CHAPTER III.

COLONEL FRANCIS WYNDHAM, OF TRENT.

Understanding from Pope that a fugitive Cavalier had sought shelter at Abbots Leigh, Mr. Norton had a private interview with his guest, and on learning his name, offered him all the assistance in his power.

Thanking him most heartily, Careless said if he would provide him with a horse he would esteem it a very great favour.

"What is more, Mr. Norton," he added, "you will materially serve the king."

"Since it is for his majesty's service," replied Mr. Norton, "you shall have the best horse in my stable. Return him or not, as may suit your convenience."

"I shall not fail to acquaint his majesty with your zeal in his behalf, sir," said Careless. "He is well aware of your attachment to him."

"I only wish I had a better opportunity of proving my loyalty, sir. I pray you say as much to the king. I will not ask questions which you may be unwilling to answer, but I shall unfeignedly rejoice to hear that his majesty has escaped."

"I trust it will not be long before you receive that satisfactory intelligence, sir," said Careless. "And I am sure it will gratify you to reflect that you have contributed to so desirable a result. When next we meet I hope I may salute you as Sir George Norton."

"I hope so, too, sir," rejoined the other; "for in that case his majesty will have been restored to the throne."

After this interview Careless was not allowed to return to his place of concealment in the stable, but was lodged in a chamber in the upper part of the house, not far from the room occupied by the king, so that they had an opportunity of conferring together.

At a very early hour on the following morning Careless started on his mission. He was well mounted, for Mr. Norton had strictly fulfilled his promise, and given him his best horse. In his present distracted frame of mind, nothing could have suited the king's faithful adherent better than the task he had undertaken, as he hoped that hard exercise would enable him to shake off the painful idea by which he was haunted.

He rode on throughout the day, halting only when it was necessary to refresh his steed. Fortunately, he met with no hindrance, though once or twice he was compelled to quit the direct course. His last halt was at Sherborne, and he was then nearly at the end of his journey.

A pleasant ride of a few miles from this charming old town brought him to a secluded little village, consisting only of a few scattered cottages, in the midst of which stood an antique church.

This was Trent. It was growing dusk as he approached the village, and the place was so surrounded by trees that he could only just discern the spire of the church. But he knew that in the midst of those lofty elms stood the old manor-house, of which he was in quest, so he rode on without making any inquiries from the few rustics he encountered.

Pursuing his course along a narrow winding lane, overhung by trees, and skirted here and there by a cottage, having whitewashed walls and a grey thatched roof, he came to the church, close to which stood the old manor-house--a large, low building, solidly constructed of stone, with shingled roof, mullioned windows, and an entrance covered by a pent house. This was the rear of the mansion, but the front looked upon a smooth lawn, bordered, as we have said, by lofty elm-trees, inhabited by a colony of rooks.

Trent House was not approached by an avenue, and to this circumstance it chiefly owed its extreme privacy. The entrance being at the rear was reached from a large yard, differing very little, except in size, from the enclosure ordinarily attached to a substantial farm-house. On the right of the yard were the stables and other outbuildings.

Careless had pulled up at the gate, and was contemplating the old house, and thinking how well adapted it was as a place of refuge for the king, when a serving-man, who was crossing the yard from the stables, noticed him, and at once came up to ascertain his business. As the man drew near he recognised Major Careless, and saluting him respectfully, addressed him by name.

"Your honour has forgotten me, I make no doubt," he said, taking off his cap as he spoke. "I am Harry Peters, and was once your groom."

"Nay, I have not forgotten thee, Harry," replied Careless. "I am glad to find thee here, for I know thee to be a trusty fellow, and thou may'st be of use to me, and to another beside me. Is Colonel Wyndham at home?" And as Peters responded in the affirmative, he added, "that's well; open the gate, and let me in. Now go tell thy master that Mr. Morton desires to speak with him."

"Had I not better announce your honour correctly?"

"Do as I bid thee," said Careless.

And Peters departed.

Left alone Careless dismounted, awaiting Colonel Wyndham's appearance. In a minute or two afterwards the colonel came out of the house and marched towards him.

