Front matter (continued 6)

He smiled at my protestation, and answered kindly,—

"I trust that may not be needful, good Dicon; but if thou wilt thou shalt serve me in this thing. Canst meet me then here in this spot by three of the clock to-morrow morning? Good! I shall look for thee. See to thy steed to-night, for we must travel with all speed. I shall strive to reach Bristol to-morrow, and as early in the day as the distance will permit."

"I will not fail you, my lord," I answered proudly, my heart beating high within me. "And shall we return to the army when you have fulfilled your errand? Shall we see the fight when the foe is before us?"

"Truly I think we shall, Dicon," answered my lord with a smile. "The enemy seems in small haste to attack us; but whether that be a good or an evil sign I wot not. Yes, boy, I mean to be in the thick of that fight whenever it does take place;" and his eyes shone for a moment from beneath their bent brows with the battle light which the thought of action brings into the faces of all true soldiers. "I too would bear my share in that fight, as I see thou wouldst too. But I doubt not we shall be in time for that. It is not fighting, it is this delay, these pageants and proclamations, which sicken me. Would we were intrenched before Bristol now, doing and daring all, instead of trusting that some great thing will come to us. Well, boy, thou and I will see what is like to be our fate in that city. To-morrow before sunrising; and Heaven give us a good journey!"

CHAPTER XVIII.

IN PERIL IN A STRANGE CITY.

Of our long day's ride from Bridgewater to Bristol I do not purpose to speak in detail, being anxious to get on to more stirring scenes; and yet it was upon this day that I began to understand somewhat more clearly the nature of the enterprise on which we were embarked, and to see that the progress of the Duke was not much longer to be a march of unmixed triumph.

As we pursued our journey, sometimes along the roads, sometimes across open tracts of country, where Blackbird's cleverness and sagacity gave us great help in picking our way, we encountered bands of stern-faced men riding along with an air of purpose—men clad in such armour as was worn by regular soldiers, and showing in their air and bearing a martial bravery which was greatly lacking in the ranks I had lately seen.

These men looked at us with sharp glances as they passed; but our appearance was so harmless that nothing was said to us of a disquieting character. Sometimes we were asked if we had seen aught of "King Scott's army;" and though the gibe in the voice of the questioner made my cheek flame, my lord would answer quietly enough that he believed it to be encamped somewhere near to Bridgewater.

Once we journeyed some little distance with a party of these men. The commanding officer rode with the Viscount in front, and a couple of the troopers, who were greatly taken by Blackbird, and would fain know his history, came and rode beside me. I learned from them that they were on the way to Bristol to join the garrison there. They had been sent by the Duke of Albemarle, who was advancing upon Taunton, but had had to make a wide circuit to avoid the army of "King Scott" at Bridgewater, and were glad to fall in with travellers upon the waste of moorland, being but little acquainted with the country.

I asked them why they spoke of the Duke of Monmouth as "King Scott;" and they laughed, and said that he had forfeited his right to the title of Duke by his act of high treason. They told me that since his marriage, when quite a lad, he had taken the name of his noble wife, wanting one of his own, and that that name was Scott. They jeered and gibed at him and his feeble insurrection in a fashion that made my heart beat fast with mingled wrath and fear, and kept me in constant dread of betraying myself by some unguarded word. But for my lord's sake I strove for patience and discretion; and being accounted but a boy, and a hunchback to boot, I misdoubt if any words of mine would have been taken seriously by the troopers who rode for a time with us.

Still I was glad when they left us; and though my lord's face was the graver after they had gone, he did not tell me aught that had passed betwixt him and the captain. Indeed a heavy rain began falling soon, which, though sorely needed by the country after the long drought, was not a pleasant thing for travellers, and made us wrap ourselves in our mantles and draw our hats over our brows, and so pick our way with care and pains.

It had long been dark, and the rain was pouring down steadily and pitilessly, and our good horses were growing weary and jaded before the lights of Bristol flashed through the night, cheering us into a better pace than we had been able to get out of the horses for the past hour. The road too became better, and our hearts revived within us; but still I can remember little of our arrival at that great city, I was so dazed and wearied and confused by the long journey and the strangeness of everything about me.

There were a halt and a parley at the gate ere we got in, but my lord seemed to have no great trouble in obtaining entrance; and soon we found ourselves at a snug little hostelry, where there was good accommodation to be had for both man and beast, and where we were soon seated at a table set before a grand fire, the damp rising in clouds from our wet garments as we buckled to over our trenchers and ate as only men do who have fasted many hours, and travelled far to boot.

Our host waited himself upon us, many of his people having already gone to bed, and he was full of the rebellion, and the excitement prevailing in the city. He was very cautious for a while in telling us what was the feeling within the walls; but my lord had a way with him which quickly won the confidence of those with whom he spoke, and by-and-by I woke up from the doze into which I had fallen to find our host whispering many things to my lord with an air of eager secrecy. He said that the people were very discontented with the present King and with the Parliament, with the way in which justice was administered, and, above all, with the spirit of persecution which was springing up.

"If the Duke had but landed here or marched here straight," continued the man, in a husky whisper, "the town would have been his almost without the striking of a blow. But now His Grace of Beaufort has come in with the regulars, and they say the Earl of Feversham is close at hand, and may be looked for to-morrow or the next day. What can the citizens do when the iron hand of the army is at their throat? If only he had come sooner!"

Interesting as all this was to me, I was too weary to listen to more, and in fact was taken with such a fit of shivering that my teeth chattered in my head, and it was with much difficulty that I dragged myself up the stairs to bed, pulled off my wet clothes, and crept in there. My lord came himself to see me, and brought me a hot spiced posset, which, as soon as I had drunk it, sent me off into a sounder sleep than I think I ever slept before; for when I awoke again I found that the next day had slipped quite away, and that it was evening of Tuesday, and I had lain abed like a log when I had meant to be up and about after any business my lord might give me to do.

I arose in a great shame, and finding my clothes dried and brushed by my bedside, I dressed with what speed I might, and went below.

The room was filled with people of the lower sort, all talking together in excitement and heat. I sat in a corner and ate a piece of bread whilst I listened to all that was being said, and strove to gain knowledge of what had happened during the day.

One thing I heard which troubled me much. Lord Feversham had entered the city with a large body of troops—two hundred and fifty horse-guards, as I learned later. But there was more than this; for I heard, too, that the bridge over the great river Severn had been broken down by the Earl's men at Keynsham, so that it should be impossible for the Duke of Monmouth's army to approach the city.

This was very bad news for me, and, as it seemed, for the people also. In this place, at least, there was no hesitation as to which rule was preferred—that of the Popish King on the throne, or that of the champion of liberty and Protestantism come to wage war upon him. If men spoke with bated breath of the coming deliverer, it was not because they were half-hearted in the cause; and here and there a voice would be raised to ask why, if all the citizens were agreed, the soldiers could not be outnumbered and overawed? why the will of the people should not prevail over some few thousands of hired mercenaries, who at heart most like did not love the King better than the towns-folk?

These high sounding-words were taken up and passed from mouth to mouth; but yet I could see that none knew how concerted action amongst the citizens could be begun now that the town was guarded by soldiers and a close watch set about the walls and even in the streets. Yet as the night drew on other men kept dropping in, and it was whispered that the Duke of Monmouth was after all approaching; that some of the horse had already reached Pensford; that another day might bring them beneath the walls of Bristol; and that then would be the moment for all the city to rise.

I listened with beating heart and straining ears to all this, wondering what the truth of it might be, and if indeed the city would open its gate to our new-made King. Presently I ventured to enter into conversation with some of those nearest to me, and told how I had been in Taunton when Monmouth had been proclaimed King. This excited great interest in the minds of those about, and I was made to tell the story out aloud, whilst the people listened with mouths agape, and I could see by their eager faces how they longed to see him proclaimed here in Bristol.

Presently, however, some soldiers came marching in and ordered wine. They looked about upon the people with an air of suspicion and severity which quickly changed the aspect of the assembly. First one group and then another broke up and went out, and in a short time there were scarce half-a-dozen persons left.

"Your good customers seem mightily afraid of a buff jerkin and a musket, landlord," remarked one of the soldiers as he drained his goblet. "Have a care that you harbour not seditious malcontents in your house, or it may chance to go ill with you one of these days."

