"Now, Roger Hartup," said the young lord, as soon as the deputies were
gone, "tell me more of this news. You were with the party, it seems."
"Why, yes, my lord," replied a tall, long-boned Wiltshire man, dressed
in the full colours of the house of Walton, with broadsword by his
side and pistols in his belt; "Langan took me with him without saying
a word of where he was going. He told me afterwards that he was
obliged to come back for fear your lordship should need him, and that
I was to stay with the major and his troop, because I knew all the
lanes and byways, and, moreover, loved playing with hand and arm."
"It was well bethought," said his master; "they might need a guide."
"I don't know, my lord," replied the servant; "but the captain of the
troop seemed to know all the hedgerows as if he had been born among
them. But as soon as Major Randal had heard Langan's message, he gave
the order to muster and be ready in an hour. That was about half-past
one, my lord, for we had scattered the pebbles about as we went, I
warrant, and before half-past two the troop were in their saddles, and
moving down at a brisk trot by Lumley Lane, and then at a canter over
the common. That brought us to Hill Down, where all the folks were
asleep, and then we had three miles of high-road to Rushford. As we
were crossing the brook, or rather letting the horses drink, for the
major had a care to the beasts' mouths, it being a hot night, we heard
a trumpet sound Bishop's Merton way; so then he gave the order to
trot, and taking the cart-road we came upon the edge of the meadows,
where we could see the road up to the house and yet have shelter of
the alders; and there we sat quite still till we saw the Roundhead
rascals coming up at a walk, with a sort of animal at their head more
like a chandler than a soldier, and beside him, Dry, of Longsoaken, on
his grey mare When they got out clear upon the meadow, old Dry pointed
along towards the bottom and said something--we could not hear what he
said, but it was like as if he told them, 'If you keep down that way,
you'll get up to the house without being seen from the windows.' The
major spoke never a word. Indeed, he spoke very little all the time,
but let them go on till----"
"Was Dry still with them?" asked his master, interrupting his
discourse.
"Lord bless your lordship! no," answered the servant; "he left them as
soon as he had pointed out the way, and trotted back. But when they
were half-across the meadows, about half a gun-shot from the alders, a
trumpeter's horse of ours smelt them out, and like an undrilled beast,
thinking his master was somewhat long in sounding the charge, he began
and neighed as loud as he could. Thereupon they halted, and began to
look about, as if a horse neighing was somewhat wonderful; then the
major gave the word, and we were out from the alders in a minute, and
down upon them. Your lordship has seen a plump of teal rise up from a
pond and whirl away all in a sweep. Well, four-fifths of them were
round in a minute, and longest legs won the day. About twenty old
fellows, with copper noses and steel caps, stood their ground,
however, and fired their pistols at us, keeping all together, and
showing broadsword. But we took to steel too, and they could not bide
it, but broke; and though they fought better than I ever thought to
see such crop-eared hounds fight, they were forced to follow their
fellows, though not before some seven had tasted green turf, and had
as much of it as will serve them till the world's end. Then we wheeled
and followed the rest, cutting them off from the town; and, though
they rode hard, yet more than nine or ten had cause to wish their
spurs were better, till at length, after having chased them back to
Rushford, the major sent our captain, Barecolt, with thirty men, to
keep them going while he halted, and gave me ten to bring here, saying
your lordship might need them."
"Then, did Dry, of Longsoaken, fly with them?" demanded his lord; "or
did he run back to the town?"
"I doubt that he knew of the affair at all, my lord," replied the man;
"he was far down the lane before we charged. No trumpet was blown for
fear of bringing the militia men from Bishop's Merton upon us, and the
banks would prevent him from seeing or hearing either."
"Then we will strike a blow at him," said Lord Walton.
The servant rubbed his hands and laughed. "That will rejoice the
cockles of many a poor man's heart in Bishop's Merton," he cried. "The
old sanctified sinner is hated as much as he is feared. Why he was the
cause of poor old Sergeant Neil being dragged away, and killed with
bad usage; and I do believe the boys would stone him on the green if
they knew it, for he--the old man--used to gather the lads about him
on the green and tell them stories of the old wars, when Tyrone was
a rebel in Ireland and he fought under Blount, Earl of Devon, till
their little eyes almost came out of their heads."
