Roger Willoughby: A Story of the Times of Benbow

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  We must now return to Eversden. Months had passed by since Roger andStephen had sailed from Bristol, and no news had been received of them.At length one day Mr Battiscombe made his appearance, having riddenover from Langton Park, and desired to have a word with the Colonelalone. He looked graver and sadder than usual.

  "I bring you news," he said, "and I beg you to break it to my friendWilloughby. Our two sons, as you know, sailed in the _Dolphin_. Theowners write me word that so long a time has elapsed since they heard ofher without receiving tidings of her, that they are compelled to giveher up as lost. She had not been heard of at any of the ports up theMediterranean. It is within the pale of possibility that the lads mayhave escaped, yet surely we should have heard."

  "God's will be done," said Mr Willoughby when he heard the account. "Iwill not give up all hope of their return, though what has happened tothem it is indeed hard to guess; still there are chances by which theymay have effected their escape."

  Though he could not at all times hide his grief, yet he bore upremarkably well. The only person in the family who would not consent tobelieve that Roger and Stephen were lost was Alice Tufnell.

  "If it had been known that the _Dolphin_ had gone down, and there wasone survivor who could report that all the rest had perished, we mightthen believe that the ship had foundered," she said, talking to MadamPauline. "Who can tell but that the _Dolphin_ may have been driven onthe shore of some unknown island, whence the crew have been hithertounable to escape? I have read of many such adventures. The ocean isvery wide, and perhaps Roger and Stephen are even now living the livesof castaways, and engaged, may be, in building a vessel in which theywill some day return home. If I were a man I should like to fit out aship and go in search of them."

  "My dear, such undertakings appear very easy to the imagination, butpractically the matter is very different," answered Madam Pauline. "Itwould be like looking for a needle in a bundle of hay. Supposing thatthe two dear lads are still alive, you would not know in what directionto go. You might sail about the ocean for years and visit every knownand unknown island, and yet not find them. We must have patience andsimply trust in God's mercy to bring them back if He had thought fit tosave their lives."

  When, however, not only month after month, but year after year went by,and the young men did not make their appearance, even Alice began tolose hope of seeing them. She spoke of them less frequently thanformerly, though a shadow of sadness occasionally crossed her fair brow,but yet little had occurred to draw out the character of Alice Tufnell.She was determined and energetic, zealous in all she undertook; at thesame time she was gentle and affectionate to those who had befriendedher, with her sweet and loving disposition and sweet temper. Her voicewas sweet and musical, and Madam Pauline and the Colonel delighted inhearing her singing. She was now about seventeen, her figure ofmoderate height, well rounded and graceful, while her countenanceexhibited the serene and joyous spirit which dwelt within. Shefrequently accompanied the Colonel on a small pony, which had beenRoger's, on his walks about the country. Sometimes she attended MadamPauline, who, however, did not often extend her perambulations beyondthe grounds or the neighbouring village. Why it was she had scarcelybeen able to say, but, when not engaged, Alice frequently made her wayacross the Downs to the top of the cliff, sometimes descending to BenRullock's cottage, not that she often found the old man at home, as hewas generally out fishing, or gone away to Lyme, or some other place onthe coast, to do commissions for the villages. Sometimes she would sitin Roger's favourite nook, at others would pace up and down on thecliffs, gazing out over the ocean, now blue and calm, and sparkling inthe sunlight, now of a leaden hue, covered with foaming seas which cameroaring up on the beach with a thundering sound. Of course she morefrequently came when the wind was light and the water calm, and shecould sit and gaze at them with satisfaction.

  She had one day gone down to old Ben's cottage. Not finding him athome, she had strolled along the beach till she turned with her facetowards Lyme, when she observed a boat slowly rowing along the shore.That must be old Ben's, and he probably has Toby with him, and theyappear to have a passenger. It was curiosity perhaps which tempted herto linger for the arrival of the old man, to hear the news from Lyme, asit reached that place generally a day or two sooner than Eversden. Shewaited, now stooping to pick up a shell, now to mark with a stick shecarried in her hand how far the sea had risen on the beach. Looking upas the boat drew near, she observed that the passenger had risen; as hedid so he lifted his hat, but he again sat down as old Ben and Tobypulled rapidly in for the beach, up which they ran the bows of the boat.The stranger then stepping out advanced towards her, and once morebowed.

  "Miss Alice Tufnell?" he said in a tone of inquiry.

  "That is my name," she answered, looking at him with a somewhat doubtfulexpression. He was a young man, tallish and thin, with a complexionburnt to a dark brown, his countenance showing that he had undergonetoil, if not probably also sickness and suffering.

  "How do you know my name?" she asked.

  "What, Alice! what, Miss Tufnell! don't you remember StephenBattiscombe!" exclaimed the stranger.

  "Is it possible?" she exclaimed, putting out her hand and gazing at hisface. "I knew you were not lost; I always said so. And Roger, my dearbrother Roger, why has he not come with you? Where is he?" she asked inan anxious tone.

