CHAPTER XVII.
THE MARCH TO PRESTON.
It was more from the exhaustion of hunger than any other cause that Ifainted, and being come to myself, I was given food and thereafteraccommodated with a horse; so that without any great delay thecalvacade proceeded to its rendezvous. We fell in with Mr. Forster atthe top of a hill, which they call the Waterfalls, and swelled hisnumbers to a considerable degree, there being altogether gathered atthis spot, now that we were come, near upon sixty horse, gentlemen andtheir attendants, and all armed. After a short council it was decidedthat we should march northwards and meet Brigadier Macintosh at Kelso.Besides, argued Mr. Forster, there was great reason to believe, thatif we did but appear before the walls, Newcastle would open its gatesto us; in the which case we should not only add largely to our forcesbut secure that of which we stood most in need--I mean ordnance andammunition. "For," said he, "Sir William Blackett, whose interest isvery considerable in the town, has armed and enlisted in troops allthe colliers and keelmen and miners in his pay, and does but wait forus to set them in motion."
Accordingly, in the height of confidence and good spirits, the littleband set out towards Plainfield on the river Coquett, though for mypart I could but ponder in the greatest distress upon the desertedaspect of Applegarth. Nor was Lord Derwentwater in any way able torelieve my fears, seeing that he had himself been seeking refuge fromone place to another. I was driven therefore to persuade myself, asthe best hope which offered, that Mr. Curwen and his daughter hadembarked in the _Swallow_ and were now come safely to France. Yet,somehow, the while I persuaded myself, my heart sank with the thoughtof the distance that was between us.
We came that night to Rothbury, and sleeping there, marched the nextmorning to Warkworth, where, the day being Saturday, the 7th ofOctober, Mr. Forster resolved to lie until the Monday. It was in theparish church of Warkworth that Mr. Buxton, our chaplain, first prayedpublicly for King James III., substituting that name for King George,and it was in Warkworth too that King James was first of all inEngland proclaimed King of Great Britain. I remember standing in themarket-place listening to the huzzaing of our forces and watching thehats go up in the air, with how heavy a heart! So that many chided mefor the dull face I wore. But I was picturing to myself the delightwith which Dorothy would have viewed the scene. I could see her eyesparkle, her little hand clench upon her whip; I could hear her voicemaking a harmony of these discordant shouts.
On Monday we rode out of Warkworth, and being joined by many gentlemenat Alnwick and other places, and in particular by seventy Scots Horseat Felton Bridge, marched into Morpeth, three hundred strong, allmounted. For we would entertain no foot, since we had not sufficientarms even for those we had mounted, and moreover were in a great hasteto surprise Newcastle. To this end we hurried to Hexham, where we werejoined by some more Scots Horse, and drew out from there on to a moorabout three miles distant It was there that we sustained our firstdisappointment. For intelligence was brought to us from Newcastle thatthe magistrates having got wind of our designs, had gathered thetrain-bands and militia within the walls, and that the gates were sofar from opening to receive us that they had been walled up andfortified with stone and lime to such a degree of strength thatwithout cannon it was useless to attempt them.
Accordingly we marched chapfallen back to Hexham and lay there untilthe 18th, with no very definite idea of what we should do nextHowever, on the 18th a man came running into the town crying thatGeneral Carpenter with Churchill's Dragoons and Hotham's foot, and Iknow not what other regiments, had on this very day arrived atNewcastle from London, and without an instant's delay had set aboutpreparing to attack us. The news, you may be sure, threw us into apretty commotion, and the colour of our hopes quite faded. Messengerssped backwards and forwards between General Forster and LordDerwentwater and Captain Shaftoe; councils were held, broken up,reformed again; the whole camp hummed and sputtered like a boilingkettle. I passed that day in the greatest despair, for if this risingfailed, every way was I undone. It was not merely that I should losemy life, but I should lose it without securing that for which I haddesigned it--I mean Mr. Herbert's liberation. In the midst of thisflurry and confusion, however, Mr. Burnett of Carlips rode intoHexham, with a message that Viscount Kenmure, and the Earls ofNithsdale, Carnwath, and Wintoun had entered England from the westernparts of Scotland and were even now at Rothbury. Mr. Forster returnedan express that we would advance to them the next morning; the whichwe did, greatly enheartened by the pat chance of their arrival, andbeing joined together with them marched in a body to Wooler on thefollowing day and rested the Friday in that village.
