CHAPTER FIFTY.
AN AMBUSCADE.
Steaming at the nostrils Saladin was for the second time brought to astand, head to head with old stable comrades that snorted recognition.For with Colonel Walwyn was Rob Wilde and others of his troop.
A hurried explanation ensued, Sir Richard first asking,--
"Your guards? You were being escorted?"
"Yes; I've given them the slip."
"Where are they now?"
"Coming up the hill--you hear them?"
"Hush!" enjoined the knight, speaking to those around him; and allbecame silent, listening.
Voices, with a quick trample of hoofs, and at short intervals a call asof command, from far below and but faintly heard. The road was almostsubterranean, and wound up through a dense wood.
"What's their number?" again questioned the knight.
"Nigh two hundred--nearly all Lingen's force--and about twentyprisoners."
"Is Lingen with them?" eagerly asked an officer by Sir Richard's side,who seemed to share the command with him.
"Colonel Kyrle--Captain Trevor," said the knight, introducing them. "Isuppose you're aware we've taken Monmouth?"
"I was not; but am happy to hear it. Yes, Colonel," replying to Kyrle,"Lingen is with them; coming on in the pursuit."
Over the features of the ex-Royalist came an expression of almost savagejoy, as one who had been longing to confront an old and hated foe, andknew the opportunity near.
"I'm glad?" he exclaimed, as in soliloquy; then seemed to busy himselfabout his arms.
"His presence was near being a sorry thing for me--the inhumanscoundrel!" rejoined the escaped prisoner.
"How so?"
"I heard him give the order to fire on me, as I was making off."
"And they did?"
"Yes. Every one who could get piece, or pistol, ready in time."
"That explains the shots we heard, Walwyn. Well, young sir," to Trevor,"you seem to bear a charmed life. But we must back into ambush. Youtake the right, Dick; let me look to the left and give the cue to fallon. I ask that from my better knowing the ground."
"So be it!" assented Sir Richard, and the two commanders, parting rightand left, rode back a little way within the wood, where each had a bodyof horse drawn up, and ready for the charge.
The conversation, hurriedly carried on, had consumed but a few seconds'time; and in an instant after the causeway was clear again, only avidette left under cover to signal the approach of the pursuers.Captain Trevor, of course, went with his colonel, but now carrying asword and pistols; supernumerary weapons which had been found for him bySergeant Wilde.
A profound silence succeeded; for the horses of the Parliamentarians,after two years' campaigning, had become veterans as the men themselves,and trained to keeping still. Not a neigh uttered; no noise save theslight tinkle of curb or bit, and an occasional angry stamp at bite ofthe _bree_ fly. But the one could not be distinguished, even at shortdistance, amid the continuous screeching of jays, and oft-repeated_glu-glu-gluck_ of the green woodpecker, whose domain was being intrudedon; while the other might be mistaken for colts at pasture.
To the surprise of all in ambuscade, the pursuing party appeared to becoming on very slowly; and in truth was it so. Two reasons retardedthem. Their horses were not Saladins, and the best of them had becomeblown in their gallop against the steep acclivity more than a mile inlength. But the riders themselves had grown discouraged. In their lastglimpse got of the fugitive he was so far ahead, and his mount showingsuch matchless speed, it seemed idle to continue the chase. They buthoped that some chance party of Scudamore's men from Hereford might bepatrolling the road farther on, and intercept him. So, instead ofpressing the pursuit with ardour, they lagged on it; toiling up thesteep in straggled line, and at a crawl.
Some twenty of the best horsed, however, had forged a long distanceahead of the others, who were following in twos and threes, with wideintervals between. And among the laggards was Lingen, instead of in thelead, as might be expected in the commander of a partisan troop. Fondof display, and that day designing exhibition of it, he rode a chargerof superb appearance; one of the sort for show, not work. As aconsequence, after the first spurt of the pursuit, he had fallenhundreds of yards behind, and was half-inclined to turn round and rideback to the inn, under pretence of looking after his other prisoners.
But there was no going back for those who had pushed on, nor muchfarther forward. Having surmounted the summit of the pitch, they hearda heavy trampling of hoofs, with the dreaded slogan, "God and theParliament!" and saw two large bodies of horse, one on each flank,simultaneously closing upon them. At a charging gallop these came on,so quick the surprised party had no time either to turn back or make adash onward, ere seeing the road blocked before and behind.
A surround complete as sudden, accompanied by the demand "Surrender!"made in tone of determination that would not brook refusal.
Of the score of Cavaliers so challenged, not one had the heart to saynay. They had left their courage below with their spilled wine cups,and now cried "Quarter!" in very chorus, delivering up their armswithout striking blow, or firing shot.
"Where's Harry Lingen?" cried Kyrle, spurring into their midst withdrawn sword. "I don't see his face among you." Adding, with a sneer,"Such a valiant leader should be at the head of his men!"
Then fixing on one he knew to be a cornet of Lingen's Light Horse, hevociferated,--
"Say where your colonel is, sirrah! or I'll run you through the ribs."
"Down the hill--behind somewhere," stammered out the threatenedsubaltern. "He was with us when we commenced the pursuit."
Riding clear of the crowd Kyrle glanced interrogatively down the road.To see the tails of horses disappearing round a corner; some of thepursuers, who, catching sight of what was above, had made about face,and were galloping back.
"Let us after them, Walwyn! What say you?" hurriedly proposed Kyrle.
