CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
THE CADGERS ON DANGEROUS GROUND.
"Yonner be the big city at last! Glad I am. Ain't you that, Jinkum?"
It was Jerky Jack who spoke, the exclamation meant for his sister, whowas with him, the interrogation addressed to the donkey.
They were not upon any of the Forest roads, but quite on the other sideof the Severn, trudging along towards Bristol, the big city whose spiresJack had caught sight of.
One could almost fancy that the dumb brute comprehended the questionfacetiously put; at the words elevating its head, giving a wallop or twowith its long ears, and mending the pace.
"It be good three mile to go yet," rejoined the woman. "Just that fraethe cross roads--a bit forrard."
"Well, Winny; us ought to get theer by seven o' the clock?"
"So us ought, if nothin' stop we," and she cast an anxious glance alongthe road ahead.
"Don't think theer be much danger o' gettin' stopt now. The Governor o'Glo'ster sayed when's we got well on maybe we'd meet some o' the Bristolsodgers patrollin' about. Weesh we did. 'Tain't noways comfortabletravellin', all o' the time in fear o' being pulled up and knocked aboutby them Cavalieres. Ha! ha! If that party we passed at Berkeley cud a'seed through my wooden leg, 'tain't likely I'd be stumpin' along here?"
"True. But 'tain't wise to cry safe till one be sure o' it. Ye knowthey told us in Glo'ster that the King's dragoneers ha' it all their ownway in the country places; him's they call Prince Roopert, goin' aboutlike a ragin' lion, runnin' people through, an' shootin' 'em down wi'pistols as if they were no better than dogs. It's a big risk us berunnin', Jack!"
"Right you bees, theer. But then--the reward, Winny! If us only getsafe inside, it ought be worth mor'n the profits on a twelvemonth o'cadgin'. Don't ye think 'twill?"
"Coorse I do."
She spoke in all sincerity. Whatever the money reward Jerky Jack waslooking forward to, the woman had another in view, also contingent ontheir safe arrival inside the city,--one she thought worth far more thanmoney. For there she would, or should, meet a man she had not seen formonths, though ardently longing to see him. Scarce necessary to say,Rob Wilde was the individual, when it was known that the erstdeer-stealer of Dean Forest was now a soldier--first sergeant of a troopforming part of the force then garrisoning Bristol.
"Yee-up, Jinkum?" cried Jack, encouraged by his sister's words, at thesame time conscious as she of the danger alluded to, and the probabilityof their yet encountering obstruction. It was just after the capture ofCirencester by Prince Rupert; a massacre, sparing neither man nor woman,friend nor foe; they who survived it having been carried, or ratherdragged, off to Oxford in triumphal train, a feast for the eyes of theKing. To meet it, he, with his _entourage_ of courtiers and sycophants,sallied forth from the city of colleges--but not of education ormanners--supreme capital of conceit and snobbery, almost as much then asnow. They were met miles out, coming from Witney, by hundreds ofhalf-naked people, shivering in the chill frost of a winter's day, wearyand footsore, covered with mud from the roads they had been driven overas cattle to market!
An impartial historian, or certainly not one who favours the Parliament,thus records the cruel episode:--"Tying them in pairs, they were marchedto Oxford. The King, with many nobles and commanders and people of thecity, went forth to witness their arrival. They formed a long line uponthe road, escorted by two troops of cavalry. Among them were gentlemenand ministers, and a mixed multitude of soldiers, husbandmen, andtownsmen. The ways were foul with the trampling of horses; the captiveshad gone sometimes knee deep in mire, beaten and driven along like jadedbeasts, all of them weary, and many of them wounded. In this wretchedtrain appeared a ghastly figure, naked, and, because he was unable tomarch with the rest, mounted upon the bare back of a horse. His formwas manly and handsome; though exhausted, he sat upright with anundaunted air, and the remarkable fairness of his bodily complexion washeightened, where it was not concealed, by gore from many a gapingwound. As he drew near the King, a brawling woman cried aloud tohim--`Ah, you traitorous rogue! You are well enough served.' He turnedupon her a scornful look, retorted a term of base reproach, sunk fromhis seat, and expired."
Such was the spectacle to which the ruffian Rupert treated his uncleafter the taking of Cirencester at the expense of its unfortunatecitizens. And the "kind-hearted King" looked upon it without showing aspark of pity, while his courtiers gloated over it in a very exuberanceof joy, even insulting the wretched captives by ribald speech, whilegiving gleeful and fulsome congratulations to their inhuman captors.
The fall of Cirencester was the prelude to that of Tewkesbury,Malmesbury, and Devizes, all hitherto held by Parliamentary forces;while the strong castles of Sudley and Berkeley had also to be evacuatedby them, changing garrisons and showing new flags above their _donjons_.So close pressed at this time were the partisans of the Parliament inthe border shires that Massey was all but cooped up in Gloucester, whilethe new governor of Bristol was almost equally engaged within theSeaport of the Severn.
Not strange, then, Jerky and his sister having fear to encounter the"Cavalieres," as Jack called them. Though as humble cadgers, they wouldnot be exempt from outrage at the hands of the Royalists; one of whom,Hastings, son of an aristocratic nobleman, had obtained such notorietyin this line as to be called "Rob-carrier." The princely plunderer,Rupert, had set the fashion, and wherever he and his troopers hadcontrol, the routes were only passable for travellers at the risk ofbeing stripped, as by highwaymen, and butchered in cold blood on theslightest show of resistance.
It was no market commodity, however, about which Jerky and his sisterwere apprehensive, nor aught else carried in Jinkum's panniers--thesebeing absolutely empty. What it was could not be learnt from anythingseen upon the donkey or the persons of its owners; though Jack'sallusion to his wooden leg, with certain eventualities contingent on itsbeing seen through, seemed to point to some mysterious matter. Whateverit might be, no more speech was heard concerning it then, Jerky withanother "Yee-up!" adding,--
"Three mile more, Jinkum, and ye'll be in the snug corner o' an innstable-yard, wi' a measure of barley or beans at your nose. Think o'that!"
Despite the evident hurry the cadger was in, no thwack of stickaccompanied the words. Nor was any needed; the night was well-nigh on,the air piercingly cold, the road frost-bound, with nothing on eitherside that even an ass could eat, and Jinkum, hungry enough, seemed toknow something of that snug stable-yard which promised barley or beans.So, setting ears as if determined to reach the city soon as possible, itagain briskened its pace.
The firm frozen ground favoured speed, enabling Jinkum to go gingerlyalong. It was equally favourable to Jack, with his timber leg, or hewould have had ado to keep up with the donkey. As it was, no time wasleft him for aught else than quick tramping, the rough and now darkenedpath calling for all the attention he could bestow on it to save himfrom a tumble. But he had no need to trouble himself with any look-outahead. That was left to the big sister, who, stepping out some paces inadvance, scanned the road at every turn and corner. She saw nothing,however, to be apprehended. If there were any "Cavalieres" in theneighbourhood, either the hour--between day and night--or the pinchingcold, kept them confined to their quarters. At all events, neitherCavaliers, nor wayfarers of any other speciality, were encountered bythem, and for their last three miles of trudge towards Bristol they hadthe road all to themselves.