CHAPTER I.

HOW THE TWO GROOMS CHANGED HORSES AT STOKE-ON-THE-WOLD.

A fine, fresh, autumnal morning gladdened Charles and his fair companion as they set out from Long Marston. The king was in excellent spirits, and laughed at his adventures on the previous night. After passing Church Honeybourne and Weston Subedge, they ascended Dover's Hill, on which the renowned Cotswold Games, sung by Ben Jonson and Drayton, were celebrated in the time of the king's grandsire, but were discontinued on the outbreak of the Civil Wars. While crossing this hill, which had been the scene of so many pleasant gatherings in former days, Charles promised himself that if he ever ruled the land those manly sports should be revived. From this eminence they looked down upon the fair and fertile valley in which Chipping-Campden is situated, and after enjoying the delightful prospect for a short time, they descended from the uplands and rode towards the pleasant old town.

Chipping-Campden, at the period of our story, was a great mart for wool; and it chanced that on this very day a large sheep fair was held in the vicinity of the town. Numerous flocks of sheep driven by shepherds and attended by farmers, mounted on horses as rough-looking as themselves, beset the road.

As Charles rode on, hoping to pass through the throng unmolested, the sheep-breeders pressed around him, each vaunting the excellence of his fleeces, and affirming that he had the best sheep on the Cotswolds. Jane took upon herself to answer, and explained that they were merely travellers, and did not desire to purchase wool. The explanation did not prove altogether satisfactory, and the churlish farmers began to eye the supposed groom suspiciously.

"Thee warn't bred on the Wowlds," remarked one of them. "Where dost come from?"

"Why, thou'rt as fierce as a Cotswold lion, and that's a sheep," rejoined Charles. "What be it to thee where I come from?"

"Thou look'st as sharp as if thou lived on Tewkesbury mustard," cried the farmer.

"And I should take thee to be a man of Dursley," responded Charles, who was acquainted with some of the local proverbs.

"Why, there he has hit thee, Guy Naunton," cried another of the farmers. "I never knowed thee keep a promise."

"I never broke my word to thee, Mat Mickleton, or to any one else," rejoined Naunton, angrily.

"Did any of you ever join the sports on Dover's Hill?" cried Charles.

"Why dost ask?" cried Mickleton.

"Because I would challenge one and all of you to run, leap, wrestle, or use the quarter-staff," rejoined Charles.

"There be no more Cotswold Games now--more's the pity!" cried Mickleton. "But I be ready and willing to try a bowt with thee at quarter-staff."

"No, no, Will Jones," interposed Jane. "Pass on thy way. Thou wilt get into a brawl with these men."

"Thy groom be a saucy knave, and shall give an account of himself to the town bailiff," said Naunton.

"Keep thy hands off my bridle, or I will lay my whip on thy shoulders," cried Charles, sharply.

"Contain yourself, or we shall have a quarrel," whispered Jane, beginning to feel alarmed at the menacing looks thrown at the king. "Let me go, I beg of you," she added aloud to the others. "I have a pass for myself and my servant."

"Show it to the bailiff," rejoined Naunton. "We'll take you to him."

Chipping-Campden consisted of a single street of some length, in the centre of which stood the Court-house and the Market-house. Owing to the fair the little town was very full, and the concourse collected in the market-place stared hard at the strange cavalcade as it approached, the general impression being that a fugitive Cavalier had been captured.

Informed that an arrest had been made, the bailiff, as the chief magistrate of the place was styled, came forth from the Court-house, to ascertain particulars, and when an explanation had been given him, and Jane's pass produced for his inspection, he directed that the lady should be allowed to proceed on her journey without further hindrance.

"As you have thought fit to stop her without authority," he said to the farmers, "my order is that you make amends by conducting her to the further end of the town."

This was done, and Charles and his fair companion got safely out of Chipping-Campden.

Skirting Northwick Park, and passing over the bleak downs beyond Blockley, they reached Bourton-on-the-Hill, where they halted for a short time. Being now among the wolds, they had nothing before them but a succession of low, rolling downs, which afforded excellent pasture for sheep, but were entirely uncultivated, and covered with great patches of furze. Not a village was to be seen for miles--only, here and there, a solitary farm-house or a shepherd's cot.

On mounting the lofty hill on which Stow-on-the-Wold is situated, the travellers obtained an extensive view of the wild district they had just traversed. Stow-on-the-Wold is said to want three of the elements--fire, earth, and water. How this may be we know not, but air it can never lack, seeing that it is exposed to all the winds of heaven. Bleaker place cannot be found. What the old town might be like in winter, when the hill on the summit of which it was perched was covered with snow, and when the bitter north wind howled round the corners of the houses, and found its way through every window and door, Charles did not care to consider. It looked pleasant and cheerful now, with the sun shining brightly on the quaint old buildings, and upon the pinnacles of the lofty church tower.