"Just what I was thinking of. Trevor tells me most of their prisonersare my own men, those taken at Hollymead. They shall be rescued,whatever the risk."
"Not much risk now, I fancy. Lingen's lot are so demoralised they won'tstand a charge. We needn't fear following them up to the gates ofGoodrich Castle. And we can get back to Monmouth that way, well as theother."
"That way we go," then said the knight determinedly; and down the pitchstarted the two colonels with their respective followers, a detailhaving been hastily told off to guard the prisoners just taken.
Meanwhile the Sheriff had been balancing between advance and return.Vexed with the cause which retarded him, he was vowing he would neveragain bestride the showy brute, when he saw several of his men comingback down the pitch at breakneck speed, as they approached calling out,"Treason! A surprise!"
"Treason! What mean you?" he demanded, drawing his sword, and stoppingthem in their headlong flight. "Are you mad, fellows?"
"No, Colonel; not mad. Some one has betrayed us into an ambuscade. TheRoundheads are up the hill; hundreds--thousands of them?"
"Who says so?"
"We saw them, Sir Henry."
"You couldn't have seen Roundheads. There are none on these roads. Itmust be some of Scudamore's men from Hereford. Fools! you've beenfrightened at your own shadows."
"But, Colonel, they've taken a party of ours prisoners; all that wereahead of us. We heard the `Surrender!' and saw them surrounded."
"I shall see it myself before I believe it. About, and on with me!"
The men thus commanded, however reluctant to return towards the summit,knew better than to disobey. But their obedience was not insisted upon.In the narrow way, ere he could pass to place himself at their head, ahorseman came galloping from below, and pulled up by his side. Acourier with horse in a lather of sweat, showing he must have ridden farand fast. But the slip of paper, hurriedly drawn from his doublet andhanded to the Sheriff, told all.
Unfolding it, he read,--
"Kyrle has betrayed us. Massey in Monmouth. Large body of Horse--several hundred--Walwyn's Forest troop, and some of Kyrle's old handswith the traitor himself, gone out along the Hereford road this morningbefore daybreak. Destination not known. Be on your guard."
The informal despatch, which showed signs of being written in greathaste, was without any signature. None was needed; the bearer,personally known to Lingen, giving further details _viva voce_; whileits contents too truly confirmed the report just brought by the soldiersfrom the other side.
Among Cavaliers Sir Henry Lingen was of the bravest, and would not cryback from any encounter with fair chances. But he was not foolhardy,nor lacking prudence when the occasion called for it. And there seemedsuch occasion now. He knew something of Sir Richard Walwyn and hisForesters, as also of Kyrle and his following, and what he might expectfrom both. They would not likely be out that way unless in strongforce. Several hundred, the despatch said--pity it was not more exact--while his own numbered less than two. Besides, if the returningsoldiers were not mistaken, twenty of them had been already snapped up;and the rest would make but a poor fight, if they stood ground at all.He rather thought they would not now; and so reflecting reined hisunwieldy charger round, and rode back down the pitch, at a much betterpace than he had ascended it.
Picking up all stragglers on the way, he meant doing the same with hisprisoners left at the inn. But before he had even reached it, he heardhoof-strokes thundering down the hill behind in a multitudinous clatter,that bespoke a large body of horse coming close upon his heels. Soclose, he no longer thought of cumbering himself with prisoners, butswept on past those at the hostelry in a _sauve qui peut_ flight, theirguards going along, and leaving them there in a state of supremebewilderment.
Not long, however, till they understood why they had been so abruptlyabandoned. In less than five minutes after, broke upon their view thebanner of the sword-stabbed crown, and beneath it coats of Lincolngreen, with hats plumed from the tail of Chanticleer, the uniform of theForest troop--their own.
In a trice they were freed from their fastenings, and armed with theweapons taken from the party of Cavaliers that had been caught by thehead of the pitch. Riding their horses, too, after a quick exchange--inshort, everything reversed--then away from their halting-place withcheers and at charging gallop, no longer prisoners, but pursuers!
Never did the chances and changes of war receive better or more singularillustration than upon that autumn's morn along the road betweenAcornbury and Goodrich. At early daybreak a Royalist host, in noisyjubilance, conducting a score of dejected captives towards Hereford;and, before the sun had attained meridian height, a like number ofprisoners going in the opposite direction, under guard of Parliamentarysoldiers!
Some difference, however, in the mode of march and rate of speed: theformer leisurely slow, as a triumphal procession; the latter a hot,eager pursuit that permitted no tarrying by the way. Nor was there onthe return passage either jesting or laughter; instead, now and thenshouts in stern, angry tone--the demand, "Surrender!" as some fleeingCavalier, cursed with a short-winded horse, had to pull up, and call out"Quarter!"
So on to the gates of Goodrich Castle, into which Lingen, _malgre_ hisindifferent mount, contrived to enter, quick closing them behind.
The pursuit could go no farther, nor the pursuers make entrance afterhim. In that strong fortress he might bid defiance to cavalry--even thebest artillery of the time. Famine only had he to fear.
But to so shut him up--so humiliate him--was a triumph for Kyrle, hisancient foe; and as the latter turned away from the defying walls, thesmile upon his face told how greatly it gratified him. A _revanche_ hehad gained for some wrongs Lingen had done his father; and, now that hewas himself to rule in Monmouth, he had hopes, ere long, to make a realrevenge of it, by razing Goodrich Castle to its foundation stones.