
Early as was the hour, there were numerous spectators on the
spot--women as well as men, for the artillery was a great
attraction--and some dozens had climbed the old walls, and planted
themselves on the top, to obtain a better view of the novel scene.
As soon as the crowd collected on Castle Field became aware of the
prince's arrival, they gathered around him, cheering and expressing
heartfelt satisfaction that he had escaped the treacherous attack made
upon him overnight.
There could be no doubt from the enthusiasm displayed that the
prince's escape had greatly increased his popularity, all those who
got near him declaring they were ready to defend him to the death.
Warmly thanking them for their zeal, Charles extricated himself from
the press, and was joined by the Duke of Perth, and some officers of
artillery, with whom he rode over the field, examining different
matters as he went along.
While making this inspection he encountered many ladies, from all of
whom he received congratulations, and to whom he had something
agreeable to say.
Amongst others, whose curiosity had induced them to pay an early visit
to Castle Field, was Beppy. She had come thither, attended by Helen
Carnegie.
Charles stopped to speak to the young lady, and noticing that she was
decked in white, and wore a St. Andrew's cross, he said, "You have not
forgotten, I perceive, Miss Byrom, that this is the fête-day of our
Scottish patron saint."
"I was reminded of it by Helen Carnegie, your highness," replied
Beppy. "She came to tell me of your most fortunate escape, for which I
cannot be sufficiently grateful, and offered to make me a cross."
"No one has done me a like good turn," laughed Charles.
"Here is a braw St. Andrew's cross, if your royal highness will deign
to wear it," cried Helen, offering him one.
Charles smiled his thanks, and fastened the cross to his jacket.
"Are you staying with Miss Byrom, Helen?" he inquired.
"'Deed I am, your royal highness," she replied.
"She will have a lodging at my father's house so long as the army
remains in the town," added Beppy.
"I am glad to hear it," replied the prince. "I am certain she will be
well cared for."
He then bowed graciously to the young lady, and bestowing a parting
smile on Helen, rode on.
But he soon came to another halt.
A little further off he discovered Constance Rawcliffe and Monica.
They were attended by Father Jerome. Graciously saluting the two
damsels, and bowing to the priest, he said to Miss Rawcliffe:
"You are the very person I desired to see. I have some news for
you--but it is for your private ear."
On this intimation Monica and the priest drew back.
Charles then continued in a low voice: "You will be surprised to learn
that your father has just fought a duel." Seeing her change colour, he
hastened to add: "You need have no sort of uneasiness. He is unhurt. I
left the ground only a short time ago, and can therefore speak
positively."
"With whom was the duel fought?" inquired Constance, unable to repress
her emotion. "Not with----"
"Not with Atherton Legh," supplied the prince; "though the quarrel was
on his account. Sir Richard's adversary was Colonel Townley. Luckily,
your father was disarmed, and so the affair was brought to an end. The
duel appears to have been unavoidable, since Sir Richard refused to
apologise to Captain Legh for rudeness offered him, and would not even
give him satisfaction. Colonel Townley, therefore, took up the
quarrel, and you know the result."
"Is the affair ended?" she asked, eagerly.
"Not quite. A full explanation seems to me to be due from Sir Richard
Rawcliffe to Captain Legh; and to insure it, I have laid my commands
upon Sir Richard to meet Captain Legh in my presence after the levée,
in order that he may answer certain questions which I shall then put
to him. I fear this will not be agreeable to your father; but he might
have avoided it. A few words would set all right, but these he refuses
to utter. I had, therefore, no alternative but to compel him to speak
out."
"It is right that Captain Legh should know the truth," remarked
Constance.
"I felt sure you would think so, and I therefore enjoined Sir Richard
to bring you with him; but if you see any objections, I will excuse
your attendance."
"Perhaps my presence may be necessary," she rejoined. "I will come."
"That is well," said the prince. "I owe Captain Legh a large debt of
gratitude, and am anxious to pay it. I shall begin by setting him
right. That done, I shall use all my influence to effect a
reconciliation between---- You understand my meaning, I am quite
sure."
"No more on that subject, I implore your highness," she rejoined,
blushing deeply.
"I hope I have said enough to prove how much interested I am in the
young man, and how anxious I am to promote his happiness," he said.
"Why, here he is!" he exclaimed, as Atherton was seen riding towards
the spot. "If I had summoned him, he could not have appeared more à
propos. I hope Miss Rawcliffe will not continue to look coldly upon
him."
"I am bound to obey," she rejoined, demurely.
"I wonder what message he brings me?" remarked the prince.
"I dare say your royal highness could give a shrewd guess," she
rejoined, with an almost imperceptible smile.
At this moment Atherton came up, and, removing his hat, delivered a
letter to the prince.
"From Lord George Murray," he said, still remaining uncovered.
"'Tis not very important," observed Charles, opening it, and glancing
at its contents. "But I am glad you have brought it, since it gives me
the opportunity of placing you in attendance upon Miss Rawcliffe, who
may want an escort when she quits the ground."
"I shall be charmed with the office," rejoined Atherton; "but I am not
sure that Miss Rawcliffe will be equally well pleased."
"Have no misgiving," replied Charles, with a significant look, which
implied that all was arranged. "I have some further orders to give
you, but it will be time enough when you return to head-quarters.
Meanwhile, I charge you to take especial care of these young ladies."
With this he rode off, and almost immediately afterwards quitted the
ground, accompanied by the Duke of Perth.
How much surprised Monica and Father Jerome had been by the earnest
discourse that took place between the prince and Constance, we need
scarcely state; but they were still more surprised when Atherton came
up, and was placed in attendance upon the young lady.
It was quite clear to the lookers-on that the prince had generously
taken Atherton's cause in hand, and meant to carry it through to a
successful issue. Monica, who had been much pained at the
misunderstanding between the lovers, was rejoiced; but the priest felt
differently.
Meantime, Atherton, by no means certain that he was welcome,
endeavoured to excuse himself to Constance.
"I trust Miss Rawcliffe will not blame me for this intrusion," he
said. "She can dismiss me as soon as she thinks proper."
"That would be impossible, since you have been left with me by the
prince," she rejoined. "But I have no desire to dismiss you. On the
contrary, I am glad to have an opportunity of congratulating you on
your good fortune. You have gained the prince's favour, and are
therefore on the high road to distinction."
"If I am restored to your good opinion I shall be satisfied," he
rejoined.
"My good opinion is worth little," she said.
"'Tis everything to me," he cried.
She made no direct reply, but after a moment's pause remarked:
"To-day may prove as eventful to you as yesterday. Has not the prince
acquainted you with his intentions?"
"He has told me nothing. I am ordered to attend him after the
levée--that is all."
"'Tis to meet my father, who, by his highness's command, will disclose
certain matters to you. But pray ask me no more questions. I ought not
to have told you so much. You will learn all in good time. And now I
must relieve you from this irksome attendance."
"You know very well it is not irksome," he replied, with a look of
reproach.
"At all events, you must have other duties to attend to. You have to
prepare for the muster of your regiment. Jemmy Dawson is fully
occupied, or he would be here with Monica. I really must set you at
liberty."
"Pray let me see you safely from the ground?" entreated Atherton.
"Well, I cannot object to that."
Then turning to Monica, she said:
"Are you ready to depart?"
"Quite," replied the other.
Atherton cleared the way, and having brought them to the long
unfinished street that led from Castle Field to the centre of the
town, he bowed, and rode off, fondly persuading himself he should soon
meet Constance again.