CHAPTER VI.

WHAT PASSED BETWEEN WILL JONES AND THE BLACKSMITH.

They were now in the fair county of Warwick, and only a few miles from Packington Hall, the seat of Sir Clement Fisher. Crowning an eminence, said to be as high as any ground in England, this fine old mansion commanded a magnificent prospect over a most lovely country. From its elevated position, the stately pile could be descried afar, and on learning to whom it belonged, Charles regarded the house with great interest, and was well pleased by reflection that Jane might one day become its mistress. The mansion was embosomed in a grove haunted by rooks, and the park contained much noble timber.

Suddenly Mr. Petre called out to the supposed groom:

"Why, Will, thy horse has cast a shoe. Luckily, we are near a village, where thou wilt be sure to find a blacksmith."

Presently they came to a pretty little inn, very pleasantly situated on the outskirts of the village, and having a large tree in front of it, encircled by a bench. Here the party alighted, and Mr. Petre ordered a pottle of sack, while Charles took his horse to the smithy, which was at no great distance from the inn. Bryan Compton, the smith, was a big, burly fellow, with a broad honest face begrimed by smoke. His brawny arms were bared to the shoulder, and a leather apron was tied round his waist. Pleased by his physiognomy, Charles took it into his head that the man must be a Royalist, but in this he was mistaken. The blacksmith proved to be a sturdy, outspoken Republican.

Not happening to be busy at the time, Bryan set to work at once, and having selected an iron plate, was heating it in his forge, when Charles asked him, "What news?"

"Nay, I ought to ask you that question," rejoined Bryan. "We hear but little in this retired village, and I reckon it would be no news to you to learn that that harebrained Charles Stuart has been routed at Worcester. He deserved to be beaten if only for bringing the Scots to England."

"You are right," said Charles, "and I think he must have found out his mistake. It seems the Scots wouldn't stand by him."

"Stand by him! not they! They soon ran away from Old Noll. I hope they're all driven out of the country."

"But I've heard say there were many English nobles and gentlemen with Charles Stuart," remarked the king. "Have any of them been taken?"

"Not that I know of," replied the smith. "There's one person I should like to capture," he added, working away vigorously at the bellows.

"Ah! who's he?" inquired the supposed groom.

"Charles Stuart himself," rejoined the smith, placing the red-hot iron on the anvil and making the sparks fly about, as he hammered it into shape. "I wish I had the chance of taking him--ha! ha! But he's not likely to come this way." Then resting for a moment, he asked, "Where do you come from, friend--and where may you be going?"

"I come from Bentley House with my young mistress, and am taking her to Packington Hall," replied Charles, readily.

"Why, then, you must be Mistress Jane Lane's groom," observed the smith. "The gossip hereabouts is that Sir Clement Fisher is betrothed to her. But I don't think the marriage will take place just yet."

"Wherefore not?" inquired the king.

"Because Sir Clement has got himself into trouble by his foolish adherence to Charles Stuart. He is sure to be heavily fined, if not imprisoned. Why, you look confounded, young man. Hold up your horse's foot while I clap on the shoe."

Charles complied, and nothing more passed between them until the smith had completed his job, when he remarked:

"This is a good horse of yours, friend. He would go a long way without tiring."

"Yes, I have ridden him a good many miles at a stretch" rejoined Charles.

"Perchance from Worcester to Bentley House?" remarked the smith, with a knowing look.

"Not quite so far as that," replied the king.

"Nay, I don't wish to appear inquisitive," said the smith. "I've heard that Colonel Lane was at Worcester, and I thought you might have been there with him."

"I am Mistress Jane Lane's servant, as I have already told you," said Charles.

"Mistress Jane was at Worcester as well as her brother, unless I have been misinformed," rejoined the smith.

Charles made no answer, but paid for the shoe, and departed.

"There's something odd about that young man," mused the smith, looking after him. "I should like to have questioned him a little more. However, I shan't forget him or his horse."