The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45Ainsworth, William Harrison
History
The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45
Ainsworth, William Harrison
Great Britain -- History -- George II, 1727-1760 -- Fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction
After revolving several plans, all of which were fraught with
difficulties and dangers, he came to the conclusion that it would be
best to proceed to London, where he would be safer than elsewhere, and
might possibly find an opportunity of embarking for Flanders or
Holland. Moreover, he might be able to render some assistance to his
unfortunate friends. But, as we have said, he had no decided plans;
and it is quite certain that nothing but the apprehension of further
treachery on the part of Father Jerome prevented him from secretly
returning to Rawcliffe Hall.
He walked on briskly for about a mile, and then struck into a path on
the left, which he thought would lead him through the fields to Tatton
Park, but it brought him to a height from which he obtained a charming
view of Rosthern Mere--the whole expanse of this lovely lake being
spread out before him. On the summit of a high bank, at the southern
extremity of the mere, stood the ancient church, embosomed in trees,
and near it were the few scattered farm-houses and cottages that
constituted the village.
The morning being very bright and clear, the prospect was seen to the
greatest advantage, and, after contemplating it for a few minutes, he
descended the woody slopes, and on reaching the valley shaped his
course along the margin of the lake towards the village, which was not
very far distant.
As he proceeded fresh beauties were disclosed, and he more than once
stopped to gaze at them. Presently he drew near a delightful spot,
where a babbling brook, issuing from the mere, crossed the road, and
disappeared amid an adjoining grove. Leaning against the rail of a
little wooden bridge, and listening to the murmuring brooklet, stood
an elderly personage. His features were stamped with melancholy, and
his general appearance seemed much changed, but Atherton at once
recognised Dr. Deacon.
Surprised at seeing him there, the young man hastened on, and as he
advanced the doctor raised his head and looked at him.
After a moment's scrutiny, he exclaimed:
"Do my eyes deceive me, or is it Atherton Legh?" And when the other
replied in the affirmative, he said: "What are you doing here? Are you
aware that a reward has been offered for your apprehension? You are
running into danger."
"I have just had a very narrow escape of arrest," replied Atherton;
"and am in search of a place of concealment. If I could be safe
anywhere, I should think it must be in this secluded village."
"I will give you temporary shelter," said the doctor. "I have been so
persecuted in Manchester since the prince's retreat, and the surrender
of Carlisle, that I have been compelled to retire to this quiet place.
Come with me to my cottage--but I cannot answer for your safety."
"I would willingly accept the offer if I did not fear I should
endanger you," replied Atherton.
"Let not that consideration deter you," said Dr. Deacon. "It matters
little what happens to me now that I have lost my sons."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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