CHAPTER XVI

  WITHOUT THE WALLS OF CARISBROOKE

  I TOOK up my abode in a little cottage overlooking Wootton Creek inthe Isle of Wight, hard by the village of Wootton. It was a peacefulspot, where the tide of war had not swept, though near enough, 'tistrue, to see the scenes of many a stern conflict in former days.

  On either side of the creek, well-wooded hills sloped down to thewater's edge when the tide was up, or to the fringe of the mudflatswhen 'twas low water. Just within shelter of the land the creek wasof sufficient depth to float a few fishing boats, whence a narrow,winding channel led to the blue waters of the Solent.

  My life, or rather existence, at Wootton was of a particularly quietnature. I lived at peace with my neighbours, and though at first theywere certainly inquisitive to the extreme, after a while they foundthat nothing could be obtained of my former life, and in consequenceI was little troubled in that respect.

  I thought it advisable to adopt another name, and finally I selectedthat of Giles White, which seemed sufficiently common to avoidfurther inquiries of my antecedents.

  Of the events that were taking place in the kingdom at large I heardbut little for a time.

  Of Colonel Firestone and Ralph Granville I heard not a word. Whetherthey were alive or dead, and how they had fared after leavingChalton, remained a mystery as far as I was concerned, yet I had aconviction that ere long things would mend, and that I should onceagain see my old comrades.

  Then news began to come in apace. A fisherman brought the tidingsthat His Majesty had escaped from the power of the Independents, andhad sought refuge at Titchfield House, whence he had been escorted byColonel Hammond to the castle of Carisbrooke. To me, a loyalCavalier, the news was encouraging, for, though nominally a prisoner,the King was within a few miles of the place where I existed incomparative poverty and obscurity.

  One evening I was returning in a small boat from a day's fishing offthe mouth of the creek, and just as I was rowing past the little hardon the Fishbourne side, I saw three men standing under the trees. Fora while they watched me intently, then one of them called, "Ho,fisherman, can you put us across?"

  "Right willingly," I answered, inwardly smiling at their mistake,which was natural enough under the circumstances, and running theboat aground, I told them to jump in.

  "What sort of road lieth betwixt here and Newport?" inquired one, adark-featured man dressed in russet cloth, and armed with rapier andpistols.

  "Hilly, but not easily mistaken," I replied. "'Tis an hour and ahalf's good walk."

  Two of the men were sitting astern, and one in the bows. As we nearedthe opposite side of the creek I turned my head to see how the boatwas heading, and, to my surprise, the stranger who sat in the bowsgave me a resounding smack on the back.

  "Markham!" he cried. "By the powers! What are you doing here--and inthis garb?"

  In a moment I recalled the man's features 'twas Captain Dixon, thesame who was the transport officer at Dartmouth Castle. A few wordssufficed to explain my presence in the Isle of Wight then the captaininterrupted me by asking:

  "And you know the island well?"

  "As a fox knows its lair."

  "Then come with us if ye be a true Cavalier. In Brading Harbour liesthe _Happy Adventure_. I trove you remember her full well? Peste! Awretched mess we have made of things up to now, for we have beenhopelessly lost amid these winding lanes. Canst lead us toCarisbrooke ere midnight?"

  "With ease," I replied confidently.

  "Then do so, and a greater service to His Majesty you'll never againperform."

  By this time the boat had reached the opposite shore, and tying itsafely to an iron ring, I set off briskly for the hill, the threecavaliers panting at my heels. Seeing that they were armed, I leftthem for a time to get my sword from the cottage, then once more weresumed our journey.

  Naturally, I was curious to know the nature of our midnight errand,and the three officers (for they were all of Sir Henry Cary'sregiment) were not loth to tell me.

  "With the blessing of Heaven we hope, ere dawn, to have his sacredMajesty safely aboard the _Happy Adventure_, and well on his way toFrance!" explained Captain Dixon. "All preparations are complete;swift horses are in readiness in Carisbrooke Village, whereFire--Fire----"

  "Firestone?" I asked eagerly.

  "Nay, but I cannot call the man's name to mind."

  "'Tis Firebrace, His Majesty's page," explained another, MajorHosken.

  "Ay, Firebrace. Well, where Firebrace has arranged to meet us."

  "His Majesty is a close prisoner?"

  "Close after a fashion, though not so unguarded as before poorCaptain Burley's blundering attempt at rescue. No good came of it,for His Majesty was detained within the walls, and Burley was hanged,drawn, and quartered for his pains. Heaven forfend that will not beour lot."

  "Burley had courage, but lacked caution, and his hotheadedness washis undoing. We, I take it, have laid our plans aright, usingdiscretion tempered with bravery. Therein lies the difference; thoughwe be willing to risk our lives in His Majesty's cause, we take goodcare to keep open every possible channel of escape."

  Talking of their possibilities of success, the three officers kept upthe hot pace I had set, and it was just before eleven as we descendedthe steep hill leading into Newport.

  The familiar streets of the old town were almost deserted, and,unchallenged, we passed along the High Street, and gained theoutskirts on the Carisbrooke side.

