CHAPTER FORTY NINE.
AN UPHILL CHASE.
At sight of the glistening gems a sudden change had come over thefeatures of the trooper, their expression of surliness being displacedby that of intense cupidity. But for this he might have considered whythe offer of such valuable consideration for so trifling a service. Asit was, he had no suspicion of it; though on both sides the dialogue hadbeen carried on in guarded undertone. For this their reasons weredistinct, each having his own. That of the prisoner is already known;while a simple instinct had guided the corporal--a fear that thenegotiation between them might not be altogether agreeable to hissuperiors.
More cautious than ever after declaring it a bargain, he glancedfurtively to the front, then rearward, to assure himself they had notbeen overheard, nor their _tete-a-tete_ noticed by any of the officers.
It seemed all right, none of these being near; and his next thought washow to effect the exchange agreed upon. The files were wide apart, withvery little order in the line of march--a circumstance observed byEustace Trevor with satisfaction, as likely to help him in his design.They were passing though a district unoccupied by any enemy and wheresurprise was the last thing to be thought of. But even straggled out aswas the troop, any transfer of horses, however adroitly done, would notonly be remarked upon, but cause a block in the marching column, thewhich might bring about inquiry as to the reason, and the guard, if notthe prisoner, into trouble.
"Ye maun ha' patience for a bit," said the former, in view of thedifficulty. "'Tan't safe for me to be seen changin' horses on the road.But ye won't ha' long to wait; only till we get to the bottom o' thathill ye see ahead, Acornbury it be called. There we can do the thing."
"Why there?"
The question was put with a special object, apart from the questioner'simpatience.
"Cause o' an inn that be theer. It stand this side o' where the pitchbegins. The Sheriff always stops at it goin' from Goodrich to Hereford,an' he be sure o' makin' halt the day. When's we be halted--yecomprehend, Captain?"
The man had grown civil almost to friendliness. The prospect ofbecoming possessed of a valuable ring for but an hour's loan of his newhorse had worked wonders. Could he but have known that he washypothecating the more valuable animal with but slight chance ofredeeming it, the bargain would have been off on the instant. Hisavarice blinded him; and his prisoner now felt good as sure he wouldsoon have Saladin once more between his knees.
"I do comprehend--quite," was the young officer's satisfied response;and they rode on without further speech, both purposely refraining fromit.
The corporal might have saved his breath in imparting the situation ofthe inn under Acornbury Hill. Eustace Trevor knew the house well as he;perhaps better, having more than once baited his horse there. Familiarwas he with the roads and country around, not so far from his nativeplace by Abergavenny. Besides, he had an uncle who lived nearer, and asa boy, with his cousins, had ridden and sported all over the district.This topographical knowledge was now likely to stand him in stead; andas he thought of the Monmouth road joining that he was on near the headof Acornbury pitch, he fairly trembled with excitement. Could he butreach their point of junction on Saladin's back he would be free.
How he longed to arrive at the roadside hostelry! Every second seemed aminute, every minute an hour!
It was reached at length, and his suspense brought to an end. True toexpectation, a halt was commanded; and the extended line, closing up,came to a stand on the open ground before the inn. A scrambling houseof antique architecture, its swing sign suspended from the limb of anoaken giant, whose spreading branches shadowed a large space in front.
Under this Lingen and his officers made stop, still keeping to theirsaddles, and calling to Boniface and his assistants to serve them there.It was only for a draught they had drawn up, the journey too short toneed resting their horses. Nor was there any dismounting among the rankand file rearward, save where some trooper whose girths had got loosenedtook the opportunity to drop down and tighten them.
Seeming to do the same was the corporal in charge of Eustace Trevor, hisprisoner too, both on the ground together. Only an instant till theywere in the saddle again, but with changed horses, and the blood-crustedring at the bottom of the corporal's pocket. Meanwhile the officersunder the tree had got served, and, cups in hand, were quaffingjoyously. In high glee all; for the sun, now well up, promised a daygloriously fine, and they were about to make entry into Hereford withflying colours. Nearly twenty prisoners, it would be as a triumphalprocession.
A cry, strangely intoned, brought their merriment to an abrupt end; achorus of shouts, quick following with the clatter of hoofs. Turning,they saw one on horseback just parting from the troop, as if his horsehad bolted and was running away with him!
But no. "Prisoner escaping!" came the call, as every one could now seeit was. The man in rich garb, but soiled and torn; the horse a bit ofblood none of their prisoners had been riding. One of the officers theyhad taken--which?
The question was answered by the High Sheriff himself--
"Zounds! it's that young renegade, Trevor! He mustn't escape,gentlemen. All after him!"
Down went tankards and flagons, dashed to the ground, spilling the winethey had not time to drink; and off all set, swords drawn, and spursburied rowel deep.