  "He is serving with the brave Captain Benbow. Though he longed to comeand see you all, yet he would not quit his ship till she arrives in theThames, and not then unless there is time to come down here and returnbefore the Captain again puts to sea. Roger is wedded to a sailor'slife, notwithstanding the dangers he has already run in following it;but he bade me give his best and truest love to you, Miss Alice, and hisfather and uncle and aunt."

  Mistress Alice lingered for some time on the beach, so interested inlistening to what Stephen was telling her, that she forgot he mightdesire to be proceeding homewards to relieve the anxiety of his ownfamily. At length, however, Stephen suggested that they should proceedtowards Eversden, when she led the way by the narrow path up the cliff.They then walked on, somewhat slowly it must be confessed, which was butnatural, that Stephen might have time to narrate some of his adventuressince the loss of the _Dolphin_. Madam Pauline was the first personthey met, and she uttered an exclamation of surprise as she saw MistressAlice approaching with a strange young gentleman, with whom she appearedon terms of intimacy.

  "Who do you think he is, aunt?" asked Alice.

  "Roger; no, he cannot be Roger; surely he must be Stephen Battiscombe!"

  "You are right in your conjecture, my dear Madam Pauline," said Stephen;and the little French lady, seizing both his hands and looking into hisface kindly, then hurried him off to see the Colonel and Mr Willoughby,to whom he had to narrate, as briefly as he could, his and Roger'sadventures, and give the messages which his friend had sent by him. MrWilloughby was anxious to see Roger before he again sailed, but hisdifficulty was to know where to find him.

  "I must write to Master Handscombe," he observed; "he will ascertainwhen the _Benbow_ frigate comes into port, and will easily convey amessage on board desiring him to come, and requesting the Captain togive him leave."

  After partaking of some refreshment served to him by the fair hands ofMistress Alice, Stephen set off to return home. Next morning he cameback to Eversden. He omitted in his hurry, he said, to pay old BenRullock for bringing him from Lyme. He invited Mistress Alice toaccompany him to the beach.

  "It is a path I have often trod alone of late," she answered, "and Iknow not why I should hesitate in accompanying you."

  As Madam Pauline did not forbid her, she accompanied Stephen. Theirconversation was probably interesting to themselves, but it need not berecorded. Stephen, of course, had a vast deal to tell her of hisadventures, which she had not hitherto heard. This made them linger onthe way, and sit down on the top of the cliffs, that they might conversemore
at their ease.

  Certain it was that Madam Pauline considered it her duty to chideMistress Alice for being away so long from home, although Stephen tookthe blame on himself by saying that he had to wait for some time to seeold Ben, who was out in his boat, but he promised to try and keep bettertime in future. Day after day, on some excuse or other, he returned toEversden. His father, he said, had written to his friend Mr Kempson atBristol, who would, he believed, restore him to his position in thecounting-house, while he hoped, from the encouragement he had beforereceived, that he should soon make a satisfactory income, which wouldenable him to set up house for himself. He did not venture to say whowould share his fortune with him, or to hint that Mistress Alice mightbe interested in the matter.

  All this time no news had been received of Roger. Mr Willoughby hadwritten to Mr Handscombe, who was still in London. He replied that the_Benbow_ frigate had not yet arrived, though she was long overdue, butthe merchants to whom her freight was consigned had received notice ofher having left Cadiz. Except from the account sent them throughStephen, they had not heard of her being in the channel. They spoke ofthe heavy gale which had occurred in the North Sea, and fears wereentertained that she might have met with some disaster. This made thefamily at Eversden very anxious. Mr Handscombe wrote other news,however, to Mr Willoughby. He spoke of the extreme unpopularity of theking, especially among the Dissenters. Notwithstanding his promise notto support the Popish system, and to allow the right of free worship toall his subjects, he had already introduced innovations. The man whohad governed Scotland with fire and sword, and murdered through hisagents numberless persons for adhering to their religious principles,was, it was said, likely to commence a similar system of terrorism inEngland. Large numbers of Londoners, ever opposed to tyranny, wereready to revolt as soon as a leader should come forward. That leaderhad already been found, and only waited for an opportunity to carry outthe proposed project, and to dethrone the Popish king. It was hopedthat numbers in all parts of the country, especially in the westerncounties, would follow their example as soon as the signal was given,and the man to whom all looked as their leader had made his appearanceon the scene. Mr Handscombe mentioned no names, he only spoke ofreports, nor did he say whence the expected chief was likely to come;but Mr Willoughby was fully convinced that rebellion on a large scalewas in prospect. He did mention the contents of this part of his letterto his brother-in-law. He felt sure that the Colonel would take no partin any proceeding of the sort, and might, from his loyal principles,feel himself called upon to support King James by sending notice of anyinformation he might obtain, if not by taking more active measures. MrWilloughby, however, rode over the next day to Langton Hall, and had along consultation with Mr Battiscombe, who would, he knew, cordiallysupport the cause calculated to overthrow the Papal system with whichthe country was threatened. They had a long and interesting discussion,at which his elder sons as well as Stephen were allowed to be present.

