While such misadventures had been the lot of the Earl of Beverley,
Captain Barecolt had ridden on unopposed and peaceably to the "Swan"
Inn. He was in some apprehension, indeed, lest he should encounter
worthy Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, at the house of good Mrs. White; but
his mind was prepared to meet any emergency, and therefore he would
not be turned from his course by the fear of "any Dry that ever yet
was born." Alighting then at the door, he threw the rein of his horse
over a hook provided for that especial purpose, and then, mounting the
steps, looked in through the panes of glass in the door, which, to say
the truth, afforded him no very clear insight into the passage beyond,
as each separate square, being manufactured in a somewhat rude
fashion, was furnished with a thick green knot or bump in the centre,
which greatly impeded the view. All seemed clear, however, and
marvellously silent; and, having carried his inspection as far as he
judged necessary, the renowned captain opened the door and walked in.
As soon as he did so, he perceived the good landlady seated in her
little glass-case, alone, and busily engaged in hemming a wimple for
her own proper person. She raised her eyes, as usual, at the sound of
the opening door, and her face lighted up at the sight of the long
limbs that presented themselves, in a manner which showed the
illustrious commander that no danger was to be apprehended.
Approaching, then, with a gallant air, Captain Barecolt
unceremoniously entered the parlour, and saluted the fair hostess, who
expressed herself right glad to see him, asking him a thousand
questions about "the dear young lady and her adventures on the road."
"All in good time, Mrs. White--all in good time," answered Captain
Barecolt. "To-night, God willing, I will give you a true and
particular account of all that has happened since last we met; but now
I have other things to think of. In the first place, my mouth is as
dry as a sick dog's nose, and I would fain have a chopin of something
to moisten it."
"That you shall, captain, in a minute," replied the landlady. "You
look dusty and tired, as if you had ridden hard."
"And so I am, sweet hostess," answered Barecolt; "and the dust is not
more on my garments than between my teeth. My tongue is as parched as
a bowl of split peas. Do you not hear it rattle? But do not go
yourself for the wine, Mrs. White. Transfer that function to one of
your nymphs, and listen to me."
"La, captain! I have no nymphs," answered the landlady, half offended;
but our hero waved his hand, saying--
"Well, your maidens then, Mrs. White. Call Sally, and then answer me
two or three questions; but first send some one to stable my horse,
which is at the door, and, being a modest beast, may as well be
removed from the lewd gaze of the townsfolk."
All was performed according to his command; and when Mrs. White
returned, Captain Barecolt proceeded, after a deep draught, to put his
questions.
"First and foremost, Mrs. White," he said, "what of old Dry?"
"Lord, sir! he is up-stairs, sick in bed!" replied Mrs. White.
"There let him lie, and be the bed on him, white-livered renegade!"
said Captain Barecolt. "Then he did not discover that you had aided
and abetted in the escape of our fair demoiselle?"
"Oh, not a whit!" replied the landlady. "He was in a mighty rage, to
be sure, at first, and he had search made, and a great fuss; but it
all ended in nothing, and I managed slily, pretending to help with all
my might; so that he grew quite fond and familiar--the nasty old worm!
Howsomever, he went out of the gates one day, leaving all his things
here, and what happened I don't know; but he came back the next
morning, as dull and as dirty-looking as a mixen, took to his bed
directly, and has had a doctor at him ever since. I think something
must have frightened him sadly, for he has been constantly whining and
praying, and the doctor said he had had a turn; but he is much better
to-day."
"So far so well, Mrs. White," said Barecolt; "but we must now look to
other matters. Do you know aught about Mr. O'Donnell? for, if
possible, I must see him tonight."
"I should think you would find him, sir," answered the hostess, "for
he keeps himself a great deal at home just now. These are sad times in
Hull, sir. There is great suspicion about; and every one whom they
fancy to be what they call a malignant is pointed at and watched night
and day; and even a poor widow woman like me they cannot help looking
after, as if I were a regiment of soldiers; so that customers are
afraid to come."
"Well, what of O'Donnell? what of O'Donnell?" demanded Captain
Barecolt. "What has this to do with him, my good hostess?"
"Why, bless you, captain don't you know that people say he is a
Papist?" exclaimed Mrs. White; "and so they are likely to be more
sharp upon him than any one else: that is to say, not the governor,
who is very fond of him, people say, because he supplies him with
Dantzic and other strong waters better than he can get at home; but
since Sir John has been ill of the gout, the colonel, his son, rules
everything here in Hull; and a hard rule is his for every one but
Roundheads. They may do as they like; some men may lie in bed and
sleep, whilst others must get up early in the morning."