The former governor of Dunster Castle was a remarkably fine-looking man, in the prime of life, and, though plainly attired, had a very distinguished air, and looked like one accustomed to command.

When within a few yards of the stranger he suddenly stopped, and exclaimed:

"Why, how is this? My man said that Mr. Morton, of whom I know nothing, and never heard of before, desired to see me, but I find it is my old friend Will Careless."

"Yes, 'tis I, in good truth, Frank," replied the other, laughing. "But I had reasons for the disguise, as I will explain anon."

"You are welcome to Trent, Will--right welcome--under whatever name you come," said Colonel Wyndham, heartily. "Take Mr. Morton's horse to the stable," he added to Peters. "Now come in with me, and I will present you to my wife and mother."

"Hold a moment, Frank," cried Careless. "I must have a word with you. When you have heard what I have to say, you will judge what is best to be done. I come from the king."

Colonel Wyndham started back, and uttered an exclamation of joy and surprise.

"You amaze me!" he cried. "We heard that his majesty was slain at Worcester."

"'Twas a false report, invented by the enemy," replied Careless. "Not only is the king alive and well, but he is coming to take refuge with you here at Trent."

"By Heaven, I am glad to hear it!" cried the colonel. "No news could please me better--nay, not half so well. As the bearer of such joyful tidings thou art doubly welcome, Will. And think not there is need of secrecy. I will answer for my womankind as I would for myself. Of my mother, Lady Wyndham, I need not speak, for you know her."

"And know her to be loyal," remarked Careless.

"My wife is just as loyal," pursued the colonel. "And my fair cousin, Juliana Coningsby, is as loyal as my wife. They have been profoundly grieved by the rumour I have just alluded to of the king's death; but Juliana refused to credit it, and maintained her confident belief that he is still living, and will be restored to the throne."

"'Tis clear from what you say, Frank, that there will be no risk in communicating the secret to your ladies."

"Fear nothing. Women can keep a secret as well as we men can--better, perhaps. My household consists of some twenty persons, and I firmly believe there is not a traitor among them."

"That is much to say. Yet 'twill be best not to try their fidelity. There is one honest fellow, I'll be sworn--Harry Peters."

"Peters is not an exception--they are all honest. But come in. I am anxious to acquaint the ladies with the good news respecting the king."

He then took Careless into the house, and led him to a parlour, which was lighted by a lamp placed on the table. In this room three ladies were assembled, two of them being young, and engaged on some feminine occupation, while the third and oldest of the party was reading a devotional work.

The elderly dame, as will be surmised, was the colonel's mother. Lady Wyndham had a stately figure and a dignified deportment, and though her finely formed features bore the impress of age, they were still regular in outline. Her costume belonged to an earlier period, and suited her well. Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Wyndham, the heiress to whom the colonel owed Trent, possessed considerable personal attractions--magnificent black eyes and luxuriant black tresses.

A striking contrast to Mrs. Wyndham was Juliana Coningsby--a charming blonde, with summer blue eyes, delicately formed features, snow-white skin, and light locks. When she smiled--and she smiled very frequently--two rows of exquisite pearls were displayed. Juliana was just nineteen, and our description would be incomplete if we did not add that her figure was slight and exceedingly graceful.

Careless's appearance caused some excitement among the company. As we have intimated, he was known to Lady Wyndham, who received him very cordially, and after he had said a few words to her he was presented in due form to the other ladies.

When the presentation had taken place, Colonel Wyndham remarked:

"Major Careless brings us very good news. The rumour we have heard of the king's death at Worcester is utterly unfounded. His majesty is safe and well."

"I can vouch for that, since I only left him this morning," added Careless.

Joyful exclamations arose from all. Juliana clapped her hands together, and called out:

"I knew it! I knew the king was safe. Nothing would persuade me to the contrary. And I am just as sure now that he will escape his enemies, and regain the throne."

"His majesty will be delighted to find he has such a zealous partisan," observed Careless, smiling at her vivacity. "You must give him the assurance from your own lips."

"I should like to have an opportunity of doing so," she rejoined.

"Then your wish will be speedily gratified, Juliana," said Colonel Wyndham. "You will very soon have an opportunity of conversing with the king."