  Stephen had now to set off for Bristol, Mr Kempson having agreed toreceive him, but begged that he might pay one more visit to Eversden tobid his friends farewell. He rode over on a good horse that he mighthave a longer time to spend there. He found Mistress Alice about to setoff on her favourite walk to the cliffs. As Madam Pauline was engagedup-stairs, and the Colonel was out in the fields, he did not hesitate tooffer to accompany her, and she did not forbid him. They had justreached the Downs when they saw three vessels, one of large size and twoothers of smaller dimensions, standing in for the land. They watchedthem with much interest, Alice wondering what they could be, as ships oflarge burden seldom came near that part of the coast, Stephen observedthat he knew something about the matter. "His father had receivednotice that morning that the Duke of Argyll, with a large force, hadlanded in Scotland, that the Highlands were in revolt, and that the Dukeof Monmouth had sailed from the Texel. There can be little doubt," headded, "therefore, that the ships we see belong to him, although theyare fewer in number than I should have expected."

  "Then is there to be a rebellion in this part of the country?" askedAlice, in a tone of considerable anxiety. "Will the scenes I have readof in the time of Cromwell be again enacted?"

  "I fear it is the only way by which we can get our rights, my sweetAlice," answered Stephen. "I would that war could be averted, butbetter to have war than to be tyrannically treated, our religious andcivil rights trampled on as they have been for many years past; but, formy own part, I am ready to draw the sword in defence of our freedom."

  "But can our freedom thus be secured?" asked Alice. "All the blood shedin former years gained nothing, and in the end the king, who has justdied, was more securely seated on the throne than his father had been.You belong to a peaceable profession, and whatever is done, I entreatyou not to engage personally in warlike undertakings."

  "I thought, Mistress Alice, that you were a heroine, and would have beenready to gird on my sword and bid me go forth and fight in a noblecause," said Stephen, in a half playful, half serious tone.

  "And so I would if I were convinced the cause was noble, right, andjust, with a prospect of success."

  "I promise you, Mistress Alice, not to draw sword unless in a righteouscause," said Stephen. "Will that satisfy you?"

  "If the cause is righteous; but who is to settle that?" said Alicegravely.

  While they were speaking the ships stood off the coast, the wind flowingnortherly, and soon again were lost to sight.

  "Perhaps after all that may not be the squadron which has been lookedfor," said Stephen. "Then you have uselessly been made anxious."

  "I trust it may be so," said Alice.

  And they continued their walk discoursing on subjects far moreinteresting to themselves than politics. Stephen spoke of his expectedcareer at Bristol, and hoped, he said, to pay occasional visits toLangton and the spot endeared to him more than his paternal home.Though neither wished to return, they remembered that Madam Pauline andthe Colonel might naturally complain were they long absent, and they atlength bent their steps homeward. As they approached the manor housethey were met by a loud shout; presently Roger came rushing out towardsthem. He greeted Alice as a sister, and shook Stephen warmly by thehand.

  "I have just arrived from London town," he exclaimed. "We only got intothe Thames a week ago. I scarcely expected to get leave, but MasterHandscombe pressed the point with the Captain, and undertook that Ishould return in ten days, so that my holiday will be a very short one,and I must make the most of it."

  Alice and Stephen expressed their delight at seeing him, and inquiredthe cause of his delay. He then described to them the gale in which thefrigate had lost her masts, and their strange encounter with the FrenchCaptain Bart. Stephen required very little pressing to stop for theevening meal, which was soon to be placed on the table. He mentioned toMr Willoughby that he and Alice had seen some strange vessels in theoffing. Mr Willoughby seemed deeply interested at the account, andbecame very thoughtful.

  "It agrees with the message which Roger brought me down from London, andwhich I would have you carry to your father, for he would intrustnothing to him in writing. The future man is on his way, and whetherour slavery is to continue or freedom is to be obtained depends on thepreparations made for his reception. If the gentlemen and yeomen of theWest rise to a man, success would be secured; pray say that I shall beglad to have some conversation with your father without loss of time."

  As the days were long, Stephen had broad daylight with which to return.Roger accompanied him, as the two young men had naturally much to talkabout. Stephen again spoke of the vessels they had seen off the coast.He was convinced that they portended something of importance, and heproposed to Roger to ride into Lyme the next morning to learn any newsthe people of that town might have obtained on the subject. Rogergladly consented to accompany him, remarking, however, that he did notfeel deeply interested in the matter. "Captain Benbow says that asailor should stick to his ship and look after his men, and not
troublehimself with affairs on shore, and I intend to follow his example."

  On getting back to Eversden, Roger had so much to talk about that hekept the family, who were eager to listen to him, up to a later hourthan usual. Notwithstanding, he was on foot at an early hour, andmounting his father's horse, he in a short time joined Stephen on theroad to Lyme. The road was somewhat circuitous, hilly, and rough, sothat it took them nearly two hours to reach the high ground above thetown, whereupon they gazed across it over the blue sea. Stephenexclaimed, "Why, those must be the very three ships I saw yesterdayevening; then I was not wrong in my conjecture, they must be the ships;they have, probably, troops and stores on board, and perhaps the Duke iswith them. Let us ride on and ascertain."