Riding up to the hostel, which bore the sign of the Three Choughs, our travellers alighted, and while Charles took the horse to the stables, Jane put herself under the care of the landlady--a decent middle-aged dame--and was conducted by her to a private room, where refreshments were soon afterwards set before her.

As Charles was returning from the stable, another arrival took place, that brought forth host and hostess. A second groom, with a young dame seated behind him on a pillion, had ridden up to the inn door.

Great was the king's astonishment on discovering that the new-comers were no other than Careless and Dame Gives, the latter having resumed the habits of her sex, while the former had put on a disguise similar to his own. On beholding the king, Dame Gives called out:

"Ah, Will Jones, I am glad to see thee. My man, Tom Elton, has ridden hard to overtake thee and thy young mistress, and at last he has succeeded."

"I did not know you were following us, madam, or I would have stopped," replied Charles. "My young lady is in the house."

"She is partaking of a slight repast within, madam," remarked the hostess. "Shall I take you to her?"

Dame Gives then alighted and entered the house, while Charles and Careless marched off together to the stable. As soon as he could find an opportunity Careless explained the cause of his unexpected appearance, as well as the object of his disguise.

"Those confounded troopers, Ezra and Madmannah, are following your majesty," he said; "and I have adopted this disguise to baffle them. Evidently, the object of the rogues is to secure to themselves the whole of the reward offered for your apprehension, and they will not, therefore, let any of their comrades into their plan. Had they done so you must have been captured. That Worcester horse has been the main cause of their getting on your track. The blacksmith at the little village near Packington Park described the horse you had brought to his smithy, and Madmannah at once knew it to be his own. Having obtained this information, they came to Packington Hall, and owing to that piece of imprudence I discovered their plans, and immediately started after them. They went on to Henley-in-Arden, to Wootton, and Stratford-on-Avon, where they passed the night. At Stratford I was fortunate enough to meet with Dame Gives, and she suggested the plan to me, which, as you see, I have put into execution. Everything necessary to carry it out was procured at Stratford, the groom's dress I now wear, and the pillion for Dame Gives, who readily agreed to accompany me. All that now remains to be done is that your majesty and myself should change horses, and then I will undertake to put the rogues on a false scent."

"Oddsfish! 'tis an excellent plan!" cried Charles, laughing heartily. "No wit like a woman's wit, and Dame Gives is as sharp-witted as any of her sex."

Careless then proceeded to inform the king that he had left Stratford-on-Avon before sunrise, so that as far as he could judge they must be considerably in advance of the troopers.

"I give your majesty half an hour here--not longer," said Careless.

"Half an hour will suffice," said the king. "But let us in at once. I feel outrageously hungry."

Entering the house, they called out lustily for something to eat, whereupon a cold meat pie and the remains of a ham were set before them. On these they set to work, and in less time than had been allowed by Careless had entirely demolished the pie and emptied a jug of ale. They had just finished their repast when the hostess informed them that the ladies were ready to start, whereupon they proceeded to the stable and changed horses, as agreed upon.

Meanwhile, Dame Gives had fully explained matters to Jane, who quite approved of the plan. On coming forth she made no remark, but unhesitatingly took her seat behind the king, who was now mounted on the horse previously ridden by Careless. Dame Gives was equally expeditious in her movements, and the two grooms setting off at once, the change of steeds was unnoticed by the host and hostess.

Before descending the hill Careless surveyed the country round, but could descry nothing of the pursuers.

Leaving the old mansion of Maugersbury on the left, they entered a pleasant valley, watered by a clear trout-stream, and proceeded along the old Roman Foss Way. After crossing Stow Bridge, they passed a charming little village through the midst of which ran the trout-stream before mentioned, and shaped their course towards Bourton-on-the-Water.

Nothing could be pleasanter than this part of the ride, and enlivened by the cheerful companionship of Careless and Dame Gives, Charles for a time gave vent to his natural gaiety, and seemed quite to forget that the enemy was on his track.

Though apparently quite as unconcerned as his royal master, Careless kept a sharp look-out. Nothing, however, had occurred to cause them alarm. After passing through the pretty town of Bourton-on-the-Water, the houses of which are built on either side of the river Windrush, they returned to the Foss Way, which they had temporarily quitted.