Kitabı oku: «No Quarter!», sayfa 23
Chapter Fifty Eight
A Messenger Despatched
The girls had gone upstairs, their maid, Gwenthian, attending upon them to dress for dinner, of which something had been said to the Prince when parting with him at the door.
Once inside the dressing-room, however, Sabrina, instead of proceeding to change her attire, made direct for an escritoire, the flap of which she pulled open. Then seating herself before it, she drew a sheet of paper from its drawer, and commenced writing with nervous haste.
A letter it was of no very great length, and in a few seconds finished. But before folding it up she turned to the maid saying, —
“Gwenth! Go down to the back door, and stay about there till you see cadger Jack’s sister. I expect her to come up to the house; and if nothing has hindered, she should be here very soon now. When she arrives bring her to me, without losing a moment. Do it all quietly.”
Gwenth signified her comprehension of the orders, and was about starting to execute them, when her mistress said, “Stay!” Then, after reflecting a moment, added, —
“Go into the kitchen, and tell the cook dinner is not to be served before Winny goes away – that is, if she come. In any case, it’s not to be put on the table till she has further directions about it.”
“But must we really dine along with him?” asked Vaga, as the maid passed out of the room. She had commenced making her toilette, and, inattentive to what her sister had been doing, only overheard what she said about the dinner.
“Either that or give offence. I had to speak of dinner – could not help it – and the Prince will expect us to sit at the table.”
“I’d rather sit down with Beelzebub. Oh, Sab! you can’t conceive what a vile, vulgar man – Prince though he be.”
“Yes I can; know it. Richard has told me all about him. But we must bear, and dissemble; do our best to entertain both him and his officers. I think we needn’t fear any special rudeness just yet; and if we can keep them to their good behaviour for twelve hours I ask no more.”
“Why do you say twelve hours?”
“Read that.”
It was the note she had just written; and, soon as the other had run her eyes over it, she added, —
“Now you understand?”
“I do. But how is it to be taken there?”
“By Winny. It’s just for that I gave Rees orders to send her up.”
“Couldn’t Rees have taken it himself? On horseback he would go much faster.”
“True, he might, if permitted to start. But he wouldn’t be – not the least likelihood of it. If he return to the house – which I hope he won’t – they’ll not let him leave it again. But Win will do better every way. We can trust her, and for speed she’ll get to her journey’s end quick as any courier on horseback. She knows all the short cuts and by-ways through the Forest. That will be in her favour to save time – besides safety otherwise. The fear I have is her not being at home. What a pity we didn’t know of their coming, when she was with us in the morning!”
“Perhaps not so much,” rejoined Vaga, whose subtle ear had caught the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs; two sets of them, as told by the lighter and heavier tread. “That’s Win now coming up with Gwenth. I’m almost sure of it.”
In a few seconds after both were sure of it, as the opened door discovered their maid outside on the landing with the cadgeress close behind.
“Oh, Win! we’re so glad!” exclaimed the sisters in a breath, as she was ushered into the room.
“Glad o’ what, my ladies?” asked the woman, with a puzzled look. She did not understand how they could be joyful under the circumstances.
“At your being here,” answered Sabrina. “We were afraid you might not be at home, or unable to come to us.”
“Well, mistress, I wor at home, an’ comed soon’s I got your message. But my comin’ wor nigh all bein’ for nothin’.”
“How so?”
“The Cavalière sodgers warn’t for lettin’ me in o’ the house, nor yet through the back gate. They ha’ got sentries all roun’. Besides, the yard be full o’ them wi’ their horses, an’ their imperence too.”
“They were impudent to you?”
“’Deed, yes, my ladies. Swored at me, an’ said I mauna set foot inside the gate.”
“You see what courteous guests we’ve got, sister?” said Vaga. “The attendants of a Prince! I thought it would end so.”
“Me tried to get past they,” continued the cadgeress, “by tellin’ a bit fib. I sayed us wor the washwoman come for the clothes.”
“How clever!” exclaimed Vaga, admiringly.
“Not much o’ that, mistress. Anyways it warn’t no use. Them wouldn’t allow me in after all; if’t hadn’t been for a young officer, who chanced be near, an’ ordered they let me pass. He spoke me kindly too, which wor the strangest thing o’ all.”
“Why strange?” asked Sabrina.
“On account o’ who him wor, my lady.”
“Who?”
“Captain Trevor, the one’s used to come to Hollymead fores the war.”