  Riding down into the valley, on the sides and at the bottom of which thetown is built, the houses in outskirts being scattered somewhatirregularly about, they proceeded to the "George Inn," where they put uptheir horses, and to their surprise they found that no one was at allcertain as to the object of the vessels in the offing; they were said tobe Dutch, but they showed no colours. It was supposed that they wereabout to proceed along the coast; still there was some excitement. Aboat had been seen to land at Seaton, some way to the east, and had putsome persons on shore; who they were, and where they had gone, no oneknew. Unable to gain any definite information in the town, Roger andStephen walked down towards the Cob, where they saw a boat pulling outtowards the ships.

  "If we had been a little sooner we should have been able to go in herand ascertain what those vessels really are," observed Stephen.

  "We shall know soon enough when the boat returns," observed Roger.

  But the morning went by, and still the boat did not come back to theshore. This seemed to have created some suspicions in the minds of theauthorities. They then proceeded to the Church Cliffs, to the west ofthe town, from which lovely spot, as they walked up and down, they couldobserve the vessels. Here they found a number of persons, who alloffered various surmises as to the character of the strangers. Amongthe persons present were the Mayor and other authorities of the town.The former suggested that a gun should be fired to recall the boat,when, it was thought, if she had been retained for any particularreason, a friendly signal would be made.

  "An excellent idea, Mr Mayor," answered another member of theCorporation. "But to confess the truth, we have not a grain of powderto fire a musket; we must wait patiently till the boat comes back."

  The day passed by, till towards evening the post arrived. On this theMayor and several of the Corporation hurried to the post-house. Thepost had brought a weekly _News-Letter_, in which it was stated thatthree ships had lately sailed from a port in Holland, and were supposedby the English ambassador to be bound either for England or Scotland,and that the Duke of Monmouth was aboard.

  "What if those three ships out there are those spoken of!" exclaimed theMayor. "We shall have an invasion, rebellion, and much fighting inthese parts. My friends, we must call out the borough militia, we mustoppose the landing, we must turn the tide of war from our own town tosome other part of the coast."

  This speech was highly applauded by the loyal part of the inhabitants.The drum was immediately beat to summon the lieges to defend the town.A very few answered to the call; instead of doing so, their Captainmounted his horse, and galloped off to carry the information to London.The Mayor, finding that he had gone, with several other members of theCorporation quietly slipped out of the town, and in a short time thewhole place was in a state of confusion. No one had been able to saywhat was about to take place. Seven boats were now seen approaching thebeach west of the Cob. Roger and Stephen went down to meet them.

  "Come," said Stephen, "let us go down and meet them. We shall soon knowall about the matter."

  "But, surely, you will not join them whether the Duke is there or not,till you understand what are their intentions," said Roger.

  "If the Duke comes, as I believe he will, to oppose the Papists andestablish civil and religious liberty, I am bound to aid him with mylife's blood," answered Stephen, enthusiastically.

  In a short time the boats got near the beach, and from the largest atall graceful man of handsome countenance, dressed in purple, with astar on his breast and a sword by his side, stepped on shore, when abouteighty-three other persons, many of them by their dress being gentlemen,landed at the same time. As soon as all were on shore, the Duke, in aloud voice, his countenance beaming with satisfaction, exclaimed,"Silence, my friends. Let us now return thanks to God for havingpreserved us from the dangers of the sea, and especially from the shipswhich would have prevented our progress." Kneeling down on the sand,all the rest imitating his example, he lifted up his voice in a prayerof thanksgiving, though some of those who might have joined him weresilent. The Duke then rising, with a cheerful countenance, drew hissword, and, ordering his men to fall into their ranks, advanced towardsthe town. Numbers now rushed forward to welcome him and kiss his hand,so that it was with difficulty at times that he could make his way.Among the most eager was Stephen, who, in spite of what Roger had said,hurried up to the Duke and offered his services. The townsmen now cameup shouting, "A Monmouth! A Monmouth! Protestant religion." Amid aconsiderable concourse the Duke made his way to the Church Cliff, wherehis blue standard with the motto, "Pro religione et libertate." Thisdone, some temporary tables were formed, at which several writers tooktheir seats with books before them, ready to enter the names of thosewho were willing to enlist under his standard. The volunteers flockedin rapidly, and the number of the force was soon increased by sixtystout young men, for whom arms were provided, chiefly from those storedin the Town-Hall for the use of the militia. The two principal leadersnext to the Duke were Lord Grey of Wark, who had landed with a musket onhis shoulder, a pair of pistols in his girdle, and, far more importantto the cause, a Scotch gentleman, a soldier of experience, Fletcher ofSalton, who, taking command of the men, at once ordered some to takepossession of the forts, others to guard the avenues, and the remainderto get the arms and ammunition from on board ship, including fourfield-pieces--the only heavy guns brought with them.

  Roger had stood aloof, for he very well knew that were he to join, itwould be, in the first place, in direct opposition to his uncle'swishes, and besides he had also engaged to serve with Captain Benbow onboard a Royal ship, to which he expected shortly to be appointed. Hewas anxious, therefore, to return home as soon as possible, but he wasunwilling to go without first ascertaining whether Stephen had made uphis mind to remain with the Duke. He had some little difficulty infinding him among the crowd flocking round the standard, but at lengthhe got up to him and took him by the arm.

