Boscobel: or, the royal oak

Left by herself, Mrs. Whitgreave's strength almost forsook her. On regaining her own chamber, she knelt down before a crucifix, placed in a small recess, and again offered up prayers for the king's deliverance from his enemies.

Meanwhile, Charles had proceeded to Allport's Leasow, where he found his faithful adherents waiting for him, and saluted them most cordially.

"I did not expect you quite so soon, Colonel Lane," he said. "But you have arrived in the very nick of time. Without you and Careless we might have had some trouble with those rascally troopers."

"I am only sorry they escaped us," replied Colonel Lane.

"Here is the horse we have taken, my liege," said Careless, who had dismounted, and was holding both steeds by the bridle. "Will you mount him? 'Twill be a good jest to say that I have taken the rogue's horse."

"Oddsfish! the horse is well enough," cried Charles, as he vaulted into the saddle. "These Roundhead knaves have robbed all the best stables."

The party being now ready to set forth, Mr. Whitgreave approached the king, and asked if his majesty had any further commands for him.

"My last injunctions to you are, Mr. Whitgreave, that you come to me at Whitehall, and bring Father Huddlestone with you. I defer all expression of my thanks till I see you both there. May the good time arrive speedily!"

After receiving the good priest's valedictory benediction, he rode out of the close with his attendants.

At first, the party proceeded at a foot's pace, and they had not gone far, when the king halted for a moment to gaze at the old mansion, which was seen to the greatest advantage on that bright moonlight night. It looked so hushed in repose that no one would have dreamed that its quietude could have been recently disturbed.

But Charles was not allowed to indulge his meditations long. Colonel Lane was impatient to be gone, and after another look at the picturesque old mansion, the king was obliged to bid farewell to Moseley Hall.

CHAPTER II.

HOW THE KING ARRIVED AT BENTLEY HOUSE

The night was so enchanting, that although the king was not without apprehensions of a chance encounter with the enemy, he greatly enjoyed his ride. Moreover, he was very well pleased with the trooper's horse on which he was mounted.

Colonel Lane acted as leader of the party, and took them across a common, now known as Cooke's Gorse, past Essington Mill, and then over another common to Allen's Rough. More heath still lay before them, and having traversed a very wild district, they reached an extensive coppice, which formed part of Colonel Lane's own estate. During the whole ride, they had scarcely seen a habitation, and had not encountered a single individual. Deeming the danger over, Colonel Lane slackened his pace, and began to converse with the king, telling his majesty that he thought his horse had gone remarkably well.

"I think so too, colonel," replied Charles. "What is more, I am of opinion that this is not the first time I have ridden him."

"Indeed, sire!" exclaimed Colonel Lane, in surprise.

"Unless I am greatly mistaken, this is the very horse I rode from Worcester to White Ladies. I know his action. How say you, Careless?"

"It certainly did not occur to me before, my liege," replied Careless. "But now I look at the horse more closely I believe your majesty is right."

"You will be able to settle the question, Colonel Lane," observed Charles. "I gave the Worcester horse to you at White Ladies. What became of him afterwards?"

"I lost him in the fight near Newport, where Lord Derby was worsted by Lilburn and Colonel James. Possibly he may have fallen into the hands of one of the troopers."

"It must be so," exclaimed Charles. "Oddsfish! 'tis a strange circumstance. Now that I have got the horse again, I will not part with him if I can help it."

"Doubtless, he is well worth keeping," observed Careless; "but he may be recognised by the rascally trooper, and the discovery would endanger your majesty."

"The risk is so slight that I shall not heed it," said Charles.

Passing through the coppice they soon afterwards entered a park, in the midst of which stood Bentley House.

This fine old mansion has been since pulled down, and replaced by a modern structure, which, though handsome and commodious, does not of course possess the historic interest of the earlier building. With its ornamented gables, projections, and large windows, Bentley House presented a very imposing front, but it was at the back that the party arrived, and as they rode into the court-yard, a faithful groom, who was waiting for his master's return, came forth from the stables with a lantern and took charge of the horses. Whatever he thought, this trusty fellow manifested no surprise that the colonel and Careless should have a common woodman in their company.

