CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT.
A FIGHT IN A FLOOD.
Still but half-way across the inundated tract, and up to theirsaddle-girths in water, Rupert and his escort were floundering on. Asalready said, they marched "by twos"--this necessitated by thenarrowness of the causeway--and so were lengthened in line. Two hundredhorse in file formation take up a long stretch of road, however closethe order.
They had not yet sighted the enemy behind, nor had any intimation thatone was there. For the snapping up of the guard had been done withlittle noise, the few shouts uttered being inaudible to them amid thecontinuous splashing and plunging of their own horses.
It was only after the pursuing party was well out into the flood, clearof the tree-shadowed shore, that some of the hindmost, chancing to lookback, saw what they took to be their rear-guard in the water and ridingafter them. Saw it with surprise, as the signal for its advance had notbeen given; no note of bugle sounded. Neither could it be in retreat,driven in. There had been no firing, not a shot; and, by the Prince'sorders, there should have been a prolonged fusilade Guard of his, rearor van, retiring from its post without execution of his commands, hadbetter have stayed and delivered itself up to the enemy.
Well knowing this, they who first sighted the pursuers, thinking them oftheir own, were enough astonished to give way to ejaculations. Whichran along the line quick as lightning.
"What is it?" demanded he at the head, on hearing them.
"The rear-guard, your Highness," answered one away at the back."They're coming on after us."
"Halt!" shouted the Prince, in a voice of thunder, half-wheeling hishorse, spurring out to the utmost edge of firm footing, and, with cranedneck, looking back land-ward.
For a time to see nothing much beyond the tail end of his escort. Onlythe grey glimmer of water, with here and there the top of a pollardwillow. For the capricious clouds had once more muffled the moon.
But he heard something; the sound of the wading horses, that made by hisown now ceased from their being at a stand.
And soon he saw the moving ones; the clouds, by like caprice, havingquickly drawn off their screen, letting full moonlight down upon thewater. Saw them with alarm; for a dark mass was that in motion, toodark and too large for the score or so of files that had been detachedas a guard.
"_Gott_, Colonel!" he exclaimed, "there are more men there than we leftwith Trevor. And why should he be coming on contrary to orders? Itcannot be he?"
"Very strange if it be, Prince," rejoined Lunsford, the colonel spokento; "and stranger still if not."
"Could a party have slipped past without the guard seeing them?"
"Hardly possible, your Highness; unless by some swimming, and a longroundabout way. These seem to come direct from it."
The two talked hurriedly, and with dismay upon their faces. For thedark mysterious thing, still drawing nigher and nearer, seemed someunearthly monster--a hydra approaching to destroy them.
There was no time for further conjecturing. Friend or enemy, it must bemet face to face; and Rupert, commanding the "about," put spur to hishorse and started towards the rear of the line.
Time elapsed ere he could reach it. The deep water, with the menwheeling in file, impeded him; and, before he was half-way rearward,there were shots, shouts, and the clashing of steel--all the sounds of aconflict. The monster had closed up, and declared its character, ascould be told by the hostile war words "King?" and "Parliament?"fiercely commingling.
Never shone moon on a stranger affair in the way of fight. Two longstrings of horsemen confronting one another on a narrow causeway, whereless than half a score of each could come to blows; no engaging in line,no turning, or flank attack, possible. And all up to the saddle flapsin water; up to the horses' hips where the fighting was hand to hand.
Nor for long did it last. Little more than a minute after coming toclose quarters the Royalists found themselves overmatched, and began togive way. File after file went down before their impetuous assailants,sabred, or shot out of their saddles, till at length they doubled backon their line in retreat towards its former front. Some, in panic,forsook the causeway altogether, plunging into the flood on either side,in the hope to escape by swimming afar off.
Sword in hand, with curses on his lips, Rupert met the rout, burstinghis way through the broken ranks, slashing right and left in anendeavour to stem the retreat. More than one of his own men fell beforehis desperate fury. But on reaching the rear, he had to cross bladeswith a man who was his master at sword-play, and all the skillappertaining. Which he knew, soon as coming to the "engage," and in hisantagonist recognising Sir Richard Walwyn.
It was quick work between them; at the very first lunge from guard, thePrince's sword getting whipped out of his hand, and sent whirling offinto the water! The old trick by which Sir Richard had disarmed theex-gentleman-usher.
With a fierce oath Rupert drew a pistol from his holster, and was aboutto fire at his adroit adversary, when another face presented itselfbefore him, that of a man he had better reason to shoot down.
"Dog! Traitor! Turncoat!" he shouted, in tone of vengeful anger."'Tis to you we owe this! I give you death in payment!" And the shotsped, tumbling Reginald Trevor out of the saddle.
But there was still a Trevor on horseback to confront the Prince, withsword already fleshed and blade dripping blood. A touch of his spurbrought him face to face with Rupert, and alone. For, just as thelatter, Sir Richard had caught sight of another man he more wished tohave dealings with--Lunsford--and dashed straight towards him.
But not to attain close quarters. In the cowardly ex-lieutenant of theTower there was neither fight nor stand. The sight of Colonel Walwynwas of itself enough to palsy his hands; alone the bridle one obeyinghim. And with it, wrenching his horse round, he made ignominiousretreat.