  "I am loth to leave you," he said, "but go I must. Tell me, will youreturn to Langton and consult your father before joining the Duke? andif so, we should be on the road, for the day is waning, and little morecan be done this evening."

  "I would rather ask you, Roger, if you have made up your mind not tojoin the noble cause. I tell you that I have resolved to throw in mylot with the Duke. You know not what I sacrifice by so doing, shouldsuccess fail to attend our enterprise; but it must succeed, and ere manydays are over, the Duke will be at the head of an army sufficient todrive James of York from his usurped throne."

  "I tell you I am sorry that you have so decided," answered Roger. "Am Ithen to bear any message to your father except to say that you will notreturn home?"

  "Yes, tell him that I have joined the Duke; and I am well assured thatmy brothers will, as soon as they hear of his landing, hasten to hisstandard."

  "Have you any other message?" asked Roger.

  "Yes, one which I know I can confide to you," answered Stephen in a lowvoice, not free from agitation; "it is to Alice. Tell her that I know Iam acting contrary to her advice, and it grieves me deeply to do so, asit may appear that I am regardless of her wishes, but that I considereverything must be sacrificed to the cause of duty, and that no moresacred cause exists than the one in which I am enga
ged."

  "I will carry out your wishes," said Roger with a sigh. "It seems to meas if we two had changed places; you used once to act the part of myMentor, now I am urging my advice on you, though, alack! you appear butlittle inclined to follow."

  "It is impossible, Roger, for I have already signed my name as one ofthe Duke's adherents, and I cannot desert him."

  Roger, all his expostulations useless, wishing his friend farewell,hurried back to the inn, where he was just in time to prevent his horsefrom being taken possession of by some of the Duke's zealous adherents,who were eager at once to form a body of cavalry.

  "Quick, young gentleman, and mount," whispered the landlord; "they havealready secured all the steeds they could find at the `Pig and Whistle,'and will be here anon."

  Roger threw himself into the saddle. As he galloped off he heard shoutscalling him back, but using whip and spur he was soon out of the town,nor did he pull rein till he was beyond reach of any pursuers. At thefirst hamlet through which he passed, several of the people seeing himriding fast, inquired if anything unusual had happened. Withoutconsidering that his prudent course would have been to keep silence, hereplied, "Yes, the Duke of Monmouth landed this evening at Lyme, and Isaw his standard set up in the market-place; what he is going to do,however, is more than I can say."

  "Hurrah! At last he has come to free us from our Popish tyrants andtaxes," cried one of the villagers; and another raised the shout of "AMonmouth! A Monmouth! We will go to him and fight for him if he wantsus."

  Roger rode on, and at the next village gave the same information with alike result. No sooner had he told the people that the Duke had landed,than nearly all were eager to join him. Roger had promised Stephen toride straight for Langton Hall to inform Mr Battiscombe of what hadoccurred. He was delayed here and there by having to answer numerousinterrogations, and at length he reached the Hall, by which time it wasnearly dark. He told a servant to hold his horse while he went into thehall where the family were assembled at supper.

  "What brings you here, Master Roger, and what has become of Stephen?"asked Mr Battiscombe.

  "He has joined the standard of the Duke of Monmouth, who landed thisafternoon, and he bade me ride on and tell you, being assured that youwould approve of his proceeding."

  "Would that I could join him myself!" exclaimed Mr Battiscombe.

  "But I can, and I can," cried out two of his other sons, rising fromtheir chairs as they spoke. "We will join him this very night; and youwill return with us, Roger, of course."

  "I am bound homewards," answered Roger. "I could not take such a stepwithout consulting my uncle and father."

  "For so glorious a cause we ought not to hesitate for a moment,"exclaimed one of the young Battiscombes; "but if you will not go with uswe must set out without you."

  "Better wait till to-morrow morning," said Mr Battiscombe. "Employthis evening in preparing your arms, and collecting such articles as youmay require."

  After Roger's sturdy refusal to join the Duke, the young Battiscombestreated him with unusual coldness, barely indeed with civility; he,therefore, wishing them good-evening, mounted his horse and made his waytowards the manor-house.

  "Have you heard anything more about the ships Alice saw last night?"asked his father.

  "Yes," answered Roger, and he described who had landed from them."Stephen has joined the Duke, and wanted me much to do the same, but Ideclined till I had consulted you."

  "You acted wisely, Roger," said his uncle. "It may be that he will gainthe day, it may be that he will lose it; but certain it is that he whobrings civil war into a land brings a heavy curse."

  "And has Stephen actually joined the Duke of Monmouth?" exclaimed Alice,turning pale. "I urged him not to join so desperate a cause as thatwhich the Duke's must be when he comes to oppose constituted authority."

  "But he does not consider it desperate," said Roger, "but a right noblecause; and judging by the enthusiasm exhibited by the people, if theDuke has brought arms to put into their hands, and officers to drillthem, he may speedily have a large army under his command."

  "That remains to be seen," observed the Colonel. "I had hoped not towitness another civil war in our country."