We crossed the Tweed and entered Kelso on the 22nd of October, andabout an hour after our entry the Highlanders, with their outlandishbagpipes playing the strangest skirling melodies, were led in by oldMackintosh from the Scots side. The joy we all had at the sight ofthem may be easily imagined, and indeed the expression of it by someof the baser followers was so extravagant that a man can hardlydescribe it with any dignity. But I think we all halloo'd them as oursaviours, and so even persuaded our ears to find pleasure in therasping of their pipes.
The next day being Sunday, Lord Kenmure ordered that Divine Serviceshould be held in the great Kirk of Kelso, at which Papists andProtestants, Highlanders and Englishmen attended very reverentlytogether; and I believe this was the first time that the rubric of theChurch of England was ever read on this side of the Forth in Scotland.Mr. Patten, I remember, who after turned his coat to save his life,preached from a text of Deuteronomy, "The right of the first-born ishis." And very eloquent, I am told, his sermon was, though I heardlittle of it, being occupied rather with the gathering of men aboutme, and wondering whether at the long last we had the tips of ourfingers upon this much-contested crown. For the Highlanders, thoughpoorly armed and clad, had the hardiest look of any men that ever Isaw. My great question, indeed, was whether amongst their nobles theyhad one who could lead. For on our side, except for Captains NicholasWogan, and Shaftoe, we had few who were versed in military arts, andMr. Forster betrayed to my thinking more of the incompetency of theborn Parliament-man than the resourceful instinct of the bornstrategist; in which opinion, I may say, I was fully warrantedafterwards by that fatal omission in regard to Kibble Bridge.
On the Monday morning the Highlanders were drawn up in the churchyardand marched thence to the market-place, in all the bravery of flagsflying, and drums beating, and pipes playing. There they were formedinto a circle, and within that circle another circle of the GentlemenVolunteers, whereof through the bounty of Lord Derwentwater, insupplying me with money and arms, I was now become one; and withinthat circle stood the noblemen. Thereupon a trumpet sounded, andsilence being obtained, the Earl of Dumferling proclaimed King James,and read thereafter the famous manifesto which the Earl of Mar sentfrom his camp at Perth by the hand of Mr. Robert Douglas.
We continued, then, in Kelso until the following Thursday, the 27th ofOctober, our force being now augmented, what with footmen and horse,to the number of fourteen hundred. The delay, however, gave GeneralCarpenter time to approach us from Newcastle, and he on this sameThursday came to Wooler and lay there the night, intending to draw outto Kelso and give us battle on the following day. No sooner was theintelligence received than Lord Kenmure calls a council of war, andhere at once it was seen that our present union was very much upon thesurface. For whereas Earl Wintoun was all for marching into the westof Scotland, others were for passing the Tweed and attacking GeneralCarpenter. For, said they, "in the first place, his troops must needsbe fatigued, and in the second they do not count more than fivehundred men all told, whereof the regiments of Dragoons are newlyraised and have seen no service."
Now, either of these proposals would in all probability have tended toour advantage, but when a multitude of counsels conflict, it is everupon some weak compromise that men fall at last; and so it came aboutthat we marched away to Jedburgh, intending thence to c
ross themountains into England. Here it was that our troubles with theHighlanders began. For they would not be persuaded to cross theborders, saying that once they were in England they would be taken andsold as slaves, a piece of ignorance wherein it was supposed LordWintoun had tutored them. Consequently our plans were changed again,and instead of crossing into North Tynedale, we turned aside toHawick, the Highlanders protesting that they would not keep with usfor the distance of an inch upon English soil.
From Hawick we marched to Langholme, a little market-town belonging tothe Duchess of Buccleugh; and there we made another very greatmistake. For here the Earl of Wintoun strongly advised that we shouldmake ourselves masters of Dumfries, and to that end, indeed, adetachment of cavalry was sent forward in the night to Ecclefechan.And no doubt the advice was just and the plan easy of accomplishment.Dumfries, he urged, was unfortified either by walls or trainbands; itstood upon a navigable river whereby we might have succours fromFrance; it opened a passage to Glasgow; and the possession of sowealthy a town would give us great credit with the country gentlementhereabouts, and so be the means of enlarging the command. All thesearguments he advanced, as Lord Derwentwater, who was present at thecouncil, informed me, with singular moderation of tone, but findingthat they made no sort of headway with the English party:
"It is sheer folly and madness," he burst out. "You are so eager toreap your doubtful crops in Lancashire, that you will not stoop to thecorn that lies cut at your feet. I tell you, there are many stands ofarms stored in the Tolbooth and a great quantity of gunpowder in theTron Steeple, which you can have for the mere taking. But you willnot, no, you will not. Good God, sirs, your King's at stake, and ifyou understand not that, your lives;" and so he bounced out of theroom.
The truth is we of the English party were so buoyed up by theexpresses we received from Lancashire that nothing would content usbut we must march hot-foot into England. And though, of course, I hadno part or share in the decision of our course, I was none the lessglad that our side prevailed, nay, more glad than the rest, since Ihad an added motive. For so long as we remained in Scotland therewould be no disturbance of administration in England. Examinationswould be conducted, assizes would be held, and for all I knew, Mr.Herbert might be condemned and hanged while we were yet marching andcountermarching upon the borders. The thought of that possibility waslike a sword above my head; I raged against my ignorance of the placeof Mr. Herbert's detention. Had I but known it, I think that in thishesitation of our leaders I would have foregone those chances ofescape which the rebellion promised, and ridden off at night todeliver myself to the authorities. For it was no longer of mydishonour, if I failed to bring the matter to a happy event, at leastfor Anthony Herbert and his wife, that I thought. But the prospect offailure struck at something deeper within me. It seemed in truth toreach out sullying hands towards Dorothy. I held it in some queer wayas a debt to her, due in payment for my knowledge of her, that Ishould fulfil this duty to its last letter. So whenever these councilswere in the holding, I would pace up and down before the General'squarters, as a man will before the house in which his mistress liessick; and when the counsellors came forth, you may be sure I was atLord Derwentwater's elbow on the instant, and the first to hear thedecision agreed upon.
From Langholme, then, we crossed into England. It is no part of mystory to describe our march to Preston, and I need only make mentionof one incident during its continuance which had an intimate effectupon my own particular fortunes.
This incident occurred when we were some ten miles out of Penrith. Thewhole army was drawn up upon a hill and lying upon its arms to restthe men. I was standing by the side of young Mr. Chorley, with my eyestowards Appleby, when Mr. Richard Stokoe, who acted as quartermasterto Lord Derwentwater's troop, suddenly cried out behind me--
"Lord save us! Who is this old put of a fellow?"
"He mounts the white cockade," said young Mr. Chorley, turning andshading his eyes with his hand.
"And moves a living arsenal," said the other with a laugh.
"Yet hardly so dangerous as his companion, I should think."
"Very like. We'll set her in front of the troops, and so march toLondon with never a shot fired. But, Clavering!" he cried of a sudden."What ails the man?"
But Clavering was galloping down the hillside by this time, and didnot draw rein to answer him. For the old put of a fellow and hiscompanion were no other than Mr. Curwen and his daughter. A livingarsenal was in truth no bad description of the old gentleman; for hecarried a couple of old muskets slung across his shoulders, a pair ofbig pistols were stuck in his belt, another pair protruded from theholsters, a long straight sword slapped and rattled against his leg,while a woodman's axe was slung across his body.