"My man, Lutwyche, thinks you are a fugitive Cavalier, sire," remarked Colonel Lane. "He is thoroughly honest and loyal, but I do not mean to trust him with the great secret. Thank Heaven I have brought your majesty here in safety, and I trust no harm will befal you while you are my guest. You may sleep soundly, for I shall remain on guard during the remainder of the night. It distresses me that I am obliged to offer you such poor accommodation, but if a larger room were assigned you suspicion would be excited. At any rate, you will be more comfortably lodged than in the secret closet at Boscobel House."

"Pray make no apologies, colonel," said Charles. "The size of the room is a matter of perfect indifference to me. Put me where you please."

Entering by the back door, they then proceeded to Colonel Lane's study, where they found Lord Wilmot, who was delighted to see the king, and congratulated him on his safe arrival. Being much fatigued, Charles begged to be conducted to his room without delay; whereupon Colonel Lane, with a thousand apologies, took him to a small chamber at the top of the house. Small as it was, the couch appeared extremely comfortable to the wearied monarch, who sank into a deep, unbroken slumber, from which he was aroused by Careless. Fain would he have slept a few hours longer; but that was quite impossible, as Careless informed him.

"It appears to me," said Careless, seating himself at the king's bedside, "that your majesty does not exactly comprehend what you will have to do, and I think I had better explain matters to you. In the first place, Mistress Jane Lane sets out early this morning on the pretext of a visit to her relatives the Nortons, of Abbots Leigh, and you will attend her in the capacity of groom."

"But Abbots Leigh is near Bristol," said the king. "She cannot possibly get there to-day."

"She has no such intention," replied Careless. "She will proceed first to Packington Hall, where a halt will be made for an hour or so. Sir Clement Fisher has been apprised of the visit, and will be prepared for your majesty's reception."

"Good," said the king, "I shall be glad to see Sir Clement. But where am I to rest for the night?"

"At Long Marston, near Stratford-on-Avon, the residence of Mr. Tombs, who is a near relative of the Lanes and a staunch adherent of your majesty."

"Mr. Tombs is a true man – of that I am quite sure," rejoined Charles. "I shall be quite content to stay at his house."

"Your majesty, I think, understands that Mistress Jane Lane has got a pass for herself and her servant?"

"Yes. I am to be her groom. I quite understand it. Did you imagine I could have any disinclination for the part, after all I have gone through? I shall be delighted to act as groom to so charming a person as Jane Lane."

"Then I may as well state, without further preamble, that I have brought your majesty a costume suitable to the part you will have to enact – grey doublet and hose, as you will see. The garments were made for Colonel Lane's groom, Lutwyche – but I am sure they will fit you. Here are boots and a hat to complete the disguise. The arrangement appears to me extremely pleasant, and I should be very happy to take your majesty's place, if I were permitted."

"Are you to be left behind with Lord Wilmot?" asked the king.

"No, sire," replied Careless. "His lordship and myself will attend you – but at a respectful distance. You will be accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Petre. Mrs. Petre, I must inform your majesty, is Jane Lane's sister. It is proper you should know that neither Mrs. Petre nor her husband have the slightest idea that they will have the honour of attending upon your majesty."

The king then arose, and assisted by Careless, put on the suit of dark grey cloth provided for him. When he was fully equipped, he said to Careless:

"How think you, Will? Shall I pass muster? Do I look like a groom?"

"Your appearance is all that can be desired, my liege," replied Careless. "But you must take care not to betray yourself by any inadvertence. Come down to the stables with me, and I will get Lutwyche to give you some instructions in the part you will have to play."

"Oddsfish! I flatter myself I can groom a horse," cried Charles. "'Tis true I have not had much practice."

"You will be none the worse for a lesson, my liege," said Careless. "This woodman's garb must not be seen," he added, putting the disguise abandoned by Charles into a small valise, which he had brought with him. "I must needs ask your majesty to carry this portmanteau. And please to bear in mind, that you are now Will Jones, the son of one of Colonel Lane's tenants."

He then left the room, but had not taken many steps down the staircase, when he called out in a loud voice,

"Art thou coming, Will? Never was there so lazy a rascal."

"I am quite ready, your honour," replied Charles, following with the portmanteau.