  Mr Willoughby had all the time kept silence. Although, perhaps,thankful that his son had not joined Monmouth's standard, he rejoicedthat the Duke had safely landed and that the people showed enthusiasm inhis cause. His belief was that the whole of the west of England wouldquickly be up in arms, that the army of James would melt away, and thata bloodless victory would be obtained over the tyrant. He made a remarkto that effect to the Colonel.

  "I wish no ill to the Duke of Monmouth," he answered. "If he succeedshe will be called the deliverer of our country, if he fails he will bebranded as a traitor. It all depends on the prudence with which heacts, no less than on the purity of his views. If his cause is sointrinsically just, he is likely to obtain general support. If not,should he fail, he will be guilty of the ruin and destruction of thosewho engage with him. Undoubtedly the Duke, like you and others,believes that the whole of the west country, including the noblemen andgentlemen, will rise in his favour, that a rising will take place inLondon, that the Duke of Argyll will be successful in Scotland, and thatthe rebellion will be organised in Ireland; but all this remains to beproved, and it appears to me that the Duke, before he ventured onEnglish ground, should have thoroughly assured himself that these eventswould occur."

  Such were the opinions of a large number of the upper classes who werenot unfavourable to the Duke, but were unwilling to hazard their livesand fortunes by taking an active part in an enterprise which had beencommenced, as they considered, without due and sufficient preparation.The older men had witnessed and the younger ones had heard too much ofthe horrors of civil war to desire again to see it commence, unless theycould be satisfied that the cause they advocated would be speedily andentirely triumphant. The large majority of Protestants would gladlyhave seen the Popish king driven from the throne, but even that eventmight be purchased at too high a price, and thus they thought it prudentto remain neutral in the coming struggle.

  Before retiring to bed the Colonel summoned Roger to speak to him inprivate. Having commended him for the prudence with which he had acted,he added, "Now, my lad, I wish you to give me your word of honour thatyou will not be tempted by any persuasions to join the Duke. I know theenthusiastic spirit which animates your friend Stephen, who fullybelieves that he is engaged in a righteous cause, regardless of all theconsequences of failure. He acts with the approval of his father,therefore I do not blame him; but I think it probable that he willendeavour to win you and others over, and I therefore wish to prepareyou to resist all his arguments and solicitations."

  Roger was somewhat surprised at this address, for he fancied thatStephen, whatever he might say, was not at all likely to win him over.He, however, readily gave his word to his uncle.

  "I can now with much more satisfaction enjoy your society during yourbrief stay with us," said the Colonel, "and feel confident that you willmake the best of your way back to London to join your ship when yourleave is up."

  The next day Mr Battiscombe came over from Langton Hall to call on theColonel and Mr Willoughby. The object of his visit was very evident.He at once entered into the subject of the Duke of Monmouth'senterprise, and used every argument he could think of to induce hisfriends to support it.

  He had given his sons, he said, to the cause, though his age andinfirmities must prevent him from joining it personally, but he purposedsetting to work to enlist men who would soon raise a body of cavalry, ofwhich he hoped Colonel Tregellen would take command.

  "I will do nothing of the sort, my friend," answered the Colonel,laughing. "My fighting days are over, and even if I thought better ofthe Duke's cause than I do, I would not risk the safety of thosedependent on me by engaging in it. As a friend, I would advise you toreturn home and remain quietly there; you have given your sons to thecause, and I pray that
they may be preserved from the dangers to whichthey must inevitably be exposed."

  Madam Pauline and Alice were present; the former was greatly relievedwhen she heard the Colonel say this. Poor Alice looked pale andanxious. She was more ready than ever to forgive Stephen for havingacted contrary to her advice, when she heard that he had done so inobedience to his father's wishes; still she dreaded the dangers to whichhe would be exposed,--dangers which the Colonel's remarks had conjuredup in her imagination. Roger's stay was to be a very short one, he hadspent so much time on his journey down; and as he would probably belonger returning, it was settled that he was to start on the followingMonday. The family on Saturday night had retired to rest, but Roger, avery unusual thing for him, could not sleep. He had thrown open thewindow, which looked northward; before it, at some distance, ran theroad between Lyme and Bridport. Presently he heard the tramp of feetand the murmur of voices. As he watched a part of the road which couldbe seen between the trees, he observed it filled with armed men marchingeastward. There appeared to him to be a large number on foot pressingforward, then there came a body of horsemen. At length they all passedby. He was doubtful whether he should tell his uncle, but what would bethe use, he thought, if they are Monmouth's men?--he would not jointhem. Or is it likely that the Duke could so soon have got an armytogether? If they are the king's, he might be called upon to give hisassistance. He was very much inclined to let himself out of the houseto go and ascertain what they were about. He resisted the temptation,however. Should he be discovered, his uncle, he felt, might supposethat he was breaking his word. Drowsiness stealing over him, he lefthis window open and turned into bed. He rose rather later than usual,and on going down to breakfast mentioned what he had heard during thenight; but no one had been disturbed, and his father declared that hemust have been dreaming. Roger asserted that he had both seen and hearda large body of men passing. The Colonel was somewhat unwell, and MrWilloughby never left the house at an early hour, so Roger volunteeredto go out and ascertain if anything unusual had taken place. He hadjust got to the edge of the plantations which bordered the high-road,when he heard the tramp of horses, and looking along it, saw a largebody of mounted men trotting along at a fast rate coming from thedirection of Bridport. Not wishing to encounter them, he crouched downamong the underwood. At their head rode one of the officers who hadlanded with the Duke, who he heard was Lord Grey. His followers seemedto be in a desperate hurry, some pushing on before the others, as theoxen in a large drove are apt to do when the dogs are barking at theirheels. They looked neither to the right hand nor to the left. The roadwas somewhat narrow, only three or four could ride abreast; thus theywere some time in passing. Roger fancied they had all gone by, when,looking up, he observed a smaller party riding in better order. In thelast among them, and apparently acting as an officer, he recognisedStephen Battiscombe, who kept continually turning round as if heexpected some one to be following. Roger was much inclined to shout outand ask what had occurred, but he restrained himself, for he thought itpossible that some of the men might look upon him as an enemy or a spy,and make him a prisoner. The appearance of Stephen had left no doubtthat the party belonged to the Duke, and that they had been engaged insome expedition which had apparently not been successful. He now wenton to the village, expecting there to obtain some certain information.Except the landlord of the little inn, who was too burly andshort-winded to move, not a man did he find in the place.