When I was a hundred yards from the pair I slackened my horse's speed:when the hundred yards had narrowed to fifty, I stopped altogether.For I remembered my unceremonious departure from Applegarth, and wastroubled to think with what mien they would accost me. I need,however, have harboured no fears upon that score. For Mr. Curwen criedout:
"I wagered Dorothy the sun to a guinea-piece that we should find youhere."
"I did not take the wager," cries Dorothy, as she drew rein; she addeddemurely, "But only because he could not have paid had he lost."
They were followed at a little distance by some half a dozen shepherdsand labourers mounted on ponies, which, to say the least, had longsince passed their climacteric, and armed with any makeshift of aweapon which had happened to come handy. The troop drew up in a line,and Mr. Curwen surveyed them with some pride.
"They lack a banner," said he, regretfully. "I would have had Dorothyembroider one of silk for Roger Purdy, in the smock there, tocarry--straighten your shoulders, Roger!--a white rose opening, on aground of sky-blue, but----"
"But Dorothy had some slight sense of humour," says she, "and so wouldnot."
"Then," said I, with a glance of perplexity towards the girl, "youare, indeed, come to join us?" For I could not but wonder that she whohad so resolutely removed her father from the excitement of thepreceding intrigues, should now second his participation in thegreater excitement of the actual conflict.
"Indeed," he cries, "I am; and Dorothy has come so far to wish us aGod-speed, but will return again with Dawson there. What did I tellyou, Mr. Clavering? There is a work for the weakest arm. But you aresurprised!"
"I am surprised," I answered, "that Mary Tyson is not here as well."
"Ah," said he, "do you know, Mr. Clavering, I fear me I have done someinjustice to Mary Tyson. I thought her a poor witless body." Dorothymade a movement, and he hurriedly interposed, "The best of servants,but," and he glanced again defiantly at his daughter, "a poor witlessbody outside the household service. But since the messenger came withthe constables to Applegarth, she has shown great good sense, exceptin the matter of simples. For, indeed, my pockets are packed withthem."
"The constables came to Applegarth!" I exclaimed, bethinking me ofJervas Rookley's threat. "And when was that?"
Miss Curwen, I noticed, was looking at me with a singular intentnessas I uttered the exclamation, and gave a little nod of comprehensionas I asked the question. It was as though my asking it assured her ofsomething which she had suspected.
"When?" echoed Mr. Curwen, with a smile. "Why, the morning you leftus. You were right in your surmise, and I take it very kindly that youdelayed so long as to scribble your gratitude, though that delay wasan added danger."
"Oh, I was right?" said I, though still not very clear as to what itwas that I had surmised correctly; and again Miss Curwen nodded.
"Yes!" said he, "but, indeed, it was early for travellers. But we werewaiting for you at the breakfast-table when we first heard thesheriff's horses. I was not sure that you would hear them at the backof the house."
"But one of the windows looked down the road," said I, understandingwhy he had seen no discourtesy in my precipitate departure. I couldnot in any case give the real reason which had prompted me to that,and s
ince here was one offered to me, why, I thought it best to fallin with it--"the window about which I hunted so long for the owl," Iadded, turning to Miss Curwen, For her manner of a minute ago warnedme that she put no great faith in her father's explanation of myconduct, and I was desirous to test the point.
"You hunted vainly," said she, "because the owl flitted one night,"and so left me in doubt.
"That is true," continued Mr. Curwen to me. "I did not think of thewindow, and indeed was somewhat puzzled by the quickness of yourescape. For I sent Mary Tyson to warn you the while I barricaded thedoor and held a parley with the sheriff from the window. She came backto tell me you were gone."
"Would she had come back quicker!" exclaimed Dorothy with a shudder.
"Why?" I cried at the sight of her distress. "Was there--wasthere--any hurt done? Oh no, not to you. I could never forgivemyself."
"No, not to us," replied Mr. Curwen. "Dorothy takes the matter toomuch to heart. Had she fired of a purpose she would have been right,or very little to blame. For I am old-fashioned enough to consider aguest sacred as an altar-vessel. But since she fired by mistake----"
"Miss Curwen fired!" I said.