CHAPTER III.

HOW WILL JONES FOUND A FRIEND IN THE STABLE

As they passed through the back part of the house on the way to the stables, they met two or three women-servants, who glanced inquisitively at the new groom, and thought him a good-looking young fellow. In the court-yard they found Colonel Lane and Lord Wilmot. The former was talking with his head falconer, Randal Gates, and telling him that he should require the hawks and spaniels after breakfast.

"I mean to give this gentleman, Mr. Harris," he said, glancing at Lord Wilmot, "a little sport. My sister is going to Long Marston, and we will ride with her as far as Packington Hall."

"The hawks and spaniels shall be ready for you, colonel, whenever you require them, and as there are plenty of partridges in the corn fields, I make no doubt you will be able to show Mr. Harris some good sport."

The falconer then retired, and Colonel Lane turned to bid Careless good morning – glancing significantly at the same time at the king, who stood respectfully aside with his cap in his hand.

"Maybe you don't know me, colonel," said Charles, with an awkward bow.

"Oh! yes, I know thee well enough, Will," replied Colonel Lane. "Thou art David Jones's son, and my sister's new groom. I hope thou wilt serve her well. Put down thy portmanteau and come with me to the stables."

Charles obeyed, and followed Colonel Lane and the others to the stables, which were very large, but there were not many horses in the stalls. Lutwyche came forward as his master entered with the others. He stared when he saw the king in his groom's attire, and a cunning smile lighted up his hard features.

"This is Will Jones, my sister's new groom, Lutwyche," said the colonel. "Explain to him what he will have to do."

"I should guess he has not had much experience, colonel," replied the old groom with a grin. "Mistress Jane, I understand, is going to Bristol, but she has not yet told me which horse she will ride. Her favourite steed has not been right since she returned from Worcester. She can't take him. The horse that came in last night is strong enough to carry double, and I think would do very well."

"Ay, he is a good horse," replied the colonel, in a doubtful tone. "But there are some objections to him."

"I don't see 'em," said the groom. "I wish your honour would just look at him. I fancy he did some hard work yesterday, but he seems quite fresh this morning."

The whole party then went to look at the horse, and he certainly seemed to deserve the groom's praises.

As Charles went into the stall and patted him, the horse turned round and whinnied gently, as if in recognition.

"He knows you, Will Jones," remarked Lutwyche.

"Ay, that's plain enough," replied the king. Then turning to Colonel Lane, he added, "Your honour seems to have some objections to this horse, or I would make bold to recommend him for the journey. Were I allowed the choice, I should prefer him to any other horse in the stable."

"Well, since you like him so much, Will, e'en take him," said the colonel. "My sister ought to have been consulted on the point, but I have no doubt she will be content."

"Here comes the fair lady herself," cried Lord Wilmot, as Jane entered the stable.

While saluting the rest of the party, she looked round for the king, and discovering him, greeted him with a smile.

Charles then came out of the stall, and making a rustic bow, inquired whether she had any commands for him.

"I am glad to find thou hast arrived safely, Will," she said. "But I have no special orders to give thee, except that thou must be ready to start soon after breakfast."

"I shall be ready at any moment you may require me," replied Charles.

"Will this horse suit you, Jane?" asked her brother.

"Perfectly," she replied. "I have been admiring him ever since I came into the stable. Since I cannot have my favourite steed, this will make an excellent substitute. Where did you procure him?"

"Never mind where I got him," replied her brother. "I rode him at Newport, and lost him there, but he has since been captured from a Roundhead trooper, who might recognise him."

After consulting the king by a glance, Jane said, "I will have that horse, and no other."

Colonel Lane shrugged his shoulders and went out of the stables, followed by the others.

As soon as they were gone, Lutwyche said to the king:

"I don't want to know who you are, but I am certain you are not a groom. Go into the house and breakfast comfortably. I will get all ready for the journey."

Charles thanked him heartily, and telling him he placed entire faith in him, quitted the stable, and proceeded to the house.

CHAPTER IV.