And then the soldiers clattered out, having probably done what they came to do; whilst the landlord's face, which had been pale and submissive in presence of the troopers, grew dark with fear and hatred.

"Those cursed soldiers!" he hissed beneath his breath. "A man goes in fear of his life and his property when the city is beset with them."

"Heaven send us a speedy deliverer!" breathed another, with clinched hand and frowning brows. "All the city would rise to greet him, I verily believe—soldiers or no soldiers!"

Late at night the Viscount came in, and told me something of how his day had been spent. It was quite true that the citizens were as much in favour of the Duke here as in the other places where we had seen the welcome they gave him. But the presence of a strong garrison and a determined Commander put a very different face upon the matter in this fortified town. The garrison had possession of the walls and citadel, and could turn their arms upon the towns-people as well as upon the foe if there were any tumult or rising. Some were in favour of stirring up a revolt within the walls so soon as the Duke should be without, engaging the soldiers in defence of their gates and ramparts; but men who knew as much of war as the Viscount were doubtful whether such a rising would be attended with success. There was something in the presence of regular troops which acted as an effectual check to burgher risings. A panic quickly set in at the sight of cold steel and the remorseless action of trained soldiery. Forty years of peace had weakened the warlike traditions of the past generation who remembered the civil war.

"Citizens talk, and speak great swelling words, but too often they run like sheep at the first sight of pike and musket," said my lord; and when I remembered how the crowd in this very room had dispersed like a mist before the handful of troopers who had come into their midst, just after having spoken such great things of defying the army, I could not but think that he was in the right.

Next day I too wandered about the streets of the great city, full of curiosity and amaze at what I saw. I had never been within a fortified town, and the frowning walls and gateways struck me with awe and amaze, as did also the great quays and wharfs where vessels larger than any I had ever seen lay at anchor. And nothing would content me but that I must go aboard of one, which I did through the kindness of a sailing-master with whom I got into talk; and I spent two wonderful hours amongst the shipping, both hearing tell of the wonders of the deep, and learning something of the desire amongst seafaring men for a better King upon the throne, and the hope that the Duke of Monmouth would "come into his own."

I asked whether, if there were to be fighting around Bristol, there were any ships that would help the cause of the Duke by firing upon, or in any way injuring, the soldiers; but he did not seem to think that there were any vessels in the harbour that could be trusted to do any good that way. There had been a close watch kept on all vessels coming into the river, and some had been sent to the right-about, and not suffered to make the harbour.

Towards sundown I retraced my way towards the hostelry where we were lodging, when I was suddenly brought up short by a most unwelcome sight. I was aware that a pair of dark sinister eyes were steadily regarding me; and looking to see whose they might be, I encountered the malevolent gaze of the Rev. Mr. Blewer, whom I believed to be far away in Taunton.

I can scarce say why it was that this gaze troubled me so, but I felt a sensation as though some person had walked over my grave (as the saying is); and I was not made any more comfortable by seeing that Mr. Blewer immediately beckoned to a sentry who was standing near and pointed me out to him, though what words he spoke I could not hear.

I found myself trembling all over as I walked onwards, and I railed at myself for proving nothing but a coward. I was relieved when I got in to find the Viscount there before me, to whom I told what I had seen.

But he only smiled, and said,—

"I am well pleased that that pestilent fellow is far away from Taunton and from Mary. I doubt if he would gain speech of her now were he never so near; but I would sooner he were anywhere else than there."

"But can he do hurt to me or to you, my lord?" I asked, rather anxiously; and was answered by a smile of amusement.

"It is like enough he might if he set himself to it; but we shall not be here much longer. I have found out all I came to discover; and if it be true, as men say, that the Duke will be at Pensford to-night with his whole army, we will join him early and give him the intelligence he seeks. Thou hadst best go to thy bed early, Dicon, for this may be the last night for many that thou wilt have a bed to sleep in. Are our horses in fettle for the road to-morrow? We must be astir right early, and leave the city with the dawn."

"The horses are as well as ever they were, my lord; they have been shod afresh, and well fared and cared for. They will carry us another fifty miles to-morrow if needs be."

"Nay, it will be but a short way we need take them; but perchance they, like ourselves, will fare only badly for a while. Time will show—time will show. Get thee to bed now, Dicon, and be ready for the start to-morrow."

I went to bed, little dreaming of any further adventure that night; and I suppose I had slept for some hours, when I was awakened by such a tumult in the street below as made me spring up in a sudden fright, and I heard men shouting out in every key and tone,—

"The Duke! the Duke! He has come! he has come! God be praised! Our deliverer is here!"

Although there was no moon in the sky, in which the rain-clouds still hung heavily, albeit it was not raining that night, my room was almost as light as day with a red glare that spoke of fire. I was up and into my clothes faster than I can write all this down, and I dashed across to my lord's room, to find it already empty—he having been still up and dressed when the first shout was raised, so that he was in the streets before me.

Down I rushed, all the household being awake and alarmed, and the door standing open like half the doors in the town, as I hurried along not knowing whither I went, but only agog for news.

The people were all running and shouting, and the great palpitating glare in the sky lighted the whole city, and gave a weird brilliance to the strange scene. All the time the streets were echoing to the cry,—

"The Duke! the Duke! To arms, citizens, to arms! The Duke has come! Down with tyranny and Popery! Down with the usurper! A Monmouth! a Monmouth for the people!"

"Where is he? What has happened? Where is the Duke?" I asked, first of one and then of another. At first none heeded me, but others taking up the question, we began to get answers bit by bit.

"He is here! He is coming! That is the beacon light to bring him! Perchance he is beneath the walls! He may be entering the city even now! Hark! is not that the sound of arms? He is coming! he is coming! Heaven be praised, our deliverer is at hand!"

The people seemed to have gone well-nigh mad. I never saw such a sight in my life as the streets of this city with all the men and women swarming out, shouting, weeping, crying, praying, and the great red cloud swaying over us in the black sky, and at last the steady tramp of mailed troopers swinging along down the wide thoroughfare.

"The soldiers! the soldiers! Pray Heaven it be the Duke's men!" shrieked the women. But the next moment the cry went up, "The King's troops! the King's troops! Have a care, citizens! Hist! hist!"

They came swinging along with their great pikes menacingly pointed at the crowds, which dispersed and fled before them; whilst at intervals a halt was called, and a voice from their midst rang out in a threatening word of warning,—

"To your beds, citizens; to your homes and your beds. The Duke of Beaufort makes it known through all the city, that if there be any rising this night for the rebel Duke of Monmouth, he will fire the town about your ears in a hundred places at once. Take your choice, men of Bristol, take your choice. Either disperse in quiet to your homes, or see yourselves, your houses, and your children burned before your eyes!"

A horrified silence fell upon the people as these words were heard; and only one woman dared to raise her voice to ask, "But where is the Duke of Monmouth?"

"Ten miles away if a step, woman, and with a swollen river without bridge 'twixt him and Bristol.—To your homes and your beds, good people, if you wish to save yourselves and your city to-night."

Away swung the soldiers, to give their dread message in other places; and away to their homes scuttled the cowed citizens, led by their trembling wives; whilst news came that there were twenty companies of foot drawn up in Redcliffe Mead, ready at a moment's notice to march through the streets and fire the rebellious city if it should prove troublesome. Another report said that the fire was in the river; that a ship there had caught light either by accident or by design; and that had it not been high tide, with plenty of water in the harbour, so that other vessels could sheer off, there might have been a fearful destruction amongst the craft lying there.

"Some miscreant of the Monmouth faction did the damage," said one party of soldiers parading the streets to keep and enforce order. "Spies from the rebel camp have been seen prowling about the streets to-day, and along the wharfs. Let us but catch them, and their heads will adorn the city gate by the time the day dawns."

At these words I shrank into the shadow of a doorway, with my heart thumping against my ribs as though it would burst out of them. I did not doubt for a moment that I was reckoned as one of these spies, and perhaps my lord for another. If Mr. Blewer had seen him he would not forget it, and would take advantage of any incident to raise a tumult against him. I realized the fact that we stood in no small jeopardy so long as we remained in Bristol; and my first thought was to seek the shelter of the hostelry, to get ready our horses, and then strive by what method we could best escape from those environing walls. It was a terrible thing to think of having to pass the sentries if we were under suspicion. But I trusted that my lord, who knew the city and had friends there, would have some plan for escape; and to go home and await him there seemed the best and wisest course to pursue.

I wished the streets had been a little more full now—that the citizens had not been so easily cowed and scared back to their homes; then I should have had a better chance of slipping through the crowd and making my way unseen. Still, as it was, one of the sides of the street was in deep shadow, and I was flitting warily along in it, when suddenly I heard a sound in front like that of shouting and pursuit. The next moment round the corner, as if with wings to his feet, came my lord the Viscount, hatless, and with his doublet half torn off his back, his breath coming in deep gasps, his hair streaming in the wind, looking like a golden cloud where the red firelight touched it.

The moment I saw that sight, before the pursuers had rounded the corner, I sprang out upon him, as one who joined the hue and cry. I felt as though every muscle in my body had suddenly turned to steel. I seized him by the hand, and darted with him down a narrow entry that I had noted that day in coming up from the river.

"My lord, my lord! this way, this way!" I gasped in his ear, not knowing whither we were speeding, but perceiving that we were in a labyrinth of small back streets which might baffle pursuit for a time. We fled onwards, although I was certain that I had heard a hoarse cry raised from behind,—

"There goes the other of them! Now we shall have them both! After them! they cannot escape! After them, men! ten pounds to the man that brings them, dead or alive!"

I do not think my lord heard, his breath was coming in such deep and laboured gasps. He let me turn and double whither I would; and I think that I had the greater skill to baffle pursuit, having a more lively fear in my heart, perhaps, and knowing something of the ways of wild things when running for their lives.

But still I could hear cries and shouts following us, and that word of evil omen, "The spies! the spies!" and I wondered whether we should be able to escape them after all, when we suddenly dived down a dark entry, and were brought up short by a house that stood at the end, blocking all egress, and as it were enclosing us in a trap.

"Heaven help us, we are lost!" I cried in despair, realizing that to return the way we had come would probably throw us into the very arms of our pursuers, who had scattered hither and thither, and could be heard coming nearer and nearer. My lord spoke no word, being indeed past speech, but I saw his hand go to the hilt of his sword, which he still wore, and I knew that he at least would sell his life dearly. But then all of a sudden a door behind us opened cautiously, and a woman looked out.

"Come in, come in quick!" she said. "This way! along this passage—mind the holes in the floor—and up yon stair. Go up and up and up to the top, and out upon the leads. There's an open trap; but ye can shut and bolt it, and give yourselves a few moments' grace. There's a mile of leads up there, and spouts and gutters leading from place to place. I'll keep them here in parley as long as I can. Hide yourselves somewhere in the holes or behind the chimney-stacks. Men have hidden away there before now and escaped. If ye be from Monmouth's army, ye shall not die in Bristol town if Jenny can save you."

"Heaven reward you!" I cried, as I darted along the passage and up the stairs, my lord after me; but he paused to ask the woman if she ran no risk herself ere he would go (which shows the difference there is between gentle blood and blood like mine; for I thought only of my own skin, whilst he had thought to spare for her), and I heard her words come clear and mocking,—

"They shan't hurt me—nay, not a bit of it! I'm too well known for that. Not a man of them would lay a hand on old Jenny; and I'll say I was knocked down by a pair of insolent, swaggering fellows, who have made their way out of yon window at the back. Some will go up to the leads for all that, but some will stay below and search the courts behind. I know the ways of them; and if there be but two or three to follow you, slay them one by one as they slip and scramble over the roofs. Oh, it is rare sport, it is rare sport! I have seen the likes of it before."

The woman's uncouth speech and mocking laugh baffle description. I almost shuddered at her words whilst hurrying up the rotten stairs and pushing open the trap-door at the top. The next minute we were both out in the free air upon the leads, with the fading glow of the fire very near at hand; and we bolted down the trap and made it as firm as we could before we spoke a word.

"At least we have a chance of our lives now, Dicon," said my lord; "and if we have to lay them down, we will at least sell them as dearly as may be."

He drew his sword half out of its sheath, and his eyes glittered in the glow of the fire. I felt a curious thrill run through me as I heard and saw him, and I felt that to-night I was to receive my baptism of blood.

CHAPTER XIX.

A BAPTISM OF BLOOD.

For the moment we were safe, but only for the moment. From what the old woman had said, we knew that our pursuers would soon be after us; and there was another peril of which I had not thought till my lord's voice spoke in my ear,—

"If the woman has played us false, we may be in a trap from which there is no escape. But at least it was certain death to remain there."

I felt a cold shudder run through me as I said,—

"I do not think she was tricking us, my lord."

And he answered in the same low voice,—

"Neither do I; but such things have been before. We must be on our guard. Walk warily, Dicon. These leaden roofs are treacherous. Yet what a labyrinth they form. Methinks we can baffle pursuit yet! See, lad! we are not far from the river. It may be we shall make shift to find our way out from the city by water. Canst swim, Dicon?"

"Ay, verily; better than I can run."

"Good; yet thou didst run manfully just now with those hell-hounds after us. Dicon, thou knowest that our enemy Mr. Blewer is in the town?"

"Ay, my lord."

"It was he who set them on at me for a spy. He thought to have rid himself thus easily of a rival and a foe. It may be he will do so even yet; but if I die to-night, I sell my life dear!"

He spoke through his shut teeth, and I felt the strange quiver, that was half like fear and half like exultation, run down my spine again. All this while we were rapidly picking our way along the leads and roofs, lighted by the glow of the burning ship upon the river, which I had no time to stay and look at, as I fain would have done; for the question of life and death was paramount with us, and it was no moment for pausing to admire the blood-red river like a flaming mirror, nor the strange fantastic shadows cast by the leaping flames. We were glad of the light for making our own way amongst the leads and chimney-stacks and along narrow parapets, where a false step would have been destruction; but all the while our ears were strained for the sound of hammering and pursuing footsteps, and we knew that as soon as we heard them we must crouch down in some of the many deep niches and hiding-places of that strange region, else would the brilliant light lead to our instant discovery.

All the while we moved my lord kept casting his eyes hither and thither, and at last I heard him exclaim,—

"Hist, Dicon! they are after us. And here is the very place for us. In with thee, boy! There is room for thee, I trow. I will follow and guard the entrance. He shall pay dear who seeks to hale us thence."

My lord spoke through his shut teeth, and I was quaking all over as I looked about, yet could see nothing like a hiding-place. But the Viscount's eyes had been sharper than mine, and the next moment he pushed me gently but firmly into a narrow, narrow niche between two great chimney-stacks—a long black crevice filled with masonry at the farther end, looking like a mere slit in the wall, and in which, unless I had tried, I would not have believed that I or any other man could stand. But the crevice widened a little after I had pushed myself into it; and it was in the deepest of deep shadow, for the dark chimney-stacks rose high above our heads, and the narrow, narrow aperture by which we had squeezed ourselves in faced away from the river, so that not a single shaft of light crept into our retreat.

I drew a gasping breath of relief as I found myself at the far end of the niche, with ample room to turn round and move my arms; and I said to my lord, "Surely we are safe now." And he made answer, "Unless they know the place, perchance we are; but even so it will go hard to oust us. Methinks I could hold the entrance against a score of enemies, and run every one of them through as he approached."

And in truth only one man could approach the place at a time, as I saw very well; and it made me think of the story I had read in Roman history of the passage of the bridge that was kept by Horatius and his two supporters. The Viscount was to me as great a hero as any in the pages of history or romance, and well could I picture him holding this place against the onslaught of a hundred foes.

But the next minute all thoughts save those of a personal nature were lost in the overwhelming trembling fear which assailed me as I heard the sound of hurried tramping all along the leads, voices calling one to the other, and brutal threats shouted out to the accompaniment of brutal laughter.

Although the heavy masonry in which I was enclosed hindered me from catching every word, yet I could well follow the drift of what was said, and well did I understand that a long rope and a short shrift was the best we could hope for were we caught. Once I heard a soldier in passing say to his comrade,—

"The clergyman promised a liberal reward to whatever man would show him the head of the dainty gentleman. We'll have him and get the reward. I'll run him through with my own sword—I've no pity on a spy."

All the place seemed alive with searching soldiers, shouting one to another—sometimes bawling out that they were here or there, sometimes cursing loudly at having been deceived by a shadow. Some declared they saw them getting down by a spout, and a rush would be made to this side or that. Others vowed they had got away from this block altogether, and would be found elsewhere; and they would fall to cursing this region of house-roofs and chimneys, which it seemed had favoured the escape of fugitives before now, as indeed the old woman had implied.

