The parliamentarian looked at Captain Barecolt, and Captain Barecolt
looked at the parliamentarian. The former had a cynical sort of smile
on his countenance, as if he recognised in the worthy captain a
personage whom he had seen before under different circumstances; but
Barecolt's face was a perfect blank, at least if that which bore so
prominent a gnomon could be called so. At all events it said nothing;
there was not the slightest glance of recognition in his eyes; there
was not the smallest curl of consciousness round his mouth. He looked
full in the officer's face, with the stare of a stranger, for very
nearly a minute, and then civilly asked him if he would not sit down
and join their party.
"No, I thank you," replied the parliamentarian, with the same sneering
smile; "but I think I shall ask you to join ours."
"I am much obliged, my friend," replied Barecolt, without any change
of countenance; "but I have nearly dined."
"Dined or not dined," rejoined the other, "you must come along with
me."
"How now?" cried Barecolt, rising with a look of indignation; "I
thought, from your look, that you were a God-fearing and worthy man;
but if you be, as I now judge from your words, one of the malignant
fermenters of strife in Israel, I tell you you are in the wrong part
of the country to play your pranks, even if you had a company of
swaggering rakehelly troopers at your heels."
"Come, come," replied the other, "I am what I seem, and what you know
me right well to be. Did you ever hear of a certain Captain Batten,
sir? Were you ever at such a place as Bishop's Merton?"
"Of a Captain Batten I have heard when I was in London," replied
Barecolt, boldly, "and I have seen him too, but you are not he; for,
in the first place, he is a godly and well-disposed person, and in the
next place I do not recollect you. Then, as for Bishop's Merton, the
very name of it is naught, and smacks of Prelacy and Popery."
"I am not Captain Batten, certainly," replied the other; "but I was
cornet of his troop when you were at Bishop's Merton, and I watched
you well along the road for forty miles and more, after you had made
him prisoner. You have changed your dress, but I know you, Captain
Barecolt."
"Captain Barecolt!" cried our worthy friend, lifting up his hands and
eyes with a look of astonishment and indignation; "am I never to have
done with Captain Barecolt? This is the third time within these four
days that I have been mistaken for that good-for-nothing, worthless
fellow. If ever I meet him I will cut off that nose of his, or he
shall cut off mine, that there may be no more mistaking between us.
However, sir, if you are really, as you say, a cornet of Captain
Batten's troop, I am glad to meet you: there is my hand, and I am
quite prepared to show you to your satisfaction that I am not the
swaggering malignant you take me for, but a poor officer of French
extraction, whose parents took refuge in this land during the
persecutions of those who fought as I do for the cause of true faith
and freedom of conscience. My name is Jersval, and you must, most
likely, have heard of it, as I have for the last three months been
assisting that worthy and pious man, Sir John Hotham, in strengthening
the fortifications of Hull."
The officer looked at him for a moment or two with a bewildered stare;
for, though he thought he could have sworn to the person of the man
who had been pointed out to him, not many weeks before, as Captain
Barecolt, a notorious malignant, yet the captain's coolness and
effrontery were so great as almost to overbear his belief. He was not
convinced, indeed, but he was staggered; and being somewhat of a
dogged nature, he resolved to resist giving credence to mere
assertions, however boldly made.
"Come, come," he said, "you say you can give me proofs. Where are
they? I know your face quite well. The proofs--the proofs, man, or you
must away with me to Hull."
"Be that at your peril, sir," replied Barecolt, with an air of
dignity. I am travelling on business of importance for the governor,
and I will resist being stopped to the shedding of blood. As to the
proofs, here they are. You probably know Sir John Hotham's signature;
and as he spoke, he drew forth from his pocket the pass which he had
obtained from the governor of Hull.