She had no need to particularise which. The sisters knew, and exchanged glances; that of the elder showing a peculiar intelligence.
“Odd o’ he bein’ civil to me,” pursued the woman. “Him must ’a knowed we well enough, an’ had remembrance o’ what happened on the Cat’s Hill two years ago. I tolt you about it, my ladies.”
“You did,” said Sabrina. “And it does seem a little strange of Captain Trevor not being, spiteful if he recognised you, as he must have done. But,” she added, becoming impatient, “no matter for that now. Time is pressing, and we want you to do us a service, Win. You will?”
“Why needs thee ask if us will?”
“Because there’s some danger in it.”
“That be no reason; and don’t speak o’ the danger. Please to say what’s weeshed done, Mistress Sabrina; an’ ’t shall be did if in the power o’ we to do’t.”
“This then, dear Winny. We want it taken to Gloucester.”
She held out what appeared a spill for lighting pipe or candle. It was the note she had just written, folded and doubled-folded till no longer recognisable as a sheet of paper, much less a letter. For all the cadgeress knew it to be such; and not the first of its kind she had received from the same hands, for surreptitious conveyance.
“It shall be tookt theer,” she said, in a determined way, “if the Cavalières don’t take’t from me on the way. Them won’t find it without some searchin’, though.”
Saying which, she made further reduction in the dimensions of the sheet by double knotting it; then thrust it under the coils of her luxuriant hair, and by a dexterous play of fingers so fixed it that, only undoing the plaits, could it be discovered.
The letter bore no address, nor was name signed to it. Neither inquired the cadgeress to whom it was to be delivered. Enough that Mistress Sabrina had given it to her, and it was for Gloucester. She knew there was a man there it must be meant for; she herself, for a special reason, being always well posted up as to the whereabouts of Sir Richard Walwyn and his Foresters.
“Thee weesh me to start immediate I suppose, my lady?”
“At once – soon as you can get off. How long will it take you to get to Gloucester?”
“Well, for usual me an’ Jack be’s ’bout four hours fra Ruardean. But I once’t did the journey myself in a bit less’n three, an’ can go t’ same again.”
“It’s now a little after six – only ten minutes,” said Sabrina, consulting her three-cornered watch. “Do you think you could get there by nine?”
“Sure o’ that; an afores, if us be alive, an’ nothin’ happen to stop we on the way.”
“Oh! I hope there won’t, dear Winny. Time is of such importance; so much depending upon it. Ay, it may be lives.”
She leant forward, and whispered some words into the woman’s ear; either a last pressing injunction, or, it might be, promise of reward for the service to be performed. Whatever it was, on the face of the Forest Amazon there was an expression of ready assent; then a humorous smile, as she made haste to be gone, saying, —
“Now, Gwenthy! gie us the clothes for the wash!”
The maid, as her mistress, looked a little puzzled. But quickly comprehending, all three set to collecting such lingerie as they could lay hands on, soon making up a bundle big enough to represent a week’s consignment for the laundry.
Which the pretended washerwoman having hoisted on her head, started downstairs with it; Gwenthian, by direction, going along to see her out of doors, assist her in cajoling the sentries, and bring back report whether these had been safely passed.
Chapter Fifty Nine
Brought Home a Prisoner
After the cadgeress had gone out of the room the anxiety of the sisters was, for a while, of the keenest. The first flush of excitement over, they saw danger in what they had done. Should their messenger be stopped outside, and the note found upon her, there was that in it which could not fail to compromise them. Moreover its contents had reference to an important matter, a design that would be all defeated.
Luckily they had not long to endure suspense. A light tread on the stairs told of Gwenthian returning; and as she appeared in the doorway, kept open for her, the joyous expression on her face betokened a successful issue to the affair she had been sent upon.
“Win’s got safe away?” was her triumphant announcement, as she tripped lightly into the room.
“Good!” exclaimed both, Sabrina going on to inquire particulars.
“Did they let her pass without any questioning?”
“No, indeed, mistress. The sentries at the back gate – there are two at it – stopped her; and one pulled the bundle off her head. They were going to open and examine it, when Captain Trevor came up, and ordered them to put it back again. Then he passed her through the gate, saying something – like in a friendly way.”
“Did you hear what he said?”
“Only to the soldiers; telling them to let the washerwoman alone. But Win gave them a bit of her tongue too, as if she was real angry?”
“You saw her well away?”
“Yes, mistress; beyond where there were any of the people. She took the path to the falconer’s lodge, where she’s to leave the things.”