  "They are all gone, Master Roger," said Joe Tippler; "marched away toLyme to join the Duke of Monmouth. The Duke, they say, will soon have amighty army, and go and take London town."

  Several women to whom he spoke could give him no further information; noone appeared to have heard the force passing during the night. Beingunable to gain any further information, he was about to return home,when, on looking along the road, he saw towards the east another body ofmen on foot. It struck him that they might be the advanced guard of theking's forces, and that it would be prudent to keep out of their way.He hurried back, therefore, to the plantation in which he had beforeconcealed himself. As they came up they appeared to be marching intolerable order, and he soon saw by their flags that they were the Dukeof Monmouth's men. They had among them several horses and a number ofpersons, who were evidently prisoners by the way they were guarded.Here and there some of the men appeared to have been wounded. Thenthere must have been fighting, and Monmouth's party after all have beenvictorious, thought Roger. He now returned home to make his report. Hehad done nothing heroic, but he had acted with prudence in keeping outof the way. The Colonel, with Madam Pauline and Alice, was preparing togo to church when he arrived, and by his uncle's desire he accompaniedthem. When they reached the church-door, however, except Master Holdenand the clerk, with half a dozen poor women, no one was there.Notwithstanding, Master Holden performed the service, but it was evidentthat he was puzzled what to preach about, as it would have been uselessto such a congregation to warn them against rebellion, as had probablybeen his intention. He therefore dismissed them without his usualaddress, observing that at any moment bodies of armed men might bevisiting their peaceful village, and that they would be safer in theirown houses than abroad. From Roger's account the Colonel had no doubtthat Bridport had been attacked, that the cavalry having been roughlyhandled had retreated, neither horses nor men being accustomed to standfire, while the infantry perhaps had held their own, having driven backtheir enemies, and had retired in good order. Roger wanted to go outagain after dinner to obtain some more news, but the Colonel forbade himto leave the grounds, as it was likely that the king's forces wouldadvance upon Lyme, if they were in sufficient number, and he mightuselessly get involved in a skirmish. The remainder of the day,however, passed quietly. The next morning Roger was to start on hisjourney. He rose at an early hour; the whole family were up to see himoff. It had been arranged that John Platt was to accompany him for thefirst twenty miles on the road towards London. He had a stout cob,which his uncle had given him to be sold in London for his benefit.

  "Your father's friend Mr Handscombe will certainly find a purchaser,"observed the Colonel. "Now, farewell, my lad, it may be months, it maybe years, before you come back; you know not to what part of the worldyou may be sent. You have acted wisely; continue to do so, and shouldyour life be preserved you will rise in your profession."

  Roger's other farewells were made, and he mounted his horse. He carrieda brace of pistols in his holsters, a sword by his side, and a valisestrapped on behind the saddle. John Platt rode with an arquebusshanging at his back, a good pistol in one holster, and a broadswordwhich had done duty in the Civil War. The Colonel ordered them to pushforward as fast as possible towards London, that they might get clear ofthe excitement caused by the Duke's landing, and have less chance ofbeing interrupted. John Platt promised to carry out his master'sinstructions.

  "They shall pay dear, whether king's men or rebels, if they attempt tostop us," he said, as he clutched his big sword, which in his youngerdays he had used with powerful effect as a trooper under the Colonel,though at present it seemed doubtful whether his arm had still strengthenough to wield it. The Colonel gave them his parting charges as theyrode out of the court-yard and pushed forward, as they had beendirected, towards Salisbury by by-paths with which John Platt was wellacquainted. Here and there they met peasants hurrying towards Lyme, whoeagerly inquired news of the Duke. Some asked if a battle had alreadybeen fought; others said that they understood the Duke had landed withan army of ten thousand men, which by this time had increased to twentythousand.

  "He landed with not ten thousand or not ten hundred either," answeredJohn dryly. "He may have a thousand or two about him by this time. Ifyou take my advice you will go back home and not risk your necks byjoining him."