No more did the other pair get engaged. Rupert had but his secondpistol, which, being discharged at Eustace Trevor, fortunately withouteffect, left him weaponless; and, seeing all his escort in retreat, heturned tail too, soon disappearing amid the ruck.
The route now complete, with the scarlet coats it was _sauve qui peut_;with the green ones only a question of cutting down the panic-strickenfugitives, or making prisoner those who cried "Quarter!" And most criedthat--shouted it to the utmost strength of their lungs.
On went the victorious Foresters along the flooded way, alternatelysabreing and capturing--the big sergeant and Hubert doing their fullshare of both--on till they came to a party of captives they had nottaken. Nor guarded these; their late guards having been too glad to getaway, leaving them to themselves.
"Sabrina!" "Richard?"--"Vaga!" "Eustace?"
Four names, pronounced in joyous exclamation amid the din, and by fourdistinct voices; all with the epithet "dear" conjoined.
Not another word then, not another moment there; for the pursuit must becontinued. The capture of Prince Rupert would be a thing ofconsequence, independent of all private feelings; and Sir Richard longedto settle scores with Lunsford. So on went he, and his, in chase of thenow scattered escort.
But not again to come up with the pair of profligates. The stoppage,short as it was, had given them time to make Framilode Ferry; where,leaping from their horses, and into a light boat, they were out ofsword's reach, and range of bullet, before the pursuers could close uponthem.
Still within earshot of angry speech, however, hurled after them by thetriumphant Foresters, with many a taunt, many the vile epithet bestowed.
A degradation deserved; and other men than they would have felt itssting and shame. But not this scion of Royalty, toast, type, and modelof Cavalierism. Happy at having escaped with a whole skin, he butlaughed back, rejoicing in the life still left him for future crimes tobe committed.
And many the one was he afterwards guilty of; though short from thattime was his rule in the city of Bristol. Once again, and soon, was itenfiladed by an armed force, not for siege or leaguer, but instantassault. For the man
who commanded was he who, later on, gave laws toall England, gave her the only glimpse of real liberty she has everenjoyed--the only gleam of true glory. When Cromwell stood beforeBristol's gates, and said "Surrender!" it was in no tone of doubtingrequisition, but stern demand. The son of Elector Palatinate, hearingit hastened to comply, but too glad to get terms for his life.
Which he got, with his liberty, and more--far too much being conceded byhis generous conqueror--permitted to march out, bag and baggage, with along retinue of bullies, sycophants, and strumpets, leaving behind alonger list of victims, among them the ill-starred Clarisse Lalande. Ashe passed away from the place he had made a "place of bawdry," it wasamid jeers and bitter curses.
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A scene pleasanter to describe--one more congenial to honest pen--occurred shortly after in the sister city of Gloucester, within itsancient Cathedral, at whose altar simultaneously stood four couples inthe act of being made man and wife.
Wedded they were, and their names entered in the big book of marriageregistry; from which the writer does not deem it necessary to copy them_verbatim_. Enough to give them as already known to the reader; thebrides being Sabrina and Vaga Powell, Winifred, and Gwenthian; theirrespective bridegrooms Colonel Sir Richard Walwyn, Captain EustaceTrevor, Sergeant Wilde, and Trumpeter Hubert.
While being made happy, amid the many joyous faces around, one alonewore a cast of sadness, yet with resignation--that of Reginald Trevor,still living. For the shot which struck him out of his saddle on theflooded causeway of Framilode had but wounded him, and he was wellagain. In body, not spirit; for within his heart was a wound that mightnever be well. He had suffered bitterly, was still suffering; but withsoul now purified and subdued was better able to bear it, and bore itmanfully. Generously too; for just as, when meeting his cousin outsideHollymead gate he had offered him his sword to avenge defeat, nowhonoured he him by his presence at a ceremony which was as the sacrificeof himself.
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Still another incident calls for record: of date some six years later,and some months preceding that event which again brought England'sliberty to its lowest ebb, her glory to greatest shame--the so-calledRestoration. Before this curse of curses came, Ambrose Powell,predicting it--foreseeing evil to him and his--gathered up his householdgods, and took ship with them to the colonies across the Atlantic,accompanied by all the personages who had appeared at that marriageceremony in the cathedral of Gloucester, and by many more--Cadger Jackamong them.
Reginald Trevor, too, was of the colonising band; long become accustomedto bearing the broken heart, which "brokenly lives on," with but littlepain, growing ever less. For he could now look upon Vaga Powell as hiscousin's wife; to himself as a kind sister--almost without thought ofthe unhappy past.
Well was it for all of them they went away, to become part of thatpeople, the freest, most powerful, and most prosperous on earth. Hadthey stayed, it would have been to suffer persecution; the fate of allwho then fought for England's freedom, save the false ones and cravens,who cried "Quarter!"--on their knees, basely begged it from thatloathsome monster of iniquity--the "Merry Monarch."
And Rupert, Prince of Cavaliers, what became of him? He too returnedwith the Restoration--another of its curses--fresh from a long career ofpiracy in the West Indian seas, to be made Lord High Admiral of England,with no end of other honours and emoluments heaped upon him! To livefor years after a life of luxurious ease, die "in the purple," and beburied with all pomp and ceremony. For though a pirate, he was still aPrince of the Blood Royal!
THE END.
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