I cowered against the wall, quaking in every limb. I must needs tell the truth, even if I am dubbed coward for it. Sometimes the voices were so near that it seemed as though we must be discovered; then again they would move further off, and I began to breathe once more, till some fresh footstep again brought my heart into my mouth. I felt then as if anything would be better than to be trapped like this without hope of escape; but when the footstep had passed by again, I felt thankful for the protection of the friendly niche, which plainly was not known to the soldiers.

Gradually the sounds of pursuit died away. Voices angry and disappointed called one to another that we must have taken to the lower roofs, or that old Jenny had been right in saying we had got out by a window, and had not taken to the leads at all. Cursing and swearing, the men appeared to draw off, and I was just about to approach nearer to my lord, who had remained all this while close to the entrance of our retreat, his drawn sword in his hand, when I was deterred by the sound of a new footfall coming steadily onwards. This footfall did not pass by our niche, and against the lightness of the sky beyond I saw outlined a tall martial figure, and knew that this last soldier had noticed this chink in the masonry, and was speculating about it as he passed by.

"A likely place," I heard him mutter, "but an ugly one to enter alone. Where are the rest? Have all gone? A pretty search they have made. I will call them back."

Thump, thump, thump went my heart against my ribs. In spite of its clangour I heard a sound which I knew was just the beginning of a shout that would have the effect of bringing the scattered searchers all rushing back to this place. But one slight hoarse note was all that was uttered. With a quick rush my lord had sprung out, sword in hand. There followed for two or three seconds the sound of clashing blades, another effort at a call, and then the thud of a heavy fall, and a gurgling noise, which I shall never forget to my dying day. In the dead silence which followed I heard my lord speaking in a low voice.

"You can come out, Dicon; I think all is safe now."

I came out trembling and giddy. There upon the leads, run through the heart by a swift sword-thrust from my lord, lay the man who had been a second or two before full of strength and life. His glazing eyes were upturned to the sky; his tall form lay so still that I could not bear to look at it. I had never seen a man killed before, and the horror of the thing was stronger upon me at that moment than the relief of our escape. My lord was binding with his scarf a gash upon his wrist. That sight brought me out of my stupor, and I asked leave to help him, though my hands trembled, and I was clumsy at fastening the knot. I saw my lord look at me with something of a smile upon his pale, resolute face.

"Warfare is a grim thing, Dicon. Thou hast scarce the stomach for it yet. But, boy, thou wilt see grimmer things yet, I take it, if thou dost hold to thy purpose of following the Duke's army. Such things as these are scarce the beginning of horrors. Come now, we must not linger here. I reckon we shall be safer to seek old Jenny in the house now than to linger longer on these leads, where soldiers may be posted watching and spying. Go cautiously, Dicon, and keep in the shadow. Belike the woman will not be far off."

This surmise proved a true one, and before we had retraced our steps we saw the creeping form of old Jenny coming towards us.

"Hist!" she whispered; "ye have done well to hide and outwit them. Ye are safer here now than anywhere. How many did ye slay? Only one? I would it had been a score! Better luck to ye next time! Now, follow me, and I'll take ye safe to the water-side, and put ye in a boat that'll land ye further up the river, where ye may find your way to the Duke. Tell him that all loyal folks in the city will rise for him if he will but bring his army to the walls. Who cares if the soldiers do fire the city? Fire means plunder! Who cares for danger where plunder is to be had? We'll fling the cursed soldiers into the flames they have kindled, to roast there as they deserve; and for us there will be plunder—plunder—plunder!" and the old hag waved her arms wildly over her head, and looked the very embodiment of some fury breathing out curses and threatenings of coming doom.

"The Duke shall hear all that I have learned," answered my lord, "and he shall know that we owe our lives to you, my good woman. But set not your heart too much upon seeing him here; for Bristol with its present garrison will be a hard nut to crack, and the Duke has few guns, and fewer men who know how to handle them."

The woman had wrapped us each in a heavy cloak, which disguised the cut of our garments, and bidding us follow her, she glided through the house once more and out into the street, where it was now very dark. She passed us, I scarce know how, through a little postern door giving upon the river, where, at the sound of a whistle, a boat quickly appeared out of the darkness, and she held a parley with the man who held the oars.

"He will take ye as far as a mile beyond the walls," she said, "and ye will give him a gold piece for his pains. They say the Duke is at Keynsham, building up the bridge. Ye'll find him there right enow."

"But our horses, our horses!" I said anxiously, being loath indeed to part from Blackbird. And when old Jenny learned where the nags and our belongings were to be found, she nodded her head many times, and said at last,—

"If they be at honest Job Candy's, I'll get them thence directly it is dawn, and bring them to ye by the wood ye'll see on your right when ye leave the boat. Never fear, sirs; old Jenny never fails to keep her word. Farewell to you, and a good voyage. I'll see ye again before many hours have passed."

She slipped away into the darkness, ignoring the outstretched hand of my lord, which would have pressed a golden guinea upon her.

"Don't linger, sir," said the gruff voice of the boatman; and the next moment we were speeding up stream with the last of the flood-tide, the man being anxious to land us at the appointed spot before the strong ebb should make his task a hard one.

I had never been on so wondrous wide a river, and looked about me with awe as the boat flitted along in the shadows. The burning ship farther down towards the mouth of the great tidal stream had drawn all traffic away from the upper reaches. Ships had weighed anchor and sheered away into the wider reaches, to make sure of escape should the fire spread; whilst small craft had gone to help the burning vessel, and left this part of the river quiet and lonely. The fire was still burning, but not fiercely. The ship looked like a phantom one of glowing flame, reflected double in the sullen water, and illumining the other vessels in the river with a sombre brilliance. I had never seen such a sight in my life before, and could not take my eyes off it. When at last we rounded a bend in the river which hid the fire from view, I saw the first faint tinge of red stealing into the eastern sky, and knew that another day had dawned, and that we were alive to welcome it, as once I had scarce believed we should be.

The walls of the city seemed to be slowly sinking behind us. The tide grew slack, and began to turn. Our boatman looked over his shoulder and pointed towards a wooded hill not far from the left bank of the river, which was on our right hand as we sat facing him in the stern; and we gathered from his uncouth words that he was about to land us there, and that we were to wait in the wood for Jenny and our horses.

Ten minutes later we stepped ashore, and the Viscount gave the man his appointed dole, together with words of thanks and courtesy, which seemed almost thrown away on such a fellow. It was beginning then to get light, and I saw that my lord's face was ashy pale, and that the bandage we had made for his arm was soaked through with blood.

It seemed that our rough boatman had noted as much as that, for he gave me a look, and then jerked his thumb in a certain direction; and following the direction of his glance, I saw a little wreath of smoke curling up through the trees, and gathered that we should find some sort of a dwelling-place there.

Nor was I disappointed, for when my lord had dragged his faltering steps a few furlongs, we came in sight of a thatched cabin belonging to a woman; and when I knocked at the door and asked admittance, saying that we had been forced to fly from Bristol by the King's soldiers, and were on our way to the Duke's army, we were welcomed with open arms.

The wood fire on the hearth was made bright and cheery with faggots from the store; and albeit there was nothing in the house but rye bread and milk, and a little hard cheese, yet the milk, made hot, brought the colour back to my lord's wan cheek; and we soon stanched his wound, which was not deep, and bound it up afresh, so that it hindered him but little in the use of his arm.

We were both somewhat spent by our night's peril and fatigue, and I quickly fell asleep by the fire, and slept for several hours without once waking. When I did open my eyes, it was to find the rain pouring down, the fire in the cabin burning cheerily, and my lord sitting at the table with his head resting on his hand, lost in serious reflection.

As I started up he smiled at me kindly. His face was still pale, but he was not otherwise changed.

"Awake, boy," he said, "and ready for a march? Old Jenny has not failed us; and our horses are in the shed hard by, refreshed by their rest in the city. The good folks here declare the army to be no further than Keynsham; and say that the bridge was mended yesterday, and that the Duke will be passing over to the Gloucester side of the river to-day. We had better join him as soon as may be, if indeed thou wouldest not rather go home than see more of the perils of war."