  The advice, however, was seldom if ever followed, the men looking uponhonest John as a malignant. As they advanced they met bodies of militiamarching westward under Tory country gentlemen, who
considered it theirduty to side with the king though they had no personal affection forhim. Roger on each occasion had to give an account of himself, and hefound some difficulty in persuading some of these zealous Royalists thathis intentions were honest. He was allowed, however, to go on, till atlength the time came for his separating from John Platt. They warmlyshook hands, as Roger did not consider it derogatory.

  "Circumspect Master Roger," said the old man, "do not let strangers getinto your confidence; give them the cold shoulder rather; ride straighton; when you arrive at an inn, see to your horse yourself that he getsproperly fed; if a stranger enters into conversation, listen to what hemay have to say, but give him as little information as you can inreturn."

  Roger promised to follow the old soldier's advice, and found it greatlyto his advantage. His horse held out well, and by judicious managementhe contrived to get to London in five days after leaving Eversden. Onentering London he found the city perfectly quiet, not the slightestsign, as far as he could discover, of a proposed outbreak, the factbeing that the king had arrested all suspicious persons of influence.He inquired his way to the house of Mr Handscombe, who lived not farfrom the Thames. The cloth-merchant was at home, and received himkindly. He was looking somewhat pale and anxious, and made manyinquiries as to what was going forward in the south. Roger gave him allthe information he possessed, but Mr Handscombe made but few remarks inreturn.

  "Now, my lad," he said in a kind tone, "the sooner you get on board yourship the better for you. Captain Benbow is expecting you, and Ipromised to send you down as soon as you arrived, for I may not remainhere long. Before you go you must take some refreshment, and I in themeantime will order a boat to be in waiting."

  "Where snail I find the _Benbow_ frigate?" asked Roger.

  "She is not the ship you are to join," answered Mr Handscombe. "HerCaptain has parted with her, and is now in command of a fine king'sship, the _Ruby_, of fifty guns, lying at Deptford."

  Mr Handscombe was absent while Roger was taking the food provided forhim; he appeared, on his return, in a travelling dress.

  "I have made arrangements for the sale of your horse as your fatherrequests me; here is the amount which the animal will probably fetch,put it in your pocket and do not throw it away; and now come along."

  "What, are you going with me, sir?" asked Roger.

  "Yes, in the character of your father, going to see you on board yourship. Circumstances make it convenient to be away from London just atpresent, and the idea has struck me that I could not have a betteropportunity. Your chest has been transferred to the _Ruby_, and you cancarry your valise while I carry mine."

  They hastened down to the boat and immediately stepped aboard, when theboatmen began to row lustily down the stream, the tide fortunatelyfavouring them. They safely shot under the arches of London Bridge, andwere now among vessels of various sizes and rigs, some moored to thebanks, others brought up in the stream. Though the day was long, it wasdusk before they reached the _Ruby_ Shaking Roger by the hand, MrHandscombe bade him answer the hail of the sentry, and then without lossof time stepped up the side with his valise.

  "Are you not coming, sir?" asked Roger. "No, my lad," was the answer;"I am going on board a merchant vessel which sails by the next tide.Fare thee well. I hope to meet you again some time when you returnhome; at present I know not exactly what is to be my destination."

  Roger, as desired, answered the sentry's hail, and was allowed to stepon board, when the boat glided away immediately, and was lost to sight.Captain Benbow, who was on board, received him cordially, and expressedhis satisfaction at seeing him return so punctually. Roger expected tobe questioned as to what was taking place in the west, but the Captainshowed very little interest in the matter. He merely observed, "TheDuke of Monmouth has landed, I understand. He did a foolish thing, butwill do a wiser if he gets out of the country as fast as he can. Now,Willoughby, there is plenty of work for us on board; we have tofresh-rig the ship and get the crew into good discipline. At presentexcept the men I brought from the _Benbow_ frigate, for one and allvolunteered to follow me, we have not many worth their salt."

  Roger was well pleased at being treated in a confidential way by hisCaptain; it showed that he was looked upon not only as a sailor, but asfit to become an officer. Except one lieutenant, the master, andboatswain, the other officers, strange as it may seem, had not beenregularly bred to the sea.

  "We must get another tarpaulin or two if the ship is ever to be broughtinto order," observed Benbow; "these young gentlemen from the shore arevery well in their way, but they are more ornamental than useful."

  As soon as Roger had parted from the Captain, on going round the ship heencountered old Sam Stokes.

  "Glad to see you aboard our new ship, Mr Willoughby, though somewhatbigger than our old craft, but doubt whether she has as fast a pair ofheels; however, if there comes a war we shall do something in her, nodoubt about that, with such a Captain as ours."

  Jumbo, on hearing that Roger had come on board, hurried up, and Rogerhad a talk with him of old times, and then went round among his oldshipmates and spoke to each individually, thus winning their kindlyfeelings. He often wished that Stephen had been with him instead ofhaving joined the hazardous enterprise in which he had engaged. Hewrote twice to his friend. Not knowing where he might be, he addressedthe letters to Langton Park, but he received no replies.

  At length the ship was ready for sea, and, dropping down the Thames,stood out in the channel for a cruise.