"And shot the sheriff from behind my shoulder," continued Mr. Curwen.
"Father!" she entreated, covering her face with her hands.
"Nay, child," said he, reassuringly. "There was no great harm done. Afew weeks with his arm in a sling."
"But I saw the blood redden through his sleeve!" cried she, drawingher hands down from her face and clasping them together. And as thoughto rid herself of the topic she jogged her bridle and rode forward.
I turned my horse and followed with Mr. Curwen, the while he gave memore precise account of what had happened.
"The sheriff took an absurd and threatening tone when he found thedoor barred, which suited me very ill. So I bade Dorothy load mypistols while I parleyed with the man. He threatened me in I know nothow many Latin words and in a tone of great injury, whereupon,perceiving that, since he spoke a learned tongue and wore the look ofa gentleman, it would be no derogation, I threw down my glove as agage and challenged him to take it up."
I shot a glance at Mr. Curwen, but he spoke in a simple, ordinaryvoice.
"Instead of doing that," he continued, "he disappointed me greatly bya violent flow of abuse, which was cut short on the instant byDorothy's pistol. She was standing behind me, who stood on a chair,and fired beneath my arm. 'Oh, the poor dear!' she cried, 'I have hurthim,' and plumped down in a faint. It was indeed the luckiest accidentin the world, for the constables, seeing their chief wounded, weresufficiently scared to stay no longer than gave them time to pick himup."
"But all this occurred a month ago!" I exclaimed, "Surely thesheriff's men returned."
"In the evening; but they found no one at Applegarth. Dorothy and Iwith Mary Tyson were on our way to Carlisle. The other servants I sentto their homes. We have good friends at Carlisle, Mr. Clavering," hesaid, with one of his prodigiously cunning winks, "very good, safefriends. We said good-bye to them when your army had passed Carlisle,and so returned home."
"And Miss Curwen?" I asked. "What of her, since you come with us?"
"She will be safe at home now," said he, "and Mary Tyson is there tobear her company."
"She will be safe, no doubt," said I, "so long as we keep the upperhand."
We were by this time come to the top of the hill, and Dorothy wasalready talking to Lord Derwentwater.
"So," says he, coming forward and taking Mr. Curwen by the hand, "hereare the four of us proscribed."
"We will wear our warrants for an order at St. James's Palace," criesDorothy; and at that moment the trumpet sounded.
A brief leave-take between Dorothy and her father, and we weremarching down the hill, Mr. Curwen joined to the Gentlemen Volunteers,his six henchmen enrolled in Lord Derwentwater's troop.
Dorothy remained behind upon the hilltop with the servant who was toconvey her home, and though we marched away with our backs towardsher, I none the less gathered, as we went, some very distinctimpressions of her appearance. Nor can it be said that they were theoutcome of my recollections. For when I first saw her riding towardsthe hill, I was only conscious that it was she riding towards me, andvery wonderful it seemed. And afterwards, when I heard her voice, Iwas only conscious that it was she who was talking, and very wonderfulthat seemed too. But I did not remark the particulars of herappearance. Now as we were marching away, I gained very distinctimpressions, as for instance of: item a little cocked hat like aman's, only jauntier; item a green riding-coat; item a red waistcoat,etc. The truth is, my head was turned backwards all the time, and wehad not advanced more than a couple of hundred yards before my horsewas turned in the same direction. For I let myself fall to the rearuntil I was on the edge of the troops, and then faced about and fairlygalloped back to her.
She was looking with great intentness in the direction preciselyopposite to that from which I came; and as I halted by her side:
"Oh!" said she, turning in the most perfect surprise, "I did not thinkthat it would be you. I expected it would be my father."
"I gathered that," I replied, "from your indifference."
She answered nothing, but industriously stroked the mane of her horse.
"Now say 'owl,'" I added.
She began to laugh, then checked herself and looked at me with thechilliest stare.
"And if I did say 'owl,'" she asked in a puzzled simplicity, "would itrain?"
I began to wish that I had not spoken.
