Boscobel: or, the royal oak. Ainsworth William Harrison

Boscobel: or, the royal oak - Ainsworth William Harrison


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of the royal army, Middleton found Colonel Legge, and learnt the disaster that had befallen him.

      "I cannot carry this bad news to his majesty," said Legge. "Tell him what has happened."

      "The king will not reproach you," said Middleton. "You have done your best. We have been betrayed."

      "That is certain," said Sir William Keith. "Lilburn was prepared for us."

      "And Cromwell himself was with the outpost when I attacked it," said Colonel Legge. "I knew it not till too late."

      "Would I had known it!" cried Middleton, furiously. "He should not have lived to boast of this triumph. One of his spies has served him well on this occasion. I will not rest till I have discovered the traitor."

      "Lesley may help you to find him," said Legge.

      "No; Lesley knew nothing of this," rejoined Middleton. "But come with me to the king, and get it over. A word will explain all. We have been betrayed."

       CHAPTER XX.

      HOW URSO GIVES WAS ARRESTED

      About the same time that the interview took place in the stable at Spetchley between Cromwell and Urso Gives, Major Careless, who had been upon the eastern walls to satisfy himself that the fires in the suburbs were completely extinguished, descended from the ramparts at Friars'-gate. This was one of the smaller gates, and derived its appellation from a convent of Franciscan friars that stood hard by – the old religious house having been subsequently converted into a prison.

      On quitting the ramparts, as just stated, Careless proceeded to the old hostelry of the Grey Friars, where he knew that several officers about to take part in the camisade would be assembled. The old inn – an ancient timber-built house, with quaint gables, and a projecting upper story – is still standing in Friars'-street.

      In the principal room of the old hostel he found, as he expected, a party of Cavaliers smoking, singing, and quaffing sack and claret, as if they had no serious business in hand. They were thus making merry to the last, since among them were Major Knox and some others, who, two hours later, were killed in the attack on the outpost. They were all fully armed with steel caps, gorgets, cuirasses, pauldrons, and taches, but had divested themselves of their swords and pistols. Beside each sword lay a small roll of linen. This was the shirt which its owner meant to wear over his armour, and which, in some cases, proved a winding-sheet.

      All the Cavaliers rose on Careless's appearance, and gave him a hearty welcome. He could not help being struck by the enthusiasm they displayed. Not one of them but seemed proud of being included in the dangerous enterprise. Not one but was ready to lay down his life for the king. Careless never afterwards recalled that meeting without heaving a sigh for the brave men who perished in the camisade. However, at the moment, he thought little of the hazard of the attack, and would gladly have joined in it if the king would have allowed him. Sitting down, he emptied the flagon of claret filled for him by Major Knox. Shortly afterwards Colonel Legge entered the room, but left again almost immediately, saying, as he departed, to Major Knox:

      "Half an hour hence you must all be at the place of rendezvous."

      Shortly afterwards Careless took leave of the company, and was proceeding along Friars'-street in the direction of the Sidbury-gate, when he heard his name pronounced in a familiar voice, that instantly awakened tender recollections, and turning, he perceived that he had been followed from the hostel by a young woman whose features were muffled in a hood.

      Not doubting who it was, he exclaimed:

      "Ah! is it you, Mary? I never expected to see you again."

      "And you would not see me now, I can assure you, if I had not something of importance to say," she rejoined, partially removing her hood.

      "Whatever has procured me the happiness of beholding you once more, sweet Mary, I feel grateful for it," he rejoined.

      "Speak not thus lightly," she said. "'Tis a grave matter."

      "Before you mention it, then, let me ask now you came to throw yourself away upon that detestable Roundhead? You must be heartily sick of him already."

      "If you persist in talking thus you will frighten me away, and I shall leave unsaid what I have to tell you – and it is very important."

      "Nay, by all that is bewitching, I swear you shall not go," he cried, catching her hand.

      "Be serious, if you can, for a single instant, and listen to me."

      "Tell me you are resolved to abandon Urso, and I will be as serious as you please."

      "You put everything out of my head by your trifling talk. How very different you are from Urso, to be sure! He is always grave."

      "Yes, I warrant me you rarely catch a smile on his sour visage. But I hope there are few points of resemblance between him and me. Again I ask, how could you marry such a man?"

      "'Twas all my grandam's doing," she sighed.

      "And you have bitterly repented of the foolish step ever since, I'll be sworn. Confess, and I'll forgive you, though, I own, the effort will be difficult."

      "Then pray don't make it. Unless you listen to my warning, you will fall into a snare that has been privily laid for you."

      "Privily laid for me by Urso, eh? The Roundhead rogue had better take care of himself, or you will speedily become a widow."

      "It is not of Urso I would warn you. Do not take part in the camisade to-night."

      "The camisade!" he exclaimed, in surprise. "How do you know there is to be a camisade? Who has told you of it? Answer me that."

      All his levity had vanished. As she did not answer, he repeated the question still more peremptorily.

      "No matter who told me," she rejoined. "If you value your life you will not go. I have warned you. Do as you please. Farewell!"

      "Stay! we must not part thus. You spoke of a snare being privily laid for me. What was your meaning?"

      "I will tell you nothing more," she rejoined.

      And breaking from him, she flew towards the inn.

      Just as she reached the door the Cavaliers came forth in a body. Some of them tried to stop her, but she pushed them aside and got into the house.

      Careless thought of following her and insisting on an explanation, but after a moment's reflection he concluded that, since she was lodging at the inn, she must have overheard the loud and indiscreet talk of the Cavaliers, and so have ascertained the nature of the enterprise on which they were engaged. As to the "privily-laid snare" of which he had been warned, the expression savoured strongly of Urso, and probably meant nothing in particular.

      Having arrived at this conclusion he marched off, with the fixed determination of paying another visit to the old hostel on the morrow.

      But before the morrow came he was undeceived, and he then bitterly regretted that he had neglected the warning given him.

      So well was the secret kept, that only the troops actually engaged in the camisade were aware of its object. Many heard of the enterprise and of its failure at the same time. When the attacking party was driven back, a call to arms was instantly made by the Duke of Hamilton and all the commanders stationed on the south and south-east, lest Cromwell should follow up his success by an immediate assault on the city. But it soon became apparent that he had no such design, and though the Royalists remained on the alert, they were not disturbed during the remainder of the night.

      To Charles, who had made certain of success, the failure of the enterprise was a terrible disappointment. But he bore it manfully, as he bore all his reverses. He had remained at the Commandery in order that he might receive the earliest intelligence of the victory he so confidently anticipated, and was seated in the refectory, trying to while away the time in light chat with Careless, when General Middleton, followed by Sir William Keith and Colonel Legge entered the hall. Charles read what had happened in their downcast looks, and for a moment forbore to question them.

      "Fortune has played me another sorry trick, I perceive," he exclaimed, at length. "I thought the fickle goddess would this


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