Great Britain -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
The man placed the bugle to his lips, and the merry notes rang out into
the obscurity. All remained silent, then, like an echo from east and
west, almost in unison, came a similar call; and faintly in the further
distance another. The company seemed to increase mysteriously, as if
pikemen were being distilled out of the fog, and after a roll-call,
every name being answered, the lieutenant gave the word to march, and
horse and foot set out for the west, the two prisoners in the centre
of the phalanx. The head of Frances drooped, and Will rode close by her
side as cheerful as ever, trying to comfort her.
“Clever man, this Cromwell,” he whispered with admiration in his tones.
“You see what he has done? He has run thin lines across the country as
fast as horses could gallop, stringing out the local men as they went
along. We have probably blundered through one or two of these lines, but
were bound to be caught sooner or later, unless we made for the coast on
either side, and that would but have delayed things a bit, for there was
little chance of us getting ship with all ports in his hands. It serves
me right. I should have killed De Courcy and then galloped for it.
However, the Lord stands by us, Frances; never forget that.”
“It doesn’t look much like it,” said the girl despondently.
“Oh, well, nothing looks like itself in this accursed fog. Why could n’t
we have had this mist on the road from York? Still, I don’t think it
would have made any difference, once Cromwell’s riders got to the north
of us. Resourceful man, Oliver. I like him.”
“And I don’t. Yet you are supposed to be against him, and I am supposed
to be for him. I fear him; I fear him.”
“Oh, there’s no danger; not the slightest for either of us. You have
done your task, and have done it well. I am the blunderer. But I stand
on my status as a Scot, and I will argue the matter out with him. The
man I tumbled into the ditch was the King’s Chamberlain, and not a
Parliamentarian, and a foreigner at that. The document I am supposed to
carry was not given to me by the King, but taken by force from a minion
of the King, and a Frenchman. I have assaulted no Englishman, and
Cromwell knew I was travelling on this pass. He cannot deny that he
wrote it, and for exactly the purpose it has served. Oh, I shall have a
beautiful legal argument with Old Noll, and will upset him with his own
law. I’m in no danger; neither are you.”
“I trust it will appear so.”
“It cannot appear otherwise. He was trying to frighten you when he said
he would hang me. He is a sly, capable dog, who will be satisfied with
having beaten me, and will not court trouble with my countrymen by
hanging even a Borderer. It cost one of our Kings his throne to do the
like of that.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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