I felt that I had not distinguished myself in my first adventure, and my face burned with shame, although I knew my lord had no thought of mocking me. I stood up and said resolutely,—

"If you are going back, my lord, I go with you."

"I have no choice," he answered gravely; "I am pledged to the cause. I have my company to lead into action. But the case is different with thee, Dicon; bethink thee well."

"I have thought of everything, my lord," I answered. "I go not back unless it be with you."

"Thou art an obstinate lad, Dicon," said my lord, with a smile; "yet I like thee the better for thy stubbornness. Then if thy mind is made up, let us forth without loss of time. If we wait for the skies to smile again, we may have long to tarry."

We had soon thanked and rewarded and said farewell to our hosts, and were in the saddle once more. Travelling was becoming bad by reason of the persistent rain, albeit the land sorely needed it. I wondered how it had fared with our soldiers, and whether the cold and the wet had damped at all their martial ardour.

It was but some seven miles, I take it, from where we started to the bridge at Keynsham, or Cansham as some write it; and long before we reached the spot we knew that the army was nigh at hand, because all the people of the scattered villages were going forth to see, and we saw horsemen scouring the country in search of provisions wherewith to feed the men. Sheep and oxen were being driven towards the camp, and though in the main payment was made for what was taken, yet there were some amongst the farmers and peasants whose faces were dark and lowering, and who muttered that a bad King was better than an army on the march.

The bridge over the river at Keynsham, which the enemy had broken down, had been repaired by Captain Tyler with skill and despatch; already the Duke and his gentlemen had passed over it, and the rest of the army was following when we got up. Pressing on after the Duke's party, we were not long in coming up with it. Then I fell into the rear, and mingled with the men: whilst my lord went straight to His Grace, and was welcomed very graciously, as I heard.

The news which I brought from the city, despite the favourable feeling of the common people, did not seem to the soldiers to be very encouraging. They shook their heads when they heard of the Duke of Beaufort's threat, and more than one veteran who had seen something of war in Holland, from which country they had come over with the Duke, said that in a walled and garrisoned city the towns-folk were helpless as sheep if the soldiers kept true to their leaders; and so far as we had heard, there had been no disaffection amongst the regular troops. It was only the militiamen that deserted to the Duke.

Later on word came that the Duke had been very sad on hearing the news brought by my lord the Viscount, and had been heard to exclaim,—

"God forbid that I should be accessory to the ruin of my friends, or that for any consideration I should subject so great a city to the double calamity of sword and fire!" And although many amongst us loved him the better for his gracious care of his people, yet the veterans shook their heads, and whispered together that thoughts like these would be the ruin of any cause, and that by no such arguments had the victories of the world been won.

Still there was talk of an attack upon Bristol that very night; and since now they were so near to that city, it was suggested that the troops should fall back upon Keynsham, rather as though they were retreating, but still encamping upon this side the river, should wait for nightfall and then march rapidly upon the city and seek to surprise it. Now this was right good news to the more warlike portion of the army, who had longed all the while to make a bold stroke. I, too, was rejoiced to hear it, for methought that if the townsmen did but arise as one man and attack the garrison in the rear, whilst we engaged them in front, surely the place must yield; and if our Duke were but master of Bristol, arms and treasure and stores of all kinds he would have in abundance, as well as a walled city, and a seaport to boot, whence supplies could be brought from his friends in Holland, who we were assured were working for him there.

Having no post or occupation of mine own, I wandered here and there as I would, watching the men take up their quarters as if for the night, and always ready to do any errand for my lord, if he should desire it. His company of horse was posted in the rear, to guard it from attack; and as the evening began to fall wet and murky and cheerless, I chanced to be standing beside him, both of us being mounted, when a scout came rushing breathlessly out of the town, crying lustily,—

"To horse! to horse! the enemy is upon us!"

In a moment all was confusion and dismay—all save the demeanour of my lord himself, which was perfectly calm and intrepid.

"Steady, men, steady!" he kept crying, as his troopers gathered round him; and as they fell into line, inspired and controlled by the calmness of their leader, he asked a few questions of the scout, and was told that two companies of the enemy had come charging into the town, and would be upon us almost at once.

And, indeed, whilst we were speaking, there came to our ears the sound of on-coming horse-hoofs, and the next minute the Viscount had shouted,—

"Stand to your arms, men! Be ready! Charge!"

In a moment his horse sprang forward, and Blackbird after him. I had no manner of business in the action, not being armed with anything but a poniard in my belt, and knowing nothing of warfare; but where the Viscount's horse went Blackbird must needs follow, nor had I then the will to check him. Behind us thundered the men, following their gallant young captain as almost all Englishmen will follow their leader if he be brave and resolute. They were but country yokels for the most part, who had seen nothing of fighting, and who knew nothing of the tactics of war; but they set their teeth and lowered their weapons, and followed the dashing charge of their leader.

What happened next I know not. It seemed as though, with some frightful shock, I was hurled against a solid rock. Sparks danced before my eyes. There was a sound of singing in my ears; and then another sound—that of the rattle of musketry. And at that sound I felt Blackbird rear up on his hind legs as though he would fall over backwards; but he righted himself, and then, with a swiftness and skill with which I could scarce have credited him, he dashed off through the heaving mass of combatants. How he did it I know not to this day; but with the sound of musket shots and the clash of swords in our ears, he galloped off as though for dear life as hard as hoofs could take him.

So bewildered and breathless was I that it was long ere I could check him. I felt all the while like one in a dream, and knew not whether the thing were true or no, nor, if it were, whether I had received some grievous hurt in that first fierce onslaught. But gradually as I succeeded in pulling up my foaming horse, I came to the conclusion that I was sound and whole, and was grievously ashamed at having been thus carried out of the battle by my terrified and refractory steed. But Blackbird had never been in such a terrible scene, nor had he ever heard fire-arms save at a distance, and then it was hard to hold him. I could not wonder that he had served me so; yet I was grievously ashamed that I had seen none of the fighting, and had left my lord the Viscount in such a fashion.

But as I urged the reluctant Blackbird back whence he had come, I saw that he was not the only horse who had been seized with a like panic at the rattle of musketry. Horses—some with riders and some without—were careering wildly about in extremity of terror, and quite unmanageable; whilst, to my display and terror, I speedily singled out from amongst these the fine charger ridden by my lord, who so soon as he saw his friend and comrade of the past days, came and ranged himself beside Blackbird, as though ready for another charge.

My heart was full of fear and woe as I saw this, for I knew that Bucephalus had no fear of fire, that he had been trained to such scenes, and that to see him thus riderless betokened some hurt to my lord.

Already it seemed as though the brief tide of battle was turned back. I saw a compact body of horsemen, looking like the enemy, riding fast away. Later I discovered that they had taken us for friends at first, and had been riding to join us, when they suddenly found out their mistake, and had been compelled to meet and repel our charge before they could re-form and retreat. Had our horses and soldiers been trained, we should have made prisoners of the whole company; as it was, only a few prisoners were made. The rest galloped off in safety; but they left lying on the ground as one dead the gallant young captain who had led the charge against them; and with a cry of fear and horror, I saw my lord stretched out upon the miry earth, looking as still and rigid as the soldier on the leads at dawn that day, who had been struck dead by a blow from my lord's sword.

CHAPTER XX.

IN SUSPENSE.

With a lamentable cry I flung myself from Blackbird's back, and knelt beside my lord's prostrate figure; and almost at once there was a crowd about us, and presently I heard a voice speaking in tones of authority, "Make way, men, make way! Here is the surgeon!"

The next moment somebody else was kneeling beside me, and I saw the grave, clever face of Mr. Oliver, one of the Duke's surgeons.

"Is he dead? is he dead?" I moaned; for I felt all the courage and life taken out of me at sight of that white still face.

"Killed! not a bit of it, boy. It is but a swoon from loss of blood. Here, let me get to him to stanch the bleeding, else he may bleed to death!" and the surgeon's busy hands moved to and fro, whilst the flow of life-blood was quickly checked. But over and above the deep gash in the shoulder from which the crimson stream flowed, the bone of the sword-arm had been shattered by a musket-ball; and Mr. Oliver, as he drew forth the bullet and proceeded to swathe up the injured limb, shook his head with the remark,—

"This will be the last of your fighting for some time to come, my good sir. The cause will be lost or won without your aid before you can cross saddle or wield weapon again."