The common men, save those cumbered with prisoners, joined in thepursuit; some unslinging lances or firelocks, others plucking pistolsfrom their holsters.
"Shoot!" shouted Lingen. "Bring him down, or the horse!"
It was the critical moment for the fugitive, and in modern days wouldhave been fatal to him. But the old _snap-hans_ and clumsy horse pistolof the Stuart times were little reliable for a shot upon the wing, andas a winged bird Saladin was sweeping away. Both volley and stragglingfire failed to stay him; and ere the pursuers were well laid on, thepursued was at least fifty lengths ahead of the foremost.
Up the hill, towards Hereford, was he heading! This a surprise to all.In that direction were only his enemies; and he could as easily havegone off in the opposite, with hope of getting to Gloucester. Atstarting he had even to pass the group of officers under the tree. Andwhy setting his face for Hereford--as it were rushing out of one trap torun into another?
He knew better. Fleeing to the capital of the county was the farthestthing from his thoughts. His goal was Monmouth; but first the forkingof the roads on the shoulder of Acornbury Hill. That reached, with no_contretemps_ between, he might bid defiance to the clattering ruck inhis rear.
The distance he was so rapidly gaining upon them told him he had notbeen mistaken about the superior qualities of his steed. If the lattershould show bottom as it already had heels, his chances of escape weregood. And the omens seemed all in his favour: his own horse so oddlyrestored to him; the luck of that ring left un-pilfered during hisimprisonment; and, lastly, to have come unscathed out of the shower ofbullets sent after him! They had whistled past his ears, not onetouching him or the horse.
He thought of these things when far enough ahead to reflect; and thefarther he rode the greater grew his confidence. Saladin would be sureto justify his good opinion of him.
And Saladin seemed to quite comprehend the situation. He at least knewhis real owner and master was once more on his back, which meantsomething. And having received word and sign for best speed--the first"On!" the last a peculiar pressure of the rider's knees--he needed nourging of whip or spur. Without them he was doing his utmost.
Up the pitch went he as hare against hill; up the channel-like trackwaybetween escarpments of the old red sandstone that looked like artificialwalls; on upward, breasting the steep with as much apparent ease asthough he galloped along level ground. No fear of anything equineovertaking him; no danger now, for the pursuers were out of sight roundmany turnings of the road; the hue and cry was growing fainter andfarther off, and the stone which marked the forking of the routes wouldsoon be in sight.
 
; Eustace Trevor's heart throbbed with emotions it had long been astranger to, for they were sweet. He now felt good as sure he would getoff, and to escape in such fashion would do something to restore hissoldierly repute, forfeited by the affair of Hollymead. Nothing hadmore exasperated him than his facile capture there; above all, the lightin which a certain lady would regard it; but now he could claim creditfor a deed--
"Not done yet!" was his muttered exclamation, interrupting the pleasanttrain of thought, as he reined his horse to a sudden halt.
He was approaching the head of the pitch, had almost surmounted it, whenhe saw what seemed to tell him his attempt at escape was a failure; allhis strategy, with the swiftness of his steed, to no purpose. A partyof mounted men, just breaking cover from among some trees, and aligningthemselves across the road. At the same instant came the customaryhail,--"Who are you for?"
The dazzle of the sun right before his face, and behind their backs,hindered his seeing aught to give a clue to their character--only theglance of arms and accoutrements proclaiming them soldiers. And as nosoldiers were like to be there save on the Royalist side, to declarehimself truthfully, and respond "For the Parliament," would be topronounce his own doom. Yet he hated in his heart to cry "For theKing." Nor would the deception serve him. They coming on behind wouldsoon be up, and lay it bare.
He glanced to right and left, only to see that he was still between highbanks of the sunken causeway. On neither side a possibility of scalingthem to escape across country. It was but a question, then, to which heshould surrender--the foe in front, or that he had late eluded?
There was not much to choose between them; in either case he would bereturned to the Sheriff of Hereford; but to cut short suspense hedecided on giving himself up at once. The road was blocked by the partyof horse, and, weaponless, to attempt running the gauntlet of them wouldbe to get piked out of his saddle, or cut to pieces in it.
These observations and reflections occupied but an instant, to end inhis responding,--
"For the Parliament?"
He might as well make a clean breast of it, and tell the truth.
"We see you are. Come on!"
Surprised was he at the rejoinder as at the voice that gave utterance toit, which seemed familiar to him. But his surprise became astonishmentwhen the speaker added, "Quick, Trevor! we're in ambuscade;" and drawingnearer, the sun now out of his eyes, he saw that well-known banneret,with sword-pierced crown in its field, waving above the head of SirRichard Walwyn!