“Why leave them there?”
“Because she don’t intend returning to her own cottage. That, she said, would delay her; besides, some of the soldiers might be straying along the Ruardean road, and stop her again. She’s gone the way through the woods.”
The ladies felt relieved. Win would manage it if woman could; and should she succeed in reaching Gloucester, they might ere long look for other relief from the dangers that environed them.
But there was something to be done meanwhile; their unwelcome visitors to be entertained. And how to extend hospitality to such was a perplexing problem. Not only their numbers, but their character made it so. The common soldiers could take care of themselves outside; the signs and sounds told they were already doing so; but the Prince himself, and the officers in his suite, would have to be treated in a different way. Dinner had been spoken of – supper as called then – and this was the first thing to be thought about.
“Go down again, Gwenth,” commanded Sabrina, acting mistress of the mansion, “tell the cook to set it upon the table as soon as it is ready.”
“For how many, my lady?”
“Oh! I can’t tell. Let her count for, say a score; and send in all the eatables she can command.”
As the maid went kitchenward to deliver the somewhat indefinite directions, her young mistresses turned to making their toilette at length and at last. And, perhaps, never was one made more reluctantly, or less elaborately, for a Prince of the blood Royal. Little cared they how they might look in his eyes, or any other eyes that were to be upon them. For their hearts were full of heaviness; oppressed by keen anxiety about their father – still apprehending his return home. They knew how much he was compromised with the King’s party; had been ever since the rebellion began, and before. For, ere blow had been struck, or sword drawn, had he not resisted the loan by Privy Seal? And here again at Hollymead were the two men who had attempted to levy that loan upon him – Colonel Lunsford and Captain Reginald Trevor! They would be satisfied with no money contribution now; but meant making him their prisoner, with some severe punishment for his “delinquency.”
So feared his daughters at that hour; and, as a consequence, had little care or thought about anything besides; even of the peril impending over themselves.
“It’s strange, Rej Trevor behaving in such a way to Win,” remarked Vaga, as she stood before the mirror adjusting her rebellious tresses. “He couldn’t help knowing her, as she herself says. Once seen she’s not the sort to be easily forgotten. And after that encounter they had on the Cat’s Hill! Very strange, isn’t it?”
“Yes, indeed,” assented Sabrina; “I’ve been wondering at it myself, and at something besides.”
“What besides?”
“His behaviour in every way. He seems altogether changed.”
“I’ve had no opportunity of observing it. What makes you think so?”
“While you were apart with the Prince we had some conversation. He talks quite differently from his old frivolous way. And no more has he the swaggering manner which used to be so offensive.”
“Then he’s not the conceited Cavalier of twelve months ago?”
“Anything but that. Had I not known him in the past I should set him down for a modest young fellow, of rather melancholy temperament; or more like one who had some sorrow preying upon him.”
“What can it be, I wonder?” She had her conjecture as to what, but forbore declaring it. She had not forgotten – how could she? – his confession, made in passionate appeal, at their last interview. She knew his indifference at their parting was the purest affectation, and that the fish he had gone to catch had not been caught.
Recalling that scene, her sister could have answered the question with a near approach to the truth. But she, too, retentive of her real thoughts, but said in careless rejoinder, —
“Oh! I suppose the events of the war, which have had a saddening effect on everybody.”
“Not everybody. These self-invited guests of ours are at least an exception. Listen to them!” By this the officers of the Prince’s escort had entered the house; and from their loud talk and laughter were evidently making themselves at home and free with everything. They could be heard issuing commands, and calling out orders to the servants, as though the place were a public inn.
“Like as not,” continued Vaga, still incredulous about Reginald Trevor’s conversion, “like as not your ‘modest young fellow of rather melancholy temperament’ is laughing among the loudest of them. I fancy I hear his voice.”
“No, Vag, I don’t think you do. I can’t.”
“Well, may be not. And it’s to be hoped he’s sobered, as you say. He needed it. Strange if he is though, in the retinue of Prince Rupert, whose precept and example are more likely to have a reverse tendency. Possibly Master Rej is only humble in the presence of the High Mightiness, his master. When the big dog is by, the little one has to be on its good behaviour.”
“I scarce think it’s that; and you may be wronging him.”
“If I am I shall be glad to know it. But how odd all this?” she added, yielding to a sudden recollection. “Time was when you, Sab, were all the other way about Rej Trevor; used to caution me against him!”
She had faced towards her sister, and stood with hands full of loose hair that fell as a cataract of molten gold over her ivory shoulders.