The Viscount heard not a word, being still sunk in deep unconsciousness; but a voice above us said in sorrowful accents,—

"And so I lose another of those very few who know the art of war. Soon I shall have not a soldier left!"

Raising my eyes, I saw our Duke looking down upon my lord's white face with eyes full of compassion and regret.

"To lose such a soldier in so small an affray! and he one of the very few who had the art to command his men!" said the Duke again. And I loved him the more for his words and his look, seeing that he, too, loved my lord right well.

"It is greatly to be regretted, sire," answered the surgeon, who was now adjusting the torn doublet, and looking about as though to know what next was to be done with the patient. "Lord Vere is a heavy loss to us; but he must be well tended and have care and nursing, or it may go hard with him after such a hurt. He has not that iron frame which a soldier needs. He is an instrument something too finely tempered for such rough and ready warfare.—Boy," he said, looking straight at me, "art thou his servant? I have seen thee ofttimes beside him. Where can we carry him, so that he shall be well tended whilst he lies helpless and sick?"

"His father's house would surely be his best asylum," said the Duke; but I shook my head doubtfully.

"I misdoubt me if my lord would go there. His father has cast him off for joining your Majesty. But if I could get him taken back as far as Bridgewater, I could there get him all he needs, and he would be well cared for and tended."

"He will need that," said the surgeon, with his hand upon the wrist of my lord. "He will probably fall into a fever from his wounds. But, boy, let not any leech take more blood from him on that account. He has lost more already than he can spare. See that further loss is spared him, if thou be with him. A little more, and they would drain the life from him altogether—as has been done before now!"

"I will see to it," I answered eagerly, vowing in my heart that nobody should do a thing for my lord that I could do myself. He seemed all at once to have become my charge. My heart swelled with happiness in feeling this, and yet sank at the thought of the many perils and difficulties which lay before me. How was I to get him all those long miles back to Bridgewater? and if I could not get him there, how could I tend him and care for him in a strange place, from which all stores had been taken to feed the army, and amidst strangers who would pay little heed to my prayers, and to whom my lord's life would be of no moment?

"I pray you, sir, stay with him but a brief time, and I will see where I can take him," I petitioned of the doctor; and he nodded, being in fact still busy over his patient, striving to restore him to consciousness after his long swoon. We had carried him beneath a group of fir trees, where the ground was soft and dry; and his cloak had been rolled up for a pillow beneath his head.

Leaving him there in good hands, I made my way to the rear of the army, where the baggage-waggons and guns were, and where I was sure I had seen a familiar face not long since—the face of a farmer from the neighbourhood of Bridgewater with whom I was acquainted, and who was, as I well knew, a kindly man, and a person of substance and importance. I had seen him in Bridgewater, too, and he had told me there that he was bringing six of his men to join the Duke, as well as two loads of provisions for the army. He had shown me one of his waggons—and waggons were not then so common as they are becoming now—and he was mighty proud of it. It was laden with provender for man and beast, and was to follow the army till the corn was all gone. It came into my head that if that waggon were to be returning empty now, I might get my lord conveyed as far as Bridgewater therein; and once at Bridgewater I should be amongst his friends and mine, and could get him tendance and comfort without fear of rebuff.

And not to make too long a story of it, I found the farmer, and the empty waggon too; and not only did he enter into my plans for my lord, but he said he would come back himself with us, which was a mighty comfort to me. He had seen enough of fighting—for there had been skirmishes all along the road these past days—to see that he was not made for a soldier. He had been somewhat scurvily treated by some of the officers, and though still loyal to the cause, he was weary of the long wet marches. He wanted to be at home again, to see how matters were going there. His ardour for a personal share in the campaign had considerably dwindled, and the whisper which was going round that it would not be long before the King's army was upon them four thousand strong, in which case a real engagement would become inevitable, added very much to his desire to find himself amongst more peaceable surroundings.

So he threw himself with great zeal into my plans for the Viscount. Together we collected moss in great quantities, and made a deep bed of it on the floor of the waggon; nor were we content till we had piled it up two feet high, so that it made the softest of beds for a wounded man. It was rather damp, to be sure; but the farmer's sacks were spread in great numbers upon the top, and we were both proud of our handiwork before it was done. There was some trouble in getting the two strong horses which had drawn the waggon; for horses were greatly needed by the army, and it was easier to bring them in than to take them away again. But by using the Duke's name, and by my making over my lord's charger, which I knew he would not want for many a week to come, and which was of real use in battle, we succeeded at last in getting our horses and yoking them to the waggon. The farmer had kept victuals enough for the journey, and we were resolved to start at once, and take a little-trodden route, so as to avoid the bands of soldiers hanging about the rear of the Duke's army, and perhaps by the morning to be clear of them.

Whilst thus bustling about in the camp, I heard news that I thought augured ill for the success of the Duke's arms. Since the capture of a few troopers of the enemy, with whom we had engaged not long since, in the engagement which had cost the Viscount so dear, it had been decided not to march on Bristol to-night. The Duke had heard that there was an army of four thousand men close at hand, and he was afraid that he should be attacked before and behind if he pursued his intention, and be discomfited altogether. He spoke now of turning aside to Bath, and trying to obtain possession of that place. For my part, I grieved to think that he should not seize upon the more important city, and one which was so well disposed towards him and so full of stores and all things that he needed. But I was no soldier, and moreover I had other matters to think of; and by the time we had reached the Viscount once more with our waggon, I had almost ceased to think of the Duke or the army, or indeed of anything in the world except my lord.

His eyes were half open now, and he gave me a feeble smile as I approached; but his voice was so weak that I was frightened, and had much ado to keep back my tears. I began to wonder whether we should ever get him to Bridgewater alive; but both the surgeon and the farmer were inclined to laugh at my fears, and to tell me I should make but a sorry soldier if I were so disconcerted at the sight of a little blood.

They both approved the plan of carrying him to Bridgewater, out of the immediate tide of battle. As for himself, he was so spent with pain and loss of blood that he could scarce take note of our words, and let us do with him what we would. He had lost much blood in the morning before this second wound laid him low; and I never saw living man look more like death than he did when at last he lay upon the couch we had made for him, wrapped up in his cloak and mine against the sharpness of the night air.

The surgeon looked at him thoughtfully.

"Take him gently, take him gently, and give him frequently to drink of this cordial. Get him away out of this harassed country, where nothing can be had save the bare necessaries of life. Get him to some quiet place where he can be tended and watched. He should do well then; but he lacks the toughness of fibre which a soldier needs. He is all fire and force, but the body is not seasoned. He has the soul of a soldier, but the frame of a girl."

I was rather indignant at the last words, albeit there was some truth in them; for my lord looked almost like some fair young maiden with his white face and golden hair, as he lay with closed eyes upon his couch. It was too much like the marble face of some sculptured monument not to awaken a sense of pain within me; but I fiercely held back my fears, and declared that I would save him yet—for Mistress Mary.

As we journeyed slowly through the summer night—and the night was fair and starlight, though the ground was heavy with the recent rain—I mused much of Mistress Mary, wondering how matters were going with her, and whether I should be able to see and speak with her when I was as near as Bridgewater, and whether perchance I might so contrive that she should have sight and speech of my lord.

I rode Blackbird close behind the waggon for the most part, and when we halted I strove to give the cordial to my lord, and to get him to take food; but this he could not be persuaded to do, and sometimes seemed so sunk in mists of weakness as to know neither me nor what was happening to him.

That long journey, which we accomplished safely in two days and three nights, seems always like a dream to me. We met with no mishap. We saw no soldiers or foes. The country people were kind, and brought us milk for my lord whenever we passed a village or farmstead, and listened with wondering eyes to our tale. I was just absorbed in striving to keep my lord alive till we could get him proper help and tendance. He lay almost like one dead, save when the pain of his wound would rouse him, if the road were more rough and bad than usual. Then he would strive to raise himself and ease his pain, and would sometimes speak my name in a tone of gentle fondness when I sought to do aught for his comfort. But the fever was ofttimes upon him too, and he would lie back with his lips moving and his eyes seeing things invisible to us; and at such times he would seem to be in converse with Mistress Mary or with the Duke, or commanding his men in some sudden attack of the enemy. It was often hard to keep him from rising and hurting himself; and night and day I had to watch him, afraid to close my eyes lest he should be wanting something or doing himself a mischief.