"Well?" she insisted, "what if I did say 'owl'?"
"I should say 'Robin Redbreast,'" I replied weakly.
"And a very delicate piece of wit, to be sure, Mr. Clavering," saysshe with her chin in the air. "You have learnt the soldier'sforwardness of tongue. Let me pray you have learnt his----" And then,thinking, I suppose, from my demeanour that I was sufficientlyabashed, she broke off of a sudden. "I would that I were a man," shecried, "and could swing a sword!"
She looked towards the little army which defiled between the fields,with the sun glinting upon musket and scabbard, and brought herclenched fist down upon the pommel of her saddle.
"Nay," said I, "you have done better than swing a sword. You have shota sheriff, though it was by accident."
She looked at me with a certain timidity.
"You do not blame me for that?"
"Blame you. And why?"
"I do not know. But you might think it--bloodthirsty," she said, witha quaver in her voice, betwixt a laugh and a cry.
"How could I, when you swooned the instant afterwards?"
"My father told you that!" she exclaimed gratefully; and then: "But hedid not tell you the truth of the matter. He said I fired by accident.But I did not; I meant to fire;" and she spoke as though she wasassuring me of something incredible. "Now what will you say?" sheasked anxiously.
"Why," said I foolishly, "since it was done to save your guest----"
"Oh dear, no," she interrupted coolly, and the anxiety changed towonder in her eyes. "Indeed, Mr. Clavering, you must not blameyourself that it was on your account I fired." She spoke with thegreatest sympathy. "You have no reason in the world to reproachyourself. It was because of my father. He threw down his glove fromthe window and challenged the sheriff to mortal combat, with whateverweapons he chose, and the sheriff called him--mad. It was that angeredme. I think, in truth, that I was mad. And since the pistol was loadedand pointed at the man, I--I pulled the trigger." Then she turned tome impulsively, "You will have a care of my father--the greatest care.Oh, promise me that!"
"Of a truth, I will," I replied fervently.
"Thank you," said she, and the old friendliness returned to her face."We could not keep him. From the day that he heard of the rising inNorthumberland, he has been in a fever. And he meant to go without ourknowing. You are familiar with his secrecies;" she gave a littlepathetical laugh. "He was ever scouring his pistols and guns in thecorner when he thought we should not see
him. He meant to go. I fearedthat he would slip from the house one night, like----" She caughtherself up sharply, with half a glance at me. "So it seemed best toencourage him to go openly. Besides," she added slowly, bending herhead a little over her horse's back--she seemed to be carefullyexamining the snaffle--"I thought it not unlikely that we should findyou here."
"Ah, you had that thought in your mind?" I cried, feeling my heartpulse within me. "Indeed, it turns my promise to a sacred obligation.What one man can do to keep your father safe, believe it, shall bedone by me." I was looking towards the receding army as I spoke, and anew thought struck me. "You would have let me go," I exclaimed inreproach, "without a hint of your request, had I not come back toyou?"
She coloured for an instant, but instead of answering the question--
"I knew you would come----" she began, and broke off suddenly. "Yes,why did you come back?" she asked in a voice of indifferent curiosity.
"I had not said good-bye to you. You gave me no chance, and it hurt meto part from you that way."
"But I thought that was your custom," she replied, with some touch ofresentment underneath the carelessness. "It would not have been thefirst time. You were careful not to leave a light burning in thestables the last night you quitted Applegarth."
"I saw that you knew."
"Yes," said she, hurriedly. "I heard your foot upon the gravel."
"But I said good-bye to the candle in your window all that night,until the morning broke from a shoulder of High Stile. I had to go.There were reasons."
She interrupted me again in a great hurry, and with so complete achange of manner that I wondered for a moment whether Mary Tyson hadrelated to her the conversation at the gate of the garden.
"I have no wish to hear them," she said with a certain pride.
"Nor I to tell you of them," I returned, and doubtless I spoke in ahumble and despondent voice.
"I do not know the secret," she said gently; "but if I can help you atall----" she relapsed into gentleness. "Why, you are helping me, and Iwould gladly pay you in the same coin."