His wife and Lady Wyndham were greatly surprised by the announcement, and questioned him as to its meaning by their looks; but Juliana called out:

"You are jesting with me, Frank."

"Not so," he rejoined. "But I won't keep you longer in suspense. Learn then that the king is coming here."

"His majesty coming to Trent!" exclaimed Juliana, again clapping her hands. "Oh! that is delightful. I have longed so much to see him."

"Moderate yourself, my love," said Mrs. Wyndham, who looked scarcely less pleased.

"You are his majesty's harbinger, I suppose?" said Lady Wyndham to Careless.

"Your ladyship is right," he replied. "I have attended the king ever since the great disaster at Worcester. Several attempts which he has made to escape to France, have been frustrated, and he has therefore resolved to abide a time when the vigilance of his enemies shall relax. With this design he has fixed upon Trent House as a retreat, feeling well assured that he has not a more devoted adherent than Colonel Francis Wyndham."

"His majesty has formed a just opinion of my son," said Lady Wyndham. "He will be quite safe under his roof."

"Women are not generally trusted with important secrets," observed Mrs. Wyndham. "But his majesty need fear no indiscretion on our part. Juliana is sometimes rather thoughtless, but she will now see the necessity of keeping strict guard upon her tongue."

"I have never yet had a secret confided to me," said the young lady in question; "but if everybody is as careful as I shall be his majesty won't be in much danger."

"I have already assured Major Careless that the servants can be relied upon," said Colonel Wyndham.

"Yes, they are all perfectly faithful and honest," said his wife. "But of course every precaution shall be observed."

"His majesty shall have my room," said Lady Wyndham. "I will describe it to you, Major Careless, and then you will judge of its fitness for the purpose. It is not in this part of the house, but is situated above the kitchen. It is reasonably large, and loftier than you would expect, because the ceiling is raised into the roof, and supported by oaken rafters. On either side are lattice windows which look into the garden and command the yard, so that his majesty would be made immediately aware of the arrival of any dangerous visitor. The room is wainscoted with old oak, and at one end is a secret closet in which the king could take refuge. But this is not all. A movable board within the closet affords access to a short, narrow staircase contrived in the wall, by means of which an outbuilding can be gained, and thus any search may be eluded. I must not omit to mention that in the principal room there is a small cupboard, concealed by a sliding panel, and in this cupboard wine and provisions may be stored. But you must see the room yourself. No other apartment in the house offers such facilities for concealment and flight."

"Your ladyship's description is so clear," said Careless, "that I need not see the room to decide that it is exactly suitable to the king's present requirements. My only concern is that you should be obliged to relinquish it."

"Poh! that is a mere trifle," exclaimed the loyal old dame. "I would give up all I possess to benefit his majesty. I shall easily find another room."

"You shall have mine, dear aunt," cried Juliana, eagerly.

"When is his majesty's arrival to be expected?" inquired Colonel Wyndham.

"He is staying at Abbots Leigh, near Bristol," replied Careless. "In all probability he will leave there to-morrow morning, attended by Mistress Jane Lane and Sir Clement Fisher, but he will not proceed beyond Castle Cary. Early on the following day he may be looked for here."

"All shall be ready for him," said Colonel Wyndham.

A long conversation then ensued, which it is not needful to report. The ladies had a number of questions to ask respecting the fatal fight at Worcester and the king's subsequent adventures, and while Careless gratified their natural curiosity, Colonel Wyndham left the room to give directions for the accommodation of his unexpected, though most welcome guest. Careless's auditors listened with the deepest interest to his vivid description of the king's hair-breadth 'scapes, but no one was so excited by the relation as Juliana Coningsby.

From the first moment when she beheld the king's faithful messenger, Juliana had been struck by his appearance, but when he recounted some stirring incident in which he himself, as well as his royal master, had taken part--when his eyes flashed, and the gloom that had hitherto hung upon his brow was dispersed--she thought him the handsomest man she had ever beheld, and began to feel an interest in him, such as she had never before experienced. She was still watching his animated countenance--still drinking in his accents--when Colonel Wyndham broke the charm--very unpleasantly to her--by coming in, and announcing that supper was ready. The party then adjourned to the dining-room, where a substantial repast awaited them.