So well had he combined all the particulars of his story, that every
word in the pass tallied exactly with what he had said before. He was
called therein the French officer, Captain Jersval, employed upon the
fortifications; and all the authorities of the town and its
dependencies, as well as all persons well affected to the state, were
enjoined to give him free passage, aid, and assistance on all lawful
occasions. The parliamentarian, as he read, became more and more
bewildered, and indeed somewhat doubtful of Captain Barecolt's
identity. The landlord also joined in on behalf of his guest, and
vouched for his having behaved himself in a very comely and discreet
manner. The Roundhead was, however, of a stubborn and stiff-necked
race, as I have before hinted. He was far more inclined to believe his
own eyes than any piece of paper in the world; and although he read
the pass twice, he looked at Captain Barecolt often, each time
muttering between his teeth an expression of conviction that he was
right after all.
"Well, it does not signify," he said aloud, at length; "you shall go
to Hull. You may have stolen this pass, or forged it, for aught I
know. Unless some one can swear that you are the same man here spoken
of, back you shall troop."
"That I can swear," cried Diggory Falgate, starting up, and forgetting
his companion's injunctions to silence.
"And who, in the fiend's name, may you be?" demanded the parliamentary
soldier, growing hot; for Barecolt had by this time quietly freed his
long sword from the sheath, and placed his back towards the corner,
giving a glance as he did so to the window, across which two other
figures on horseback passed at the moment.
"Who am I?" said Falgate; "a citizen of Hull, sir; and I am ready to
swear that I saw that gentleman walking and talking with the governor
yesterday, and that he is the same to whom that pass was given."
"Go to, go to!" said the parliamentarian scornfully; "you seem some
mechanic, who can know nought of such matters. Meddle with what
concerns you, good man. Landlord, call in two of my troopers."
"Be it at your peril and theirs," replied Barecolt, in a voice of
extraordinary loudness, bringing the point of his weapon towards the
chest of his opponent who had taken a step forward. "Whoever says I am
not Captain Jersval, lately employed by Sir John Hotham on the
fortification of Hull, is a liar, and the consequence be upon his own
head."
Just as he was pronouncing in a stentorian voice this recapitulation
of the qualities and titles he thought fit to assume, and while Arrah
Neil was drawing back to the farther side of the room with some alarm,
but with the profound silence she had preserved throughout this scene,
the landlord opened the door to obey the order he had received; but he
was encountered at the threshold by two gentlemen, whom, to say truth,
Captain Barecolt had seen a minute or two before, crossing the window
on horseback. Now our worthy friend, at his heart, did not know
whether to be sorry or rejoice at their presence, for there was much
matter for very mingled feelings in their sudden appearance.
The first face that presented itself was that of Lord Beverley; and
with all Barecolt's bad qualities he had a certain degree of
chivalrous generosity in his nature, which made him unwilling to have
another engaged in the same awkward scrape as himself, especially
when, as in the case of the earl, many important interests he feared
might be periled by his capture, while his own apprehension would
principally affect his own neck. He had therefore shouted aloud, as
soon as he saw his noble companion dismount to enter the inn, for the
purpose of giving him some notice of what was going on within; nor had
his words failed to catch the earl's ear, for the distance from the
door of the room to the door of the house was but a step, and the
windows were open.
If, however, the sight of the earl caused Captain Barecolt as much
alarm as pleasure, the face of the personage who followed was anything
but satisfactory in his eyes; for the last time he had seen it was in
earnest and apparently secret conference with Sir John Hotham; and our
friend had no means whatsoever of knowing whether his evasion from
Hull had become public before the earl and his companion had set out.
What was his surprise, however, when Lord Beverley advanced towards
him, holding out his hand and exclaiming, "Ah! Captain Jersval, I was
afraid I should have missed you, for we came by the cross-roads. But
what is all this? Sword in hand, my gallant captain! What is all this,
sir?" he continued, turning to the parliamentary officer with an air
of authority. "I hope you are not molesting this gentleman, who is a
very grave and respectable person, and not one to draw his sword upon
anybody without just occasion."