“True, I did. And with reasons then. Our father was against him more than I; which may have influenced me.”
“And now?”
“Now I admit never having believed him so very bad – I mean at heart.”
“Oh! nobody ever said he had a very bad heart. His head was more blamed for getting him ill repute.”
“His habits rather.”
“Say habits, then. But why are you thus defending him?”
“Because of his seeming so friendly to us. All he said to me just now, with his manner, was as one who felt sorry at our being thus intruded on. He knows it’s not agreeable to us – cannot be. And his behaviour to Win – that confirms my belief that he has no hostile feelings to us.”
“Don’t be so confident till we’re sure she’s safe off. It may be only a trap to catch us. How know we he hasn’t followed to bring her back again, and so win favour from his princely patron. I wouldn’t wonder if it’s something of that kind. For in what other way is his conduct to be accounted for?”
“Heaven help us if it be that! But I won’t – can’t believe it.”
“Well, we shall soon know, now. If Win get away, I’ll think better of Rej Trevor than I’ve ever done.”
“If she do, to-morrow’s sun may see soldiers here in green uniforms, with red ones as their prisoners, and you and I, sister, will have done something for the good cause – for Liberty!”
In her most tranquil mien Sabrina Powell was an imposing personage; but now, excited to enthusiasm by the word “Liberty” on her lips, and its inspiration in her heart, with her grand eyes aglow, she looked its very Goddess.
She had finished her toilette, and stood at the window, a front one, commanding view of the avenue and entrance gate of the park. But not long was she there before seeing that which brought a black shadow upon her brow, with chill fear into her heart.
“Oh, Vaga?” she called to her sister, still at the mirror, “come hither! See what’s down yonder!”
The summons, in tone almost of agony, drew the other instantly to her side, with tresses trailing. To see three horsemen, who had just passed through the gate, and were coming on for the house. They rode abreast; he in the middle being in sombre civilian garb, the two who flanked him wearing the scarlet uniform of the soldiers already around the house.
“’Tis Rees!” exclaimed Sabrina, recognising the groom. “They’ve taken him prisoner!”
“Indeed, yes; ’tis he. Oh, sister, dear! if father should be coming home now? I hope he’s still in Gloucester!”
Vain hope; almost on the instant to know disappointment. For before those already entered were half-way up the long avenue, more red coats were seen riding through the gate, in their midst a man in dark dress – he, too, evidently conducted as a prisoner. “’Tis father!”
Chapter Sixty
Quartered upon the Enemy
Night had descended over Hollymead. A dark night, too, though there was no lack of light inside the house or around it. Nearing November the atmosphere had a frosty feel, and great wood fires were burning in the wide chimney places of the reception rooms. Without, in the centre of the courtyard, a very bonfire had been kindled, which sent its red glare and glow to the most distant corner of the inclosure. Around this were seated or standing, in every variety of attitude, such of the common soldiers of the escort as were not upon duty. Carousing, of course. For the rank and file of the Royalist army, especially that portion of it which acted under Rupert, followed the fashion of their officers; and one of the affectations of Cavalierism was to display a superior capacity for indulgence in drink.
About the house they had found the wherewithal to give them a good supper, with more than drink enough to wash it down. For when Monmouth fell into the hands of the Parliamentarians, the Master of Hollymead, thinking it safe, had done something to restock his pastures, as also replenish larder and cellars! And once more these were in the way of getting speedily depleted; the thirsty troopers around the courtyard fire quaffing at free tap from a cask of ale they had rolled out upon the pavement; while they bandied coarse jests, told indecent stories, or sang songs of like character, roaring in chorus.
Inside there was revelry also. Of a less rude kind; still revelry, and coarse enough, considering that they who indulged in it composed the entourage of a Prince. In the dining-hall was it being held, around a table on which stood a varied assortment of bottles and decanters, goblets and glasses. There had been a repast upon it, that same dinner-supper; but the dishes and débris of solids had been removed, and only the drinking materials remained. Nearly a score of guests encircled it, all gentlemen; and all in military uniform – being the officers of the escort – not a man in citizen garb seen among them. For the master of the house was not at the head of his own table, as might have been expected. Instead, shut up in one of the rooms adjacent; its door locked, and a sentry stationed outside!
His daughters were upstairs, in their private apartment, from which they had never come down. Through the window they had seen their father brought back under guard, as a felon; saw it with indignation, but also fear. Greater became the last, when told they could not hold speech with him, or have access to the room in which he was confined. Denied interview with their own father, in their own house! Inhumanity that augured ill for what was to come after.