All this was news to Captain Barecolt, and news of a very unpleasant
character, which made him ponder deeply for several minutes. Being of
an active and inquiring turn of mind, he had not left his leisure time
unemployed since he quitted Hull; and partly by no very definite
hints, sewn together by surmises, and partly by open avowals and
accidental conversations, he had been led to the conclusion that
some very intimate communication had been opened between Sir John
Hotham and the Earl of Beverley, which the illness of the former and
the new state of things in the town might sadly derange. He longed
eagerly to gain some intelligence of the proceedings of his noble
fellow-traveller; and though he had a sufficient portion of the free
companion in his character to act upon his own judgment, with very
little deference for the commands he received, when it suited his own
purpose, yet he had also sufficient of the old soldier in him to obey
orders punctually when he could do no better. He therefore resolved to
set out for O'Donnell's house at once, though he could not bring his
mind to do so without draining another can; and while the worthy
landlady went to draw it with her own fair hands, he sat pondering
over what was to be done next, with no inconsiderable misgivings in
regard to the termination of their expedition. At one time, indeed, he
thought of cutting the whole matter very short, walking to the
governor's house, demanding to see Colonel Hotham, running him through
the body with his Toledo, and, with the assistance of the more loyal
inhabitants, taking possession of the town in the king's name. It
seemed to the eyes of imagination an exploit worthy of a Barecolt; but
reflection suggested to him various little objections, which made him
abandon his scheme, though he did it with reluctance. The vision of
becoming governor of Hull--a post which the king, he thought, could
never refuse to grant him, if he took the city with his own right
hand--was just fading away from his mind, when the outer door of the
inn was thrown vehemently open, and some one entered the passage with
a quick and agitated step. Captain Barecolt looked up, and gazed forth
from Mrs. White's glass-case, at the same time laying his hand upon
his sword, for he was full of desperate and sanguinary thoughts. In a
moment, however, his countenance lighted up, and exclaiming, "Ah,
Diggory Falgate! honest Diggory Falgate!--something may perhaps be
done now--his knowledge of the place and the people may aid us at this
pinch, and my hand shall execute what his information suggests"--he
opened the door, and went out to meet the poor painter, extending his
hand to him in friendly guise.
Diggory Falgate started back as if he had seen an apparition; but the
next moment he grasped Barecolt's hand, and exclaimed--
"This is lucky indeed! Who would have thought to see you here,
captain? But listen to me. I have got a story to tell you that will
make your hair stand on end;--two, indeed, but one first, for that
presses; and if something is not done immediately, the earl is a dead
man!"
"What earl?" demanded Barecolt, in horror and consternation.
"Why, our earl, to be sure!" replied Falgate, walking on into Mrs.
White's _sanctum sanctorum_. "The Earl of Beverley, no other; and that
Saracen of a colonel will have him shot to-morrow morning, as sure as
I'm a living man, if something is not done to-night to prevent it!"
"I'll cut his throat first!" exclaimed Barecolt, half drawing his
sword. "But he dare not--he dare not, Master Falgate. 'Tis all
nonsense."
"He shot two men yesterday morning by the water-side," replied
Falgate. "Didn't he, Mrs. White?"
The latter words were addressed to the worthy landlady, just as she
returned with a fresh chopin; and while Captain Barecolt drained it
down at one single indignant draught, she confirmed the poor painter's
account, saying--
"Ay, that he did, the bloodthirsty brute! and better men than himself,
too."
"What's to be done now?" asked Barecolt. "The only way will be to go
and put him to death at once."
"You will only get yourself killed, and do no good," exclaimed the
painter and landlady together; and then Falgate, proceeding alone,
went on to add, "There is but one way to help the noble lord, captain,
if we can but arrive at it, and that is, to get some one to tell Sir
John Hotham himself. He'd never suffer all this to go on, if he knew
it; and it is only since he fell ill the day before yesterday morning
that his son dared to go on so."
"I'll write him a note," said Barecolt.
"Phoo! that will never do," replied the painter, "unless you can get
some one to deliver it to Sir John himself."
"I am talking without guide, indeed," said the gallant captain, who
began to feel that his nonsense was a little too gross even for the
intellects of the landlady and the painter. "I do not yet know the
whole circumstances. Pray, Master Falgate, have the goodness to relate
all you know, and how you know it; and then I will decide upon my plan
from the intelligence I receive. Be so good as to avoid superfluous
particulars, and yet be sufficiently minute in your details to afford
me a distinct knowledge of the facts."
Assuming a grave and sententious look of wisdom, he sat with his hands
folded upon his knees, while Diggory Falgate went on to inform his
auditors, that he had been arrested while entering the town three days
before, and placed in the custody of a body of the train-bands, with
some of whom he was personally acquainted and on very friendly terms.
He had remained in terror of his life under their guard till that
evening, receiving accounts from time to time of the wrath and fury
which Colonel Hotham was exercising upon the unfortunate Cavaliers of
the place, and employing all the interest he could make to obtain his
own liberation. That afternoon he had been brought in, he said, not
knowing whether the next word was to be life or death, when, to his
surprise and grief, he beheld the earl in the presence of the
governor's son. He then related all the particulars which he had
witnessed, and a new consultation took place, which bade fair to have
no end, when suddenly the worthy hostess exclaimed--
"Mr. O'Donnell's the man! He can do it. He can do it, I tell you, when
no one else can."
"Do what?" exclaimed Captain Barecolt. "Prithee, my excellent lady,
what can he do?"
"Why, get in to speak with Sir John Hotham," rejoined the worthy
landlady, "and tell him all about it."
"Then, as I said before," exclaimed the renowned captain, "I will go
to him this minute. Come along, Falgate--you shall go with me, for
there's no time to be lost."
"That there isn't," replied Diggory Falgate. "I'm your man, captain."
And away they went, begging Mrs. White not to go to bed till they
returned.