HOW WILL JONES BREAKFASTED WITH THE MEN-SERVANTS IN THE BUTTERY

Entering the buttery hatch, the king found the men-servants assembled at their morning meal. They were breakfasting very substantially on cold roast beef and ale. Concluding that he was the new groom, they asked him to join them, and Mr. March, the butler, who sat at the head of the table, and was treated with much respect by the others, carved him some slices of meat, and bade him fill his cup freely from the big brown jug before him.

"You will find the ale good in this house, young man, I'll warrant you," observed Mr. March, whose stout person showed that he drank plenty of it himself. "We brew no small beer here. You are lucky in getting the place, let me tell you – all the more lucky that our young lady never before had a groom to attend her."

"That's very true, Mr. March," said one of the men. "Mistress Jane would never ride on a pillion with old Lutwyche. This young man may therefore consider himself highly honoured."

"Will Jones I believe is your name," said the butler. "Well, then, Will, you look like an honest young man – a simple young man, I may say – but you may be a very great rogue for all that." Here there was a general laugh, in which Charles himself joined good humouredly. "Nay, I mean no offence," pursued Mr. March. "I repeat, you look like an honest young man, but you may be a Roundhead, and all Roundheads are rogues. Am I not right?" he cried to the others.

General assent to the proposition.

"You see what sort of society you are in, young man, and can draw your own conclusions," pursued the butler. "There may be good fellowship amongst us, or there may not, according as we find you. What are your principles – Royalist or Republican?"

"I am as staunch a Royalist as yourself, Mr. March," rejoined Charles, sturdily.

"Give me your hand. Now that we know your principles, we can trust you, and talk freely. This is a Royalist house. All within it are sworn to the king. Our honoured master, the colonel, fought for his majesty at Worcester, and we should have fought for him had we been there. Our young mistress rendered the king great service."

"Ay, that she did," cried Charles, earnestly – "services he ought never to forget."

"Ay, she's a brave young lady," said March, "and has more spirit in her than many a man. If the king could be saved by a woman, Mistress Jane is the one to do it."

"What has become of the king since Worcester fight?" inquired the supposed groom.

"Thou canst keep a secret, Will Jones? – ha!"

"Ay, marry, can I," was the answer.

"But swear thou wilt not reveal what I shall disclose to thee."

"If an oath be necessary, I swear to keep silence."

"Then learn that his sacred majesty is in this house. He came here yesterday. I recognised him at once, and let him see that I did so."

"Did he admit his high rank?"

"Not exactly – but he didn't deny it. Thou thyself hast seen him and conversed with him!"

Will Jones expressed his astonishment.

"Yes, he went with thee to the stables this morning."

"Was that the king?" cried Will Jones. "I should never have thought it."

"Wherefore not? Undoubtedly the person in question is much handsomer than his majesty is reported, for the Roundheads always paint him in black colours – but 'tis the king I will maintain."

At this moment Careless entered the buttery, and looked around as if in quest of some one.

"'Tis he!" exclaimed the butler, rising.

All the other servants rose at the same time, but Will Jones went on quietly with his breakfast.

"Get up," said March, in a low tone. "I tell thee 'tis the king."

"I am not supposed to know him," replied Will Jones.

"Don't disturb yourselves, I beg," said Careless. "When thou hast finished breakfast, Will, I want to speak to thee."

"I shall have done directly," rejoined the disguised groom, regardless of the butler's glances.

"Was there ever such an oaf!" cried March, in a low voice. "Has your majesty any commands that I can execute?" he added, stepping forward, and making a profound obeisance to Careless.

"Hush!" exclaimed the other. "You will betray me."

"No fear of Will Jones, my liege," rejoined March. "A dolt, but trusty. Your majesty may take him into your confidence."

"He knows who I am, then?" said Careless.

"He does, my liege. I made the revelation to him under a solemn pledge of secrecy. I hope I have not done wrong."

"If a mistake has been made, 'tis too late now to remedy it," said Careless.

"No harm has been done, I can assure your majesty. I'll answer for the young man. Will Jones!" he cried, authoritatively, "dost not perceive that thou art wanted?"

But the obstinate groom refused to move.

"Let him finish his breakfast, and then send him after me to the stables," said Careless, quitting the buttery.

"Is this thy respect for the king, sirrah?" cried March, rushing to the table, and snatching away the plate which the supposed Will Jones had just filled. "Not another mouthful shalt thou eat. After his majesty at once, and crave pardon for thy ill manners."

