Friends, though divided: A Tale of the Civil WarHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
Friends, though divided: A Tale of the Civil War
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Juvenile fiction
A slight wreath of smoke was seen curling up through the crevice of the
tightly-fitting stone.
"We will leap out, and die sword in hand," the prince said; and seizing
the ring, he and Harry pulled at it. Ere they raised the stone an inch,
a volume of dense smoke poured up, and they at once dropped it into its
place again, feeling that their retreat was cut off. The prince put his
sword in its scabbard.
"We must die, my lad," he said. "A strange death, too, to be roasted in
a trap. But after all, whether by that or the thrust of a Roundhead
sword makes little difference in the end. I would fain have fallen in
the field, though."
"Perhaps," Harry suggested, "the fire may not reach us here. The walls
are very thick, and the chamber below is empty."
The prince shook his head.
"The heat of the fire in a house like this will crack stone walls," he
said.
He then took off his cloak and threw it over the stone, dressing it down
tightly to prevent the smoke from curling in. Through the loophole they
could now hear a roar, and crackling sounds, and a sudden glow lit up
the country.
"The flames are bursting through the windows," Harry said. "They will
bring our troop down ere long."
"The troop will do us no good," Prince Rupert replied. "All the king's
army could not rescue us. But at least it would be a satisfaction before
we die to see these crop-eared knaves defeated."
Minute after minute passed, and a broad glare of light illumined the
whole country round. Through the slit they could see the Roundheads
keeping guard round the house in readiness to cut off any one who might
seek to make his escape, while at a short distance off they had drawn up
the main body of the force. Presently, coming along the road at a rapid
trot, they saw a body of horse.
"There are our men," the prince exclaimed.
The Roundheads had seen them too. A trumpet was sounded, and the men on
guard round the house leaped to their horses, and joined the main body,
just as the Cavaliers charged upon them. The Roundheads fought stoutly;
but the charge of the Cavaliers was irresistible. Furious at the sight
of the house in flames, and ignorant of the fate which had befallen
their prince and their master's son, they burst upon the Roundheads with
a force which the latter were unable to withstand. For four or five
minutes the fight continued, and then such of the Roundheads as were
able clapped spurs to their horses and galloped off, hotly pursued by
the Cavaliers. The pursuit was a short one. Several of the Cavaliers
were gathered at the spot where the conflict had taken place, and were,
apparently, questioning a wounded man. Then the trumpeter who was with
them sounded the recall, and in a few minutes the Royalist troops came
riding back. They could see Jacob pointing to the burning building and
gesticulating with his arms. Then a party dashed up to the house, and
were lost to sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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