"Dry was the cause, did you say?" asked the young nobleman. "I thought
the only cause was found in the words he spoke--that the king, if he
were well counselled, would call William of Orange to his aid, would
raise his standard at once, march to London, proclaim martial law, and
hang the two ringleaders of the parliament before the door of the
house."
"Ay, my lord, that was the pretence," replied the servant, "though he
never said all that; and they pretended, too, he knew more of what was
going on in the north, if he chose to speak. But the real reason was,
that the old man, one day last year, when he was stronger than he was
afterwards, heard the sneaking villain saying things to poor little
Arrah that were not comely, and broke his head with his staff. Dry
stomached the affront till the time came for his revenge, and then
brought the men over from Devizes to take old Neil away; so I am right
glad your lordship is going to punish him on that account."
"'Tis not on that account, Roger Hartup," replied his master, gravely,
"for of that I know nothing; but first, the man is a rank traitor, as
there is proof enough; and secondly, I am convinced that this fire
last night was not kindled without help. There were men seen about the
place just after dark. Dry was up here upon a false pretence in the
morning; and no one was near the west tower with a light. Bring me the
paper and ink, and call the lance prisade of the troop who came with
the men."
He wrote a few hasty lines while the servant was gone; and on his
return with a stout, broad-set soldier, the young nobleman said: "Now,
sir, do you think that Major Randal will object to your executing a
warrant, under my hand, for the arrest of a rank traitor in the
neighbourhood?"
"I was ordered to receive your commands, my lord, and obey them,"
replied the soldier. "But the major told me to beg your lordship to
let him know early what you intended to do, for that he did not hold
it safe to remain here much after noon, for fear of being cut off."
"I will send to him directly," replied Lord Walton; "but you, in the
mean time, take this warrant, and go round by the back of the town to
a place called Longsoaken, where you will apprehend one Ezekiel Dry.
Bring him hither without giving him time to speak with any one in
private."
"But if he resists?" asked the man.
"Use force," answered Lord Walton, and then added, "but there will be
no resistance. Take all your men with you but those who are guarding
the committee-men, and five of my people besides. You, Roger, go with
him, with Hugh, and three others. Leave Langan, for I shall want him;
and now," he continued, as soon as they had retired, "to examine into
the business of this fire."
Thus saying, he rose, took his hat, which lay beside him, and passing
through the neighbouring hall, went out upon the terrace. Then
circling round the ruins of the tower which had fallen he made his way
to the end, where, black and still reeking, stood the part of the
building in which the fire had commenced.
No one was near, and Lord Walton stood and gazed at the ruin for
several minutes with sad and solemn feelings. It looked to him like
the corpse of one untimely slain; all was grey and desolate where
lately had been life and cheerfulness. The room in which he used to
sit was gone, and all that marked the spot where he had passed many an
hour of calm and pleasant contemplation were the charred ends of the
rafters, and one stout beam, which, not quite destroyed, hung black
and crumbling from side to side, bending down half broken in the
midst. Part of the wall had fallen in, and part still stood, rugged
and ruined, while in the chamber below some tattered fragments of rich
damask furniture and old tapestry hung fluttering in the wind. The
smoke still rose up from the pile of rubbish beneath; but on one of
the chimneys a bird had already ventured to perch, as if claiming it
thenceforth for the inheritance of the wild things of the earth.
After a few minutes' sad contemplation the young lord turned and
looked around over the fair scene he was about to leave perhaps for
ever, as it lay calm and smiling in the sunshine of the early morning,
notwithstanding all the destruction of the preceding night, and the
gloomy prospects of the future, with the same peaceful indifference
wherewith some have supposed the disembodied spirit to look upon the
wild passions and contentions of the world.
As he gazed, however, he saw the figure of a girl seated upon the
trunk of a felled beech-tree, which lay close beneath the terrace, and
instantly perceiving that it was that of Arrah Neil, he beckoned to
her to come up to him. The girl did so without hesitation: and as she
climbed the stone steps which led from the park he watched her
countenance, to see if the moody and abstracted fit to which she was
frequently subject was still upon her, or had passed away.