What this might be they could neither tell nor guess. They even feared to reflect upon it; trembling at every footstep on the stairs. Though no key had been turned upon them, nor sentry set at their door, they were as much imprisoned as their father. For the Prince’s retinue of servants filled the house, tramping and roaming about everywhere, and bullying the family domestics. It was not safe to go out among them; and the young ladies had locked themselves up, dreading insult, if not absolute outrage. Even Gwenthian dared not trust herself downstairs, and shared their confinement.
What did it all mean? Why such change in the behaviour of the Prince, so late pretending amiability? For his people must have sanction, or they would not be so acting.
The explanation was simple, withal. Shortly after Rupert’s arrival at Hollymead, a courier, who had followed him from Monmouth, brought tidings of another Royalist reverse – Chepstow, with its castle, taken or closely beleaguered. Exasperated by the intelligence, he no longer resisted the wicked proposals of Lunsford, but gave willing assent to them. And now, having thrown off the mask, he had determined on taking the whole Powell family back with him to Bristol. As his prisoner there he could do with the “bit of saucy sweetness” as it might please him; as he had done with many other unfortunate women whom the chances of war had brought within his wanton embrace.
It had been all settled, save some details about the departure from Hollymead, the time, and the return route. These were now being discussed between him and the commanding officer of his escort, as they sate at a side table to which they had temporarily withdrawn, to be out of earshot, of the others.
“Should we remain here for the night, mein Colonel, or make back to Monmouth? We can get there before midnight.”
“That we could, easily enough, your Highness. But why go by Monmouth at all?”
“Why not?”
“There are two reasons against it, Prince. Both good ones.”
“Give them, Sir Thomas.”
“If it be true that Chepstow’s lost to us, there may be a difficulty in our crossing the Wye down there. Or getting over to the Aust passage of the Severn, with such a weak force as attends your Highness.”
“Gott! yes; I perceive that. But what’s your other reason against Monmouth way?”
“A more delicate one. To pass through that town with such a captive train as your Highness will have might give tongue for scandal. The venerable Marquis of Worcester is rather squeamish; besides not being your best friend. You know that, Prince?”
“I do know it, and will some day make him sorry for it, the old Papist hypocrite. But what other route would you have us take?”
“Down through the Forest direct, and across the Severn, either at Newnham or Westbury. There’s a ferry at both places, with horse-boats enough to take us all over in a trip or two. We may reach Berkeley Castle before daylight; where, if it be your Highness’s pleasure to lie up for the day, you could enter Bristol on the following night without all the world being the wiser as to the sort of prisoners we carried in.”
“Egad! your reasons are good. I’m inclined to follow your advice, and return by the route you speak of. Are you well acquainted with it, mein Colonel?”
“Reasonably well, your Highness. But Captain Trevor knows it better than I. He was longer with Sir John Wintour, and is familiar with every crook and turn of the Forest roads in that quarter. There can be no danger of our going astray.”
“But the night’s dark as pitch. So one has just told me.”
“True it is now, your Highness. But there’ll be a moon this side midnight, and that will be time enough to start. We can make Berkeley before morning – prisoners, crossing the Severn, and all delays notwithstanding. Next night your Highness may sleep in your own bed within the walls of Bristol Castle, with a sweet creature to share it – whom I need not designate by name.”
“She shall share it!” rejoined the Royal reprobate, in reckless, but determined tone, his wicked passions fired by the wine he had been drinking. “And we go that way, Colonel. So see that all be ready for the route soon as the moon shows her sweet face. Meanwhile, let us back to our comrades and be merry.”
Saying which he returned to the chair he had vacated at the head of the table, the other along with him; then, grasping a filled goblet, he called out the Cavalier’s orthodox sentiment “The Wenches!” adding, —
“Colonel Lunsford will respond with a song, gentlemen!”
Which the Colonel did; giving that they liked best, with a chorus they could all join in, —
“We’ll drink, drink;
And our goblets clink,
Quaffing the blood-red wine.
The wenches we’ll toast,
And the Roundheads we’ll roast,
The Croppies and all their kind.”
The coarse refrain, with the ribald jests that followed it, could be heard all over the house, reaching the ears of its imprisoned owner. Even those of his daughters, more distant, did not escape being offended by them. No wonder at both having in their hearts, if not on their lips, the prayer, – “God speed Win upon her errand!”