"He has interfered with my breakfast," grumbled Will Jones.

"Interfered with thee! Thou hast eaten too much already. Begone!"

But the imperturbable Will Jones deliberately filled a horn cup with ale, emptied it, and then marched off, leaving the butler and the other servants perfectly astounded at his coolness.

CHAPTER V.

HOW THEY SET OUT ON THE JOURNEY

About half an hour afterwards, Charles, fully equipped for the journey, rode round from the stables to the front of the house. He was mounted on the horse about which there had been so much discussion, and had a pillion behind him, and a musket at the saddle-bow. He was accompanied by Lutwyche, who was likewise mounted on a "double horse," intended for Mr. Petre and his wife.

It may be incidentally remarked that this sociable and agreeable mode of travelling was customary at the time, and continued to be common enough in certain parts of the country up to the close of the last century, and even later.

Having arrived in the middle of the night, Charles had scarcely seen the old mansion, but while waiting with Lutwyche for the coming forth of the party, he had an opportunity of examining it, and was much struck with its aspect. Ordinarily, it must be owned the house had a somewhat gloomy look, but it was seen to peculiar advantage on that bright and cheerful September morning, and Charles thought he could have passed a few days there very pleasantly, if his enemies would have allowed him.

He was still surveying the house, noting its picturesque outline of gables, when the front door was thrown open by March, the butler, and several persons issued forth. Foremost among them was Mr. Petre, a stout, hearty country gentleman, with nothing very remarkable about him. Mr. Petre was of a good Buckinghamshire family, and was married, as we have already intimated, to Jane Lane's elder sister. He was closely followed by his wife, who possessed considerable personal attractions, and behind Mrs. Petre came Jane Lane and her mother. Mrs. Lane was a sister of Sir Hervey Bagot, of Blithfield, and a very fine old gentlewoman.

The horses were now led to the door, and Mr. and Mrs. Petre having mounted, the king's turn came. He was not very successful in his first essay, and got sharply reprimanded for his awkwardness by Mrs. Lane. Totally unacquainted with the real rank of the supposed groom, the old lady had regarded him curiously, and was quite puzzled by his appearance and manner. She felt sure he did not understand his work, and wondered that Colonel Lane should engage such a man. But when Will Jones in assisting his young mistress to mount her horse, despite all hints given him, offered her the wrong hand, the old lady could no longer contain herself, but called out:

"Why, how now, thou clumsy fellow! Art thou such a block-head as not to know thy right hand from the left? Thou art not fit for thy place."

"Chide him not, dear mother," said Jane. "He has had but little experience."

"So it would appear," replied the old lady, dryly.

"Excuse me, madam, I hope to do better in time," said Charles, modestly. "I shall use my best endeavours to please my young mistress."

And as he spoke he sprang into the saddle with a grace and quickness that surprised the old lady.

"By my troth, now that he has taken his seat on horseback, the fellow looks like a Cavalier," remarked Mr. Petre to his wife.

"Yes; he may not understand the duties of a groom – but he sits a horse well – that's certain," replied Mrs. Petre.

At this juncture, a large party appeared at the other end of the terrace. Colonel Lane came from the stables accompanied by Lord Wilmot and Careless, and followed by Randal, the head falconer, bearing on his wrist a hawk in her hood and bewits. With Randal were two other falconers, one of whom was furnished with a hoop on which two or three hawks were perched, while the other had a hawking-pole and a couple of spaniels in leash.

Of course, Colonel Lane and his friends were on horseback, and the whole party, viewed in connexion with the old mansion, formed a cheerful picture, which the king contemplated with undisguised pleasure.

"Methinks Will Jones would prefer joining that hawking-party to riding on with me," remarked Jane, in a low voice.

Charles sighed, but made no other response.

At this moment Colonel Lane rode up to Mr. Petre, and said:

"Pray don't wait for us. We shall come on slowly, for we may chance on a heron in the park, and we are certain to find plenty of partridges in the corn-fields. We shall always be in your rear as a guard, and if we don't overtake you before, we shall find you at Packington Hall, where you will halt for a couple of hours."