Barecolt was for once in his life wise enough not to say a word. He
did not venture to hint at his feats in the Cevennes; he said nothing
of Navarre or Arragon; he uttered not the name of Rochelle, but
quietly left the earl to settle it all his own way.
Falgate, too, was overpowered at the sudden recognition of Captain
Barecolt as Captain Jersval, and the Roundhead officer looked foolish
and confounded, muttering for a moment or two something about "a
mistake," till he recovered himself sufficiently to return to his
point and declare, "that if ever human eyes were to be trusted, the
man calling himself Jersval was no other than one Captain Barecolt, a
notorious malignant."
"And pray, sir, do you know me?" demanded the earl; "for you seem to
be much more knowing than your neighbours."
"No, I never saw you before," replied the man, bluffly.
"But I know you, Master Stumpborough," said the earl's companion,
advancing in turn. "At least, if I am not mistaken, you are the man I
was told to look for while accompanying this gentleman on his road.
You are the cornet of Batten's troop of horse, are you not?"
"The same, sir," replied the other with a stiff bow; "it seems we
shall get at the truth of the matter now."
"It is only your stupid thick head that has prevented your getting at
it before, Master Stumpborough," replied the gentleman. "This person
whom you persist in calling Barecolt--you must be a bare colt yourself
for your pains--is Captain Jersval, who has been employed by Sir John
Hotham in strengthening the defences of our town, and who is now going
on with this gentleman upon business of importance. We have been
looking for him all along the road; so, if you had stopped or injured
him, you would have lost your ears for your pains."
"I told him so! I told him so! I told him so!" cried Barecolt, at
every pause in the other's words.
But the gentleman from Hull proceeded to hand a small paper to the
parliamentarian. "There is a word or two for you from Sir John. Now
get ready to march on without further delay. I will return with you. I
think, sir," he continued, addressing the earl, "you will not want me
any more."
"No, I thank you, sir," replied Lord Beverley; "I can find my way on
with my companions here. Commend me to Sir John, and accept my best
thanks for your company so far."
While these few words were passing between the royalist nobleman and
his companion of the road, the Roundhead officer had been spelling
through Sir John Hotham's note, looking both puzzled with the writing
and confounded with all that had lately taken place. When he had done,
however, he thought fit to make an apology to Barecolt for taking him
for the man he really was.
"I will never believe my eyes again, sir," he said, "for I would have
sworn that you were that blaspheming ribaldy varlet, Barecolt, only
dressed in a brown suit and with a steeple-crowned hat on. You are as
like as two peas; only, now I think of it, he may be a little taller.
But I hope you do not bear malice, sir; now I know who you are, I am
satisfied; I only wished to do my duty."
"I certainly do not thank you, sir, for taking me, a peaceable and
God-fearing man, for a blaspheming ribaldy varlet," replied Barecolt,
with a solemn air, "but I forgive you, sir, I forgive you! Every man
needs forgiveness more or less, and so farewell; but use your eyes to
better purpose another time, and if ever you see Captain Barecolt,
tell him that when next he and Jersval meet, I will set such a mark
upon him that there shall be no more mistakes; and so fare you well."
A few words had in the meanwhile passed in a low tone between the earl
and his companion from Hull, and the latter then took his leave,
seeing the commander of the party of troopers and the landlord of the
house out before him. Barecolt immediately turned a glance full of
merriment to Lord Beverley; but that nobleman with a grave face put
his finger to his lips, and then, seating himself at the table,
said--"Well, Captain Jersval, by your leave I will share your dinner,
which, by the fulness of the plates, seems to have been somewhat
unpropitiously interrupted."
"Certainly, certainly, sir," said Barecolt, resuming his seat at the
head of the table. "Come, Falgate; come, Mistress Arrah Neil."
At the latter name the earl started, and gazed at Arrah for a moment;
but took no further notice, and only whispered to Barecolt, "Make
haste!"