Right glad was I when at last, upon the evening of the second day, the sight of the familiar walls and chimneys of Bridgewater rose up before my weary eyes. My lord was lying like one dead in the cart, sunk in a deep unconsciousness, and I verily began to fear that he would die ere ever we could reach the town.

I took him straight to my uncle Robert's house—the Cross Keys Inn, as it was called—and there we met such a welcome as cheered my heart and took a load of anxiety from my mind.

All Bridgewater was agog for news of the army, and any follower of the Duke's was welcomed with the greatest love and kindliness. There was something in the beauty of my lord that appealed to all hearts at first sight of him; moreover, in Bridgewater he was well known and well loved for his own sake, and the people were ready to make an idol of him forthwith when they understood that he had given up everything to join the Duke, and that he had met his grievous wound in the good cause.

He was carried forthwith to the best bed-chamber in my uncle's house, and before long all the leeches in the town had gathered round him, and I was in the greatest fear lest they should want to use their lancets upon him—for such was the custom for almost every malady—and I had to repeat the words of Mr. Oliver many times over; but having done so, I saw that they would prevail.

The doctors looked at each other and nodded and shook their heads: one said that there might be something in the argument, whilst another said that an army surgeon ought to know what he was talking of. A third, the eldest, remarked that perhaps a sound sleep would be the best thing for the patient, and that he had a potion which would probably induce a long and sweet sleep, and he said he would at least try that before resorting to any other methods. All having agreed to this, the potion was given, and soon the furrows of pain smoothed themselves from my lord's brow, and he sank into a sleep very different from the trance-like condition in which he had lain often for half a day together in the waggon, and which seemed to me like a harbinger of coming life.

As soon as this was so I stretched myself on a couch at the foot of the bed and slept also; and I think never was sleep so sound or sweet as mine that Saturday night.

During the week which I spent in Bridgewater many things happened, and I scarce know in what order to tell them, nor which will seem of most moment to the reader. Perhaps that which at that time seemed of most moment to me—namely, that I succeeded in getting Mistress Mary Mead to ride out with me one day from Taunton, and spend a few hours beside my lord. Such a thing might not have been so easy to compass but for the excitement and stir prevailing at this time in both towns. It was a period of intense suspense. We knew not from day to day what news would be brought in. We heard all manner of rumours of which no man knew the origin. Sometimes we heard that the Duke's army had been cut to pieces and was in full flight; at others, that he had obtained a mighty victory over the King's forces, and was in full march for London, which was ready to receive him with open arms. One flying scout declared that there had been a fight at Philip's Norton, that at the first experience of real warfare the Duke's army had begun to melt, and that thousands had departed to their own homes. Another report said that Mr. Adlam from Wiltshire, with a great body of horse, was on his way to effect a junction with the Duke; whilst the club-men, ten thousand strong, had gathered somewhere upon Pedwell Plain, and had sent a message to the Duke promising to join him.

Perhaps some may not know what manner of men these club-men were; and indeed their proffer of assistance came to almost nothing in the end. I have heard that the club-men had their origin in the days of the civil war, when the people, finding themselves robbed and plundered by two rival armies without hope of redress or compensation, resolved to defend themselves from such attacks, and refuse to allow their property to be taken from them by either party. The men thus banded together were armed with clubs, and went by the name of club-men. Whether they were ever much of a power I know not, but from my boyhood I had heard them spoken of in the country; and now it was said that they were up and in arms, and ready to join the Duke in considerable numbers.

Another and a very disquieting rumour also reached us during this week, which was that the King had issued a manifesto to those engaged in the service of the Duke, to say that if within certain dates they should quit the Duke's army and join that of the King, they should be pardoned their rebellion, and be safe from all punishment. This promise, it was said, had had the effect of inducing many to quit the Duke's army; and so disheartened had our young uncrowned monarch become (so the voice of rumour said) with these desertions, and the failure of the Bristol project, and the slackness of the gentry to join him, that he had seriously spoken of flying with his officers to some neighbouring seaport and taking ship for Holland, leaving his army to avail themselves of the King's promise of clemency, and be safe from further harm.

You may guess what a ferment was stirred up in men's minds by all these contrary and disquieting rumours. Bridgewater and Taunton were all in a tumult from morning till night, waiting for fresh news, discussing what had last been brought, and sending messengers to and fro to seek tidings and ask their neighbours what they had heard. It was thus easier than it would have been at any other time to ride unnoticed from place to place. By the time Thursday came my lord began to show real traces of amendment. He was as weak as a sick child, and could scarce lift his head from the pillow, and at present he asked nothing of the news of the day, seeming too weak to wish to be disturbed. But the fever had left him, and the good soup and possets which my aunt made for him were bringing back his strength little by little; and so I felt that I might safely leave him for a day, and go to Taunton to seek tidings of my relations there, and, if possible, to gain speech of Mistress Mary and tell her of her lover.

All Taunton was in a fever of excitement when I arrived; and I heard that news had been brought thither that the Duke's army was actually in retreat, that no help had come from Wiltshire, that Argyll had been defeated in Scotland, that the army was deserting fast on all sides, and that the Duke, in great depression of spirits, was falling back upon those cities which had welcomed him at first. Also a messenger had come in with the notice of the King's promise to deserters from the cause, and a great tumult had been thereby stirred up, none knowing what effect such a manifesto might have upon the soldiers.

But what I chiefly noted was the change in the feelings of the Taunton citizens. They who had been so forward to welcome him at first were now talking together at street corners, and the words that I heard were such as these:—

"Let him not come back hither! Let him not return to Taunton! We gave him all we had last time. We plundered ourselves to furnish him. We have no more to offer. We shall be undone by a second visitation! Let him not come hither again. Let us send word whilst there is yet time that we want no second visit!"

What a change from the Taunton of a fortnight ago! I could scarce believe my ears. Well indeed has it been written that there is no confidence to be placed in any child of man! When I reached my uncle's house, I found the tone of his talk quite altered. Without openly asserting enmity to the Duke, he spoke in a way which made me certain that his heart had turned against him in the hour of adversity. Since no capture of Bristol had been made, and no rising amongst the gentry had followed the proclamation of the Duke's title to the throne, doubt and despondency had fallen upon Taunton; and my uncle, ever prone to sail with the wind, was amongst the first to listen with respect to Mr. Axe's persuasions and the arguments of the Mayor and magistrates, and avow himself on the side of law and order. He was sincerely relieved to find that I had been so little with the army, and that I was now at Bridgewater in quite a humble capacity as body servant to my lord. He advised me to dissuade my lord from mixing himself up any more in what he now termed a rebellion; and I was able to answer that I thought this would be an impossibility in the future, for my lord was like to be a long while healing of his wounds; whilst, if things did not take a turn, the Duke would scarce be here in arms more than a short time longer.

But I was very sad to find Taunton so changed: for I loved the Duke, and still cherished bright dreams of what England would be like living under the righteous sway of such a King. I thought I would go to Miss Blake's without delay, and give my account of my lord to her and Mistress Mary. I had scarce put into form my hope that she would come back with me and see him, and yet such was the case; for scarce had she fully comprehended that he lay in Bridgewater sick and wounded—wounded in the righteous cause—than she went up to Miss Blake, who was listening with tears of sympathy in her eyes, and said,—

"Prithee, dear madam, take me to him! I must see him, my gallant love, who has gotten this hurt in the good cause which, for love of me, he embraced. Ah! dear lady, the days be long and the way is short! Dicon will find us horses to take us. Prithee, take me there, dear madam, and I will bless thee to the last hour of my life!"

I know not what heart could have resisted Mistress Mary's sweet pleading; certainly not that of Miss Blake, who was as full of romance and enthusiasm as any girl, and whose loyalty towards the Duke had never failed nor faltered through good report or evil report. That is the way, I think, with women. Love is with them an instinct, and it is far more faithful and lasting than with men, who reason and think and weigh matters again and again in the balance. It mattered not to them that the cause was beginning to look gloomy, that some even went so far as to say it was lost. They loved and trusted just the same, and believed that right would be done at last; and since the Viscount had got his grievous wound in the righteous cause, and Mistress Mary must needs see him, her good friend rode forth willingly with her that day, and we reached Bridgewater before the sun had begun to get low in the sky.