  In the village hard by the church, a man, his features muffled in adark cloak, was waiting under the shadow of a row of trees. Feigningto ignore him, we passed on; but bef ore we had gone a few steps hetapped thrice with a stick against the stump of a tree. Thereupon weretraced our footsteps, and the man introduced himself as the royalpage, Firebrace.

  Without further parley, for each man seemed thoroughly to understandhis work, we turned down N a side street, through which a brookbabbled, the rippling of the water sounding in the night air. Then webegan to climb the steep hill on which the castle stands.

  Neither lights nor any other signs of human beings were to be seen,and without misadventure we gained the base of the barbican. Here wetook shelter in the dry moat, concealing ourselves underneath thecentre of three low arches that carried the road from the outwork ofthe embattled gateway.

  Captain Dixon pulled out a gold watch, and holding it close to hisface, announced in a low tone that it was a quarter to twelve. Thenwe heard the tramp of the musketeers relieving guard, every sound ofthe instructions given to the sentry at the barbican being distinctlyaudible.

  "'Tis Captain Titus," whispered Firebrace, "and he is with us."

  This seemed to be the case, for we heard him tell the musketeer topay no attention to any sounds he might hear without the castle, andto this the man readily complied, he also being a party to theenterprise.

  "Now 'tis time," whispered the page; and walking swiftly along thebed of the dry moat, we at length came to a part of the castle wherethe walls were considerably lower than the rest. Here a stout ropewas dangling from the battlements.

  "Five minutes will decide whether we have set our heads in a rat trapor not," said Major Hosken. "Now, Dixon, you first--up you go."

  Seizing the rope with both hands, the captain swung himself lightlyup the sheer face of the wall, and instantly afterwards a shake ofthe hemp announced that he had reached the battlements in safety.Firebrace followed, and I ascended third, followed in turn by Hosken,while the remaining officer stayed without to facilitate our descent.

  I found myself on a narrow stone ledge, protected on its outer sideby a parapet breast-high, while the inner side was unfenced. A slipor a false step in the dark, and we should have fallen a depth ofthirty feet on the ground of the base-court.

  With the air of a man who knows his business, Firebrace led the wayalong the narrow pathway for about twenty paces. Here a flight ofstone steps afforded a descent to the ground, while but three yardsaway rose the outlines of a detached buildi
ng.

  "'Tis the Great Hall--His Majesty's apartments," whispered the page,as we gained the level of the basecourt. "Watch yonder window."

  We had not long to wait, for the hour of twelve was striking.Everything was perfectly still, and though a light gleamed through awindow in the gatehouse, there were no signs of any of the guards.

  Presently there came the sound of a casement being cautiously opened,and we could see a white face looking down between the bars of awindow on the first floor.

  Instantly we uncovered, then expectantly awaited His Majesty'sappearance. The end of a stout rope fell at our feet, and then thehead of our royal master emerged betwixt the bars of the window.

  For a brief space we waited in suspense. Then----

  "I am stuck fast!" exclaimed the King in a low voice.

  "Nay, sire," said the page. "Where Your Majesty's head passes through,your body will surely follow."

  "Nay, I repeat, I cannot move either forward or backward," said theKing, with a long-drawn groan, wrung from him by the result of hisexertions.

  Whilst he stuck I heard him groan again and again; yet we could notcome to help him, even though Dixon climbed the rope, and graspingthe bars with his hands, tried in vain to wrench them asunder--at therisk of his neck had the iron given way suddenly.

  In five minutes the attempt was at an end, for His Majesty, using thecord to force his way back into the room, succeeded in freeinghimself from the embraces of the iron bars. Then, having suffered thedevoted captain to kiss his hand, he retired; whereupon Dixon,muttering softly under his breath at our impotence, slid softly toearth.

  For a few moments more we waited beneath the window. Why we tarried Iknow not, unless we thought that some miracle would bring our royalmaster to our side.

  Then his room became illuminated, and bearing a candle in his hand(which he set in the window as a prearranged sign that he hadabandoned the attempt, though we knew to our cost that such was thecase already), the King stood before the window, the light shining onhis classic features.

  As if in final benediction, he raised his right hand in token offarewell, then, as we brought our swords to the salute, hedisappeared from view.

  'Twas fated to be the last glimpse I had of the face of the RoyalMartyr.

  I was recalled to the danger of my position by Dixon's hand beinglaid on my shoulder, and regaining the wall, we slid down the rope tothe moat, where we communicated the dismal news of our failure to ourcomrade.

  Then, descending the hill, we each selected a horse, and were soongalloping down the road to Newport.

  * * * * *

  Firebrace, the page, remained in the village, but I accompanied theofficers as far as the ford across the creek at Wootton.

  They wished me to retain the horse I was using, but, much against mywill, I was obliged to refuse, for the presence of the animal at mycottage would give rise to well-founded suspicions. Then, having setthem on the right road to Brading Harbour, I bade them farewell, andsick in mind and tired in body, I walked back to my humble dwelling.

  Yet I could not sleep, and after tossing restlessly on my bed tilldaylight streamed into the room, I dressed and went out. A strongeasterly wind had sprung up with the rising of the sun, and lookingin the direction of Spithead, I saw the drawing sails of a smallvessel bowling along on her westward course.

  It was the _Happy Adventure_.

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels