Page 48 of No Quarter!


  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

  OLD COMRADES.

  "Well, Dick, for a man who's just captured a city, you look strangelydownhearted--more like as if you'd been captured yourself."

  It was Colonel Robert Kyrle who made the odd observation; he to whom itwas addressed being Colonel Sir Richard Walwyn. The time was betweenmidnight and morning, some two hours after Monmouth had succumbed totheir strategic _coup-de-main_; the place Kyrle's own quarters, whitherhe had conducted his old comrade-in-arms to give him lodgment for therest of the night.

  Snug quarters they were, in every way well provided. Kyrle was a man ofmoney, and liked good living whether he fought for King or forParliament. A table was between them, on which were some remains of asupper, with wines of the best, and they were quaffing freely, as mightbe expected of soldiers after a fight or fatiguing march.

  "Yet to you," added Kyrle, "Massey owes the taking of Monmouth."

  "Rather say to yourself, Kyrle. Give the devil his due," returned theknight, with a peculiar smile.

  Notwithstanding his serious mood at the moment, he could not resist ajest so opportune. He knew it would not offend his old comrade, as itdid not. On the contrary, Kyrle seemed rather to relish it, with alight laugh rejoining,--

  "Little fear of him you allude to being cheated of his dues this time.No doubt for all that's been done I'll get my full share of credit,however little creditable to myself. They'll call me all sorts ofnames, the vilest in the Cavalier vocabulary; and, God knows, it's got agood stock of them. What care I? Not the shaking of straw. Myconscience is clear, and my conduct guided by motives I'm not ashamedof--never shall be. You know them, Walwyn?"

  "I do, and respect them. I was just in the act of explaining things toMassey up by the Buckstone when your letter came--that carried in thecadger's wooden leg."

  "Most kind of you, Dick; though nothing more than I expected. Soon as Iheard of your being at the High Meadow, I made up my mind to join youthere, even if I went alone as a common deserter. Never was man moredisgusted with a cause than I with Cavalierism. It stinks of thebeerhouse and _bagnio_; here in Monmouth spiced with Papistry--noimprovement to its nasty savour. But the place will smell sweeter now.I'll make it. Massey has told me I'm to have command."

  "You are the man for it," said the knight approvingly. "And I am gladhe has given it to you. Nothing more than you're entitled to, afterwhat you've done."

  "Ah! 'tis you who did everything--planned everything. What cleverstrategy your thinking of such a ruse!"

  "Not half so clever as your carrying it out."

  "Well, Dick, between us we did the trick neatly, didn't we?"

  "Nothing could have been better. But how near it came to miscarrying!When they flung that Cornet in your teeth I almost gave it up."

  "I confess to some misgiving myself then. It looked awkward for awhile."

  "That indeed. And how you got out of it! Your tale of his cowardice,and threat to make short work with him, were so well affected I couldscarce keep from bursting into laughter. But what a simpleton thatfellow who had command of the bridge guard! Was he one of those we cutdown, think you?"

  "I fancy he was, and fear it. Among my late comrades there were many Iliked less than he."

  "And the Cornet, to whom you gave credit for making such good use of hisheels. Has he escaped?"

  "I've no doubt he's justified what I said of him by using them again.He's one that has a way of it. I suspect a great many of them got offon the other side--more than we've netted. But we shall know in themorning when we muster the birds taken, and beat up the covers wheresome will be in hiding. Hopelessly for them, as I'm acquainted withevery hole and corner in Monmouth."

  There was a short interval of silence, while Kyrle, as host, leant overthe table, took up a flagon of sack, and replenished their empty cups.On again turning to his guest he could see that same expression, whichhad led to him thinking him downhearted. Quite unlike what face of manshould be wearing who had so late gained glory--reaped a very harvest oflaurels--on more than one battlefield. The exciting topics justdiscoursed upon had for a time chased it away, but there it was oncemore.

  "Bless me, Walwyn! what is the matter with you?" asked Kyrle, as hepushed the refilled goblet towards him. "You could not look more sadlysolemn if I were Prince Rupert, and you my prisoner. Well, oldcomrade," he went on, without waiting for explanation, "if what'stroubling you be a secret, I shan't press you to answer. A love affair,I suppose, so won't say another word."

  "It _is_ a love affair in a way."

  "Well, Walwyn! you're the last man I'd have looked for to get his heartentangled--"

  "You mistake, Kyrle. It has nothing to do with my heart--in the senseyou're thinking of."

  "Whose heart then, or hearts? For there must be a pair of them."

  "You know young Trevor?"

  "I know all the Trevors--at least by repute."

