Boscobel; or, the royal oak: A tale of the year 1651

CHAPTER VII.

Chapter 1081,442 wordsPublic domain

HOW THE KING WAS PRESENTED TO MRS. WHITGREAVE.

Though the night was now far spent, and he had undergone great fatigue, Charles felt so happy in the society of Lord Wilmot and the others, that he was unwilling to retire to rest, and remained for some time in conversation with the party. Not before three o'clock in the morning, did he ask his host where he was to sleep.

Mr. Whitgreave conducted him to a large chamber panelled with black oak, in which stood an old-fashioned bedstead, with heavy furniture, and a carved canopy almost touching the ceiling.

While looking at this large comfortable bed, Charles feared Mr. Whitgreave would tell him that his safety demanded that he should sleep in some secret closet; but no such suggestion was made.

"I am delighted with my room," said the king to his host; "but where are the hiding-places? I should like to see them, in case an emergency should arise."

"I intended to show them to you to-morrow, my liege," replied Mr. Whitgreave. "But you shall see them at once."

With this he led the king along a narrow passage to another chamber, in which there was a small bed.

"This is my room," said Careless, who accompanied them. "But I am quite ready to give it up to your Majesty, should you prefer it to the large oak chamber you have just seen."

"I have no such desire," rejoined Charles.

"Wait till you have seen the arrangements, my liege," said Careless.

"This room has a false floor, my liege," he said, "and beneath is a narrow passage leading to the ground floor by the brewhouse chimney. But this I will more fully explain to your majesty on the morrow."

"Enough," replied Charles. "I am quite content with what I have seen. I shall now sleep soundly."

He then returned to the oak chamber, and his recent privations made him greatly enjoy the luxury of the large and comfortable bed.

Every possible precaution was taken by Mr. Whitgreave and Father Huddlestone to prevent any of the household from obtaining sight of the king. The servants were given to understand that a fugitive Cavalier had arrived at the house during the night, and was lodged in the oak bedchamber, but they believed him to be a relative of their master, and had no suspicion whatever of the truth.

Charles slept very soundly in his large and comfortable bed, and when he awoke he found Careless watching beside him. After the customary morning salutations had passed between them, Careless pointed to a rich velvet suit spread out on a fauteuil, and said:

"I pray your majesty to look at these habiliments. Your worthy host hopes you will deign to wear them during your stay at Moseley Hall."

"Faith! I am infinitely obliged by the attention," replied Charles. "Pray is Mr. Whitgreave married?"

"Not yet, sire," replied Careless. "But his mother resides with him, and Father Huddlestone tells me the old lady is wonderfully anxious to be presented to your majesty."

"Oddsfish! she must be content to see me in my peasant's costume," said Charles. "Had she been young and fair I might have put on that rich suit to please her. I shall only require some clean linen."

"A shirt is already provided for you, sire, as you perceive," replied Careless.

"'Sdeath! I can never wear that fine shirt," cried Charles. "The laced ruffles would betray me at once."

"Well, here is a country noggen shirt, with coarse hosen to match. Do they please you, sire?"

"The noggen shirt and rough hose will suit me exactly," said the king. "As a punishment for tempting me with fine linen, thou shalt help to resume my disguise."

"Willingly, sire. I am here for the purpose of helping you to make your toilette."

Once more habited in his forester's dress, to which he had now become accustomed, Charles was cautiously conducted by Careless to the library, where he found Lord Wilmot, with his host and Father Huddlestone.

His majesty was received with more ceremony than he liked, and he put an end to it by sitting down to the breakfast prepared for him, and begging the others to join him. They excused themselves, alleging that they had already breakfasted, but Careless having no such excuse to offer, obeyed without the slightest hesitation. The king, however, could not prevent his host and Father Huddlestone from serving him.

Charles was in very good spirits, chatted familiarly with every one present, and seemed to make light of all difficulties and dangers. Mr. Whitgreave was quite surprised by his cheerfulness, and could not help expressing admiration at the manner in which his majesty bore his misfortunes.

"I never suffer myself to be cast down," said the king. "And I have hitherto found my courage rise in proportion to the dangers by which I have been surrounded."

"With the spirit you possess, my liege, and with Heaven's support," observed Father Huddlestone, who was standing by, "you cannot fail to overcome all difficulties, and must regain the throne."

"I trust your prediction will be fulfilled, father," replied Charles. "I can afford to wait. After the failure of my great enterprise, nothing more can be done in England at present. Another army cannot be raised. My object, as you are aware, is to reach the coast and embark for France. But I am environed by enemies."

"This reminds me, sire," said Whitgreave, "that my mother has just received a message, brought by a faithful emissary from Bentley House, which it may import you to hear, as I think it concerns your majesty."

"I must chide you for not presenting your mother to me ere this, Mr. Whitgreave," said Charles. "It will delight me to see her."

"The omission shall be repaired at once, sire," replied Whitgreave.

Making an obeisance, he quitted the library, and presently returned with a tall elderly dame, who had still to some extent preserved her good looks.

Mr. Whitgreave led his mother by the hand towards the king, who saluted her very graciously and prevented her from kneeling, telling her with many kind expressions how much he was indebted to her son for receiving him at this perilous juncture.

"Ah, sire," she exclaimed, "my son and myself are only too proud to receive you, and would sacrifice our lives to accomplish your deliverance. Jane Lane, who is devoted to your majesty, and whom I love dearly as a daughter, has just sent a message to me to say that her brother has obtained a pass from Captain Stone, governor of Stafford, for herself and a groom to go into the west."

And she paused.

"Well, madam, what more?" asked Charles.

"I scarcely dare venture to propose that your majesty should perform the part of a groom, yet seeing you in this garb----"

"Hesitate not to make the suggestion, madam," interrupted the king. "So far from regarding it as a degradation, I shall be delighted to act as Jane Lane's groom. The proposal meets my wishes exactly, and seems to offer me the chance I so eagerly desire of reaching the coast. What sort of person is Captain Stone?"

"A fierce Parliamentarian," replied Whitgreave. "I have reason to remember him. At the conclusion of the Civil Wars he came hither in quest of me, and searched the house most rigorously. But I had taken refuge in one of the hiding-places, and escaped his vigilance."

"The circumstance you mention not only illustrates Captain Stone's character, but proves the security of the hiding-place," observed Charles. He then turned to Lord Wilmot, and said, "It strikes me very forcibly, Wilmot, that this pass must have been procured for you."

"Very likely, Colonel Lane obtained it for me," was the reply. "But I gladly resign it to your majesty."

"Nay, I cannot take your place," said the king.

"You will deeply hurt me by a refusal, sire," said Lord Wilmot. "And now a word to you, Mr. Whitgreave, and I beg your particular attention to what I am about to say. Should any search be made by the rebels for the king while I am in your house, I desire that I may be given up, in order to divert them from his majesty."

"I have not been consulted, Mr. Whitgreave," said Charles. "And I peremptorily forbid you to act as directed by Lord Wilmot. Let no more be said on the subject."

Mr. Whitgreave bowed.

At this juncture, Mrs. Whitgreave, fancying she might be in the way, craved permission to retire, and made a profound obeisance to the king, who conducted her to the door.