As I have said, there was too much astir just then, too much coming and going, and talking and discussing, for the doings of quiet people to excite much comment. We rode forth without meeting any questions, and at Bridgewater, where the ladies were not known, no one paid any heed to us. The town was full of excitement because it was said that both the army of the Duke and the army of the King were drawing near, and some thought there would be a battle nigh against the town; whilst others averred that only the Duke was coming, and that he had already routed his foes. Any way, there was so much stir in the streets that none paused to look at us; and soon we alighted at my uncle's inn, whilst my aunt came forth to welcome the strangers, and listened in smiling amaze as I whispered my story in her ear.

"Nay, but thou hast brought him the best medicine of all, Dicon!" she exclaimed at the close; and when she had taken the visitors to the parlour, and had seen Mistress Mary without her riding-hood, her heart was more than won, and nothing was good enough for her. She bustled about to get the table set, whilst I went to my lord's room, and found him lately wakened from a sweet sleep, and looking more like himself than he had done since he was first laid low.

I did not tell him that Mistress Mary had come; I only told him that I had been to Taunton, and that I had seen and spoken with her. Even that word brought a flush of colour to the wan cheek—the first I had seen; and as he lay looking at me whilst I told of her, and tried to remember some of her words, the door behind us opened softly, and a light footstep crossed the floor.

The next moment I saw such a light leap into my lord's face that I knew in a moment who had come in.

"Mary—my Mary!" he cried, and would have lifted himself but that she came swiftly forward and laid her hand upon him to restrain him.

"Reginald," she said softly, "you have gotten your wound for my sake. I must needs come to help to heal it."

"It is healed already at sight of thee, sweetheart!" he said; and then I rose and stole forth from the chamber, for I felt that it was no longer any place for me.

CHAPTER XXI.

BACK AT BRIDGEWATER.

"The Duke back in the town—here!" cried my lord, and he half rose from his pillows in his excitement; whilst Miss Blake and Mistress Mary, who were sitting together near to the pleasant oriel window, started up, and Mistress Mary exclaimed,—

"Sure I thought that I heard the sound of a distant tumult but now. Dicon, Dicon! art sure of it? What has brought him hither again? not misfortune? Say it is not misfortune!"

"Mistress, I know not the rights of it yet," I answered, breathless with the haste with which I had rushed back with the news. "All I can say is that he is here, and his army is fast following; that all the town is gone out to meet him, and that the streets are full of people all talking and welcoming him. There is no cloud on their faces. They are as glad and as loving as when he entered last. I stayed to ask nothing, but fled back with the news. I saw him riding bravely amidst his officers, and I missed no familiar face. If some of his soldiers have deserted him, I think his captains are stanch."

"Back at Bridgewater!" repeated my lord, who had sunk again upon his pillows, being indeed too feeble to sit up. "That is strange! Is it a retreat, or but a piece of strategy? Dicon, go forth and ask more, and come and tell us again. Where are the Wiltshire horse of which we have heard? Ask that, good Dicon. And how about the march upon London? Has that, too, been abandoned? Does the Duke think his work is done when but a few ungarrisoned towns in the West stand for his cause?"

"Dear love, be not dismayed," said Mistress Mary, rising and coming towards him with that light in her eyes which I knew so well. "What does it matter to God whether deliverance is wrought by many or by few? He is the God of battles. He fights ever upon the rightful side. Why need our hearts quake or feel fear? All will be well. The Lord will arise, and His enemies will be scattered!"

I saw a strange smile cross the Viscount's face as Mistress Mary spoke these words in that full, sweet voice of hers that was like music in his ears. He did not answer, but put out his uninjured hand, and she came and laid hers upon it. Then they looked into each other's eyes, and I think that all thoughts of the Duke or of coming warfare passed out of the minds of both. I have lived to see something of the power of love in human lives, but I think I never saw such beautiful and perfect love as that which existed between my lord and fair Mistress Mary. From the time, only a day and a half now, since she had first appeared beside him, he had made a wonderful advance on the road to recovery; and Miss Blake had, of her own accord, offered to stay for a few days at the inn, that Mistress Mary might help to nurse her lover back to health and strength. Just now the whole country was so disturbed that the movements of private individuals were not like to attract notice. Lord Lonsdale had gone to London, Mr. Blewer was away none knew whither. There was nobody to note the absence of Mistress Mary from her accustomed home; and if any asked for her, he would be content on knowing that she was away with Miss Blake upon a visit. Her guardian, the only person who could interfere, was at a safe distance, and there was no schooling going on at such a time of excitement. Many parents had removed their daughters in affright at the turn affairs were taking, and at the prominent way in which Miss Blake and her pupils had come forward on the occasion of the proclamation of the kingship of the Duke. So it was easy for both to be absent just now; and it was the best of medicines for my lord to see the sweet face of Mistress Mary beside him, and to be ministered to by her gentle hands. I was never afraid to leave him now, and just at this exciting time was glad of my liberty.

I rushed forthwith into the streets again, and soon found my way to the soldiers' quarters, where they were being bountifully done to by the loyal towns-folk. There was nothing of dismay or fear in their aspect, and they told us of a gallant victory they had won at Philip's Norton over the enemy. I never had a very clear idea of what that battle was like, for some said one thing and some another; but it was plain our army had discomfited that of the false King, and that after some sharp fighting, and a good deal of cannonading which had made great noise but done little hurt, the rival army had drawn off in retreat, leaving our bold fellows masters of the field.

Why they had not then marched forward instead of retreating backward is a matter I have never fully understood. I think the men themselves did not know. Some said that they had not enough horse to cross Salisbury Plain, since Mr. Adlam had not brought his promised troop; and others, that the Duke was still thinking of a retrograde move upon Bristol. But however that may have been, the men were very bold of aspect and full of martial ardour. They admitted that there had been a good many desertions after the fight at Philip's Norton. Numbers of poor yokels, who had never seen war before, and had been scared by the guns and disheartened by the hardships of the wet marches and lack of food, had deserted to their homes upon finding themselves so near. But the stouter-hearted fellows who remained laughed at the poor spirit of these comrades, and vowed themselves better off without them. Mistress Mary, when she heard, looked at her lover with one of her radiant glances, and said,—

"Is it not like that sifting of Gideon's little band? All who were faint-hearted were to go to their own homes. In a holy cause we want none but those whose hearts are set upon the noble end, and who know not a thought of faltering and fear. Oh, I am glad there has been such a sifting! I think that God will never work with unworthy instruments. Dear love, how I would that thou couldst go forth with them again! Yet I will not even repine at that, since thy hurt was gotten in a righteous cause, and I have the sweet task of ministering to thee."

Such sweet words and looks went far to reconcile my lord to the fret and weariness of sickness. I think he scarce felt the pain of his wounds when Mistress Mary was by; and if his nights were sometimes restless and full of feverish visions of disquiet (for my lord always felt that ill would come of this thing), by day his lady's presence would chase these visions away, and give him that rest of body and mind which his state so greatly needed.

The next day, Saturday, completed the week which we had spent at Bridgewater, and certainly a great change for the better had taken place in my lord's condition. He was so much stronger that I sometimes thought he would ask speech of some of his brothers in arms, now in the town once more; but he never did. And it may be that this thing was the saving of him in the days which quickly followed, for I do not think his presence in the town was ever really known. Men had so much to think of in those days that faces and names slipped out of their minds, and there was such coming and going that none could rightly say who was here and who was not. We had not thought to keep my lord's presence a secret, yet I verily believe the thing remained hidden from knowledge. He lay in a large chamber well out of the way of the noise of the inn, and Mistress Mary took the charge of him, with Miss Blake to help her, and in all the excitement and stir in the place that quiet upper chamber and its occupant were well-nigh forgotten.

Saturday was a day of rejoicing to the town. It was said that help was at hand, though none knew exactly from whence it was coming. A report that eight thousand troops from France had been landed to quell the insurrection in the West was proved to be untrue. Messengers had been sent out from the Duke in various directions, and the people believed that great things would come of it. The march upon London was still eagerly spoken of, and it was in all men's mouths that news was daily looked for of a rising there; whilst lower whispers declared that there was a plot on foot to stab the usurping King in Whitehall, and that Colonel Danvers had declared he believed it would soon be done, the people being so incensed against him, and that then the Duke would only have to march boldly forward to find himself King of all the realm.