  "He I refer to is Eustace--son of Sir William, by Abergavenny."

  "Ah! him I'm not personally acquainted with; though he's been here forseveral days--in prison. Lingen's men took him at Hollymead House, nearRuardean; brought him on to Monmouth on their way to Beachley; and goingback have carried him with them to Goodrich Castle. They left butyesterday, late in the evening. He's got a wound, I believe."

  "Yes. It's about that I'm uneasy. Can you tell me anything as to thenature of it? Dangerous, think you?"

  "That I can't say, not having seen him myself. Some one spoke of hisarm being in a sling. Likely it's but a sword cut, or the hack of ahalbert. But why are you so concerned about him, Dick? He's norelative of yours."

  "He's dearer to me than any relative I have, Kyrle. I love him as Iwould a brother. Besides, one, in whom I am interested, loves him in adifferent way."

  "Ah, yes! the lady of course; prime source and root of all evil."

  "In the present case the source of something good, however. But for thelady, in all likelihood Monmouth would still be under Royalist rule--nay, I may say surely would."

  "How so, Walwyn? What had she to do with the taking of Monmouth?"

  "A great deal--everything. She was the instigator; her motive you mayguess."

  "I see; to get young Trevor out of prison. Well!"

  "I had some difficulty in convincing Massey the thing was possible; and,but for her intercession with him, I might have failed doing so. Oursuccess at Beachley, however, settled it; especially when I laid beforehim the scheme we've been so fortunate in accomplishing."

  "Well, we should thank the lady for it. May I know who she is?"

  "Certainly. The daughter of Ambrose Powell, of Hollymead."

  "Ah! That explains why Trevor was there when taken?"

  "In a way, it does."

  "I've but slight acquaintance with Powell, myself; though, asneighbours, we were always on friendly terms. He and his family are nowin Gloucester, are they not?"

  "They are. For a time they stayed at Bristol--up to the surrender."

  "Luckily they're not there now. A sweet place that for anything in theshape of a young lady. Master Powell may thank his good star forgetting him and his out of it. Two daughters he has, if I rememberrightly, with names rather singular--Sabrina and Vaga?"

  "They are so named."

  "With whom is young Trevor in relations?"

  "The younger, Vaga. Poor girl! she'll be terribly disappointed when shehears of his having been carried on out of our reach, and so near beingrescued!"

  "Out of our reach!" said Kyrle, an odd expression coming over hisfeatures, as if some thought had struck him. "Is that so sure?"

  "Why not? He's in Goodrich Castle. You don't think it possible for usto take it?"

  "Not at present; though, by-and-by, it may be within the possibilities.No man wishes more than I to see the proud pile razed to the ground, andHenry Lingen hanged over the ruins. Many the fright he has given mypoor father with his cowardly threats. But I hope getting quits wi
thhim before the game's at an end."

  "What chance then of rescuing Trevor? Have you thought of any?"

  "I have. And not such a hopeless one either. You're willing to risksomething to get him free?"

  "Anything! My life, if need be."

  "That risk will be called for; mine too, if we make the attempt I'mthinking of."

  "An attempt! Tell me what it is. For heaven's sake, Kyrle, don't keepme in suspense!"

  "It's this, then. Lingen, it appears, don't intend lodging anyprisoners in Goodrich Castle. Since the affair at Beachley he has somefear of his castle being besieged; and in a siege the more mouths theworse for him. By the merest accident I heard all this yesterday; andthat the party he took away from here will be sent on to Hereford underescort first thing to-morrow morning--that is this morning, since it'snow drawing up to it."

  "I think I comprehend you, Kyrle."

  "You'd be dull if you didn't, Walwyn."

  "You mean for us to strike out along the Hereford Road, and interceptthe escort?"

  "Just so. 'Twill be venturing into the enemy's ground dangerously far;but with a bold dash we may do it."

  "We _will_ do it!"

  "What about leave from Massey? Do you think there will be anydifficulty in our getting that?"

  "I don't anticipate any. In my case he can't object. My command isindependent of him; the troop my own; and, though now numbering littleover a hundred, they are Foresters, and I've no fear to match themagainst twice their count of Lingen's Lancers--the gentlemen ofHereford, as they style themselves."

  "Then you agree to it? We go if Massey gives permission?"

  "I go, whether he gives it or not. In fact, I don't feel much caring toask him."

  "Egad! that may be the best way, and I'm willing to risk it too.Suppose we slip out without saying a word? Time's everything. Our onlychance with the escort will be to take them by surprise--an ambuscade.For that we'll have to be well along the Hereford road before daylight.I know the very spot; but we must be into the saddle at once."

  "Then at once let us into it!"