There was no trace of it left. Her beautiful eyes were clear and
bright, and full of intelligence, though her brow was grave and even
sad, and her look was raised towards him with a gentle, imploring,
deprecating expression, as it she had in some way offended and sought
forgiveness.
"Well, my poor Arrah," said the young nobleman, in a kind tone, "I
fear you were much frightened last night."
"I was frightened, my lord," she answered, bending down her eyes, "but
not much; I knew it was for the best, and hoped that it would soon be
extinguished."
"All things are for the best," replied Lord Walton. "God forbid that I
should doubt it, Arrah. Yet this has been a severe loss and a great
grief to me; for I cannot see the house of my fathers so injured
without regret. It is not that many invaluable and rare things have
been destroyed, but that mementos of the past are gone with
them--things the sight of which recalled the days of boyhood--places
stored with a thousand memories, ay, and a thousand associations with
times before my own. I can no longer sit in that room, Arrah, and
think of those who tenanted it in former years, or of all the many
scenes that have there taken place."
"I am very sorry for it indeed," replied Arrah Neil; "but yet----" and
she paused, leaving her sentence unconcluded.
"Tell me, Arrah," continued Lord Walton, not heeding her broken reply,
"when you had retired to rest last night, which they tell me was about
nine, did you hear any noise in the tower, or any one going up the
stairs which pass close behind the room where you slept?"
She gazed at him for a moment in silence, with her large bright eyes
fixed somewhat sadly upon his countenance, then shook her head and
answered, "No one."
The young lord remarked the peculiarity of her look, and added, "I am
sure you would answer truly, Arrah, for your poor grandfather, who
gave you an education so much above that which persons far higher in
rank bestow upon their children, taught you I know always to adhere to
truth. Yet hear me, Arrah; I have always tried to be kind to you and
yours; I have been fond of you from your childhood. Now I suspect that
this fire was not the work of accident, I cannot find that the door at
the foot of the tower was closed last night. That enemies were abroad
I have too good reason to know; and you, too, warned me yourself that
danger was at hand----"
"Oh, but it was not that!--it was not that!" cried Arrah Neil; "the
danger I feared for you was not of fire, Charles Walton. Ask me not to
tell you, for they made me swear I would not before they would let me
go."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the young nobleman, gazing at her thoughtfully.
"Well, I will not ask you then."
"Do not! do not!" she cried, "for I could not refuse you anything; and
that would be wrong after I have sworn: I would lay down my life for
you, indeed I would; but you would not wish me to break my word."
"No, no!" replied Lord Walton; "but to return. I suspect, as I have
said, that this destruction has not been committed by accident."
"Not entirely," said Arrah Neil, looking down.
"Not entirely!" exclaimed the peer. "Then you know how it
happened--you know who did it--Arrah, speak, who was it? That, at
least, I may ask."
The poor girl trembled terribly, but then, in a low sad voice she
answered, "It was I."
"You?--you?" cried Lord Walton, gazing at her sternly, while his lip
quivered in the attempt to suppress the emotions within him. The girl
answered nothing, and after a struggle with himself he waved his hand,
saying, "I forgive you, my poor girl, you did it when you were not
yourself. Tell no one else, Arrah--the secret is safe with me;" and he
turned away, lest one harsh word should mingle with the kinder ones he
had spoken.
When he had gone some ten or twelve paces, however, Arrah Neil darted
after him, caught his hand, and pressed her beautiful lips upon it.
"Do not abandon me, Charles Walton," she said. "Do not cast me off and
hate me. Tell me, would you rather see all those ruins, and lose all
you have lost, or be tomorrow a prisoner in the dark Tower of London,
perhaps never to ride the green fields again while you live?"
Lord Walton paused with a look of bewildered inquiry; but then
suddenly a light rose up in his eyes, and laying his hand upon Arrah
Neil's shoulder, he said, "Thank you, Arrah! thank you. 'Tis a wild
way of deliverance. Yet thank you, dear child. You meant it well, and
it has succeeded. But here are people coming. Go back to Annie; we
must not leave you behind us."