"Nay," said I, shaking my head, "no one can help me. It is my ownfault, and I must redeem it by myself. It was a little thing in thebeginning, only I did not face it. It grew into a trouble, still I didnot face it Now the trouble has grown into a disaster, and I must faceit."
She sat her horse in silence for a moment.
"I have known for a long while that there was some trouble upon you.But are you sure"--she turned her face frankly to me--"are you sure Icannot help? Because I am a woman, after all?" she said with awhimsical smile.
"Miss Curwen," said I, "if this was a case wherein any woman couldfitly help me, believe me, I would come to you first in all thisworld. But----" I hesitated, feeling it in truth very difficult to saywhat yet remained. But I had already said too much. I had said toomuch when I told her I had watched the light in her window, and theconsciousness of that compelled me to go on. "But the business is toosordid. I would have no woman meddle in it, least of all you. Thetrouble is the outcome of my own wilful folly, and my one prayer isthat I draw the consequence of it solely upon my head." I gathered upthe reins and prepared to ride away.
"Well," said she, in a voice that trembled ever so little, "we may atleast shake hands;" and she held out her hand to me. "And observe, Mr.Clavering," she continued with a smile, "I say _hands_," laying someemphasis upon the word.
I could not take it.
"I have not even the right," I said, "to touch you by the finger-tips.But," and I drew in a breath, "if ever I regain that right----"
"You will," she interrupted, her voice ringing, her face flushing, hereyes bright and sparkling. "I am sure of that. You will."
The confidence, however misplaced, was none the less very sweet to me,and I felt it lift my heart for a moment. But then--
"Even if that comes true," I replied, "there will still be a barrierwhich will prevent you and me from shaking hands, and that barrierwill be a prison-door."
She started at the word, as though with some comprehension; and sinceI had no heart to explain to her more concerning the pit into which Ihad fallen, I raised my hat and rode down the hill. It seemed to methat the prison-door was even then shutting between us in the openair. For these last days I had lost my hopes that in this rising weshould succeed. The chessboard was spread open, and the chessmenranged upon the board. We had no pawns, and only novices to direct thegame. There was General Wills in front of us, and General Carpenterbehind us; and, moreover, one question dinning in our ears, at everyvillage where we halted, at every town where we encamped, "Where isthe King?" With the King in the midst of us, who knows but what thecountry might have risen? But, alas! the King was not as yet even inScotland, and since he delayed, what wonder that our lukewarm friendsin England tarried too?
All this flashed through my mind as I rode down the hillside, and thereflection brought with it another thought I turned in my saddle. Icould just see Miss Curwen disappearing on the further side of thehill, and again I rode up to the top and descended with a shouttowards her.
"Should we fail," I cried hurriedly--"should the usurper hold hisown----"
"And you think he will, I know," she answered. "You told me so aminute ago, when you spoke of the prison-door."
Her words fairly took my breath away. I stared at her, dumbfoundered.Did she know my story, then?
"But if we fail, what then?" And her question brought me back to herown necessities.
"Why, there will be a great danger for you at Applegarth."
She turned to me very solemnly.
"If we fail," she said, "keep that word you pledged to me. I shalltreasure the pledge, knowing you will not break it, Guard my father!"
"But it is of you that I am thinking."
"Of me?" she said; "why, if needs be, I suppose I--I can shoot anothersheriff;" and with a plaintive little laugh she set the spur to herhorse.
I rode across the hill, and, once upon the flat, galloped after ourregiments. The expression of her confidence was as a renewal of myblood. It sang in my ears sweet, like a tune dimly remembered, andheard again across a waste of years. "I would fulfil that doubletrust," I cried with a leaping heart, and then in more humility fellto a prayer that so I might be permitted.
For it was a double trust I felt. It was not merely that I was pledgedto the safeguarding of her father, but it seemed to me that I was noless firmly pledged to bring about that other and more difficultresult. I must regain the right to hold her hand in mine, even thoughI might win no advantage from the right.