CHAPTER XIII.

HOW CHARLES SET OUT FOR CHARMOUTH.

The day had arrived when it was hoped that his majesty's deliverance would be accomplished.

After taking leave of Lady Wyndham and her daughter-in-law, Charles mounted his horse, and Juliana, half-crazed with delight, seated herself on the pillion behind him. Colonel Wyndham and Careless were already in the saddle, and attended by the prayers of Mr. Langton, and by the good wishes of all who witnessed their departure, the party set out on their journey. Harry Peters had been sent off beforehand privately, in the hope that the king might be mistaken for him by Mr. Meldrum, should the minister be on the look-out; but the faithful groom joined the party about a mile from the village, and subsequently acted as guide, as they intended to take some cross roads.

Brilliant sunshine cheered them on their way, and brought out the best features of the richly-wooded district through which they journeyed--giving new splendour to the glorious autumnal tints of the foliage, and revealing scenes of rare sylvan beauty. Nothing could have been pleasanter than the ride. Sometimes involved in a thick wood--sometimes pursuing their course on the banks of a clear and beautiful stream--sometimes passing a village remarkable for a noble old church--anon tracking a long valley, hemmed in by lofty hills--now called upon to admire a fine old mansion, situated in the midst of an extensive park--now skirting a lovely lake--anon compelled to quit the valley, and climb a hill which seemed to bar further progress, but which, when its summit was gained, offered a magnificent prospect--through such varied scenes they proceeded pleasantly on their way.

At first, they pursued the same road they had taken on the occasion of the king's visit to Melbury Park, passing by the foot of Babylon Hill, and tracking the valley of the Yeo; but they then struck off on the right, and proceeded towards Berwick and Sutton Bingham. Avoiding the latter village, they entered a thick wood, through which they were guided by Harry Peters, and on emerging from it skirted Abbots Hill, and crossing two other eminences, came upon a very picturesque district, having a beautiful woody knoll on the right, and a succession of wild holts on the left.

Leaving these woodlands, they passed through a gap in the hills, and shortly afterwards descended into a richly-cultivated and well-watered vale--their road leading them past numerous farm-houses, each possessing a large orchard. Before them the two bold eminences, Lewesdon Hill and Pillesdon Pen, reared their lofty heads, and seemed to bar their further progress. Distinguishable far out at sea, and forming excellent landmarks, these twin heights, from their resemblance to each other, are called by sailors "the Cow and the Calf." Further on the right was a third remarkable eminence, equally striking in character, and known as Blackdown Hill.

The road taken by the party led them over Pillesdon Pen, and the view from its summit of the towering hill was superb, comprehending the rich vale they had just traversed, with its meadows, orchards, and farms, and the beautiful combes and downs on either side. They then descended into the valley, in which stood Pillesdon, the residence of Sir Hugh Wyndham, the colonel's uncle, but they did not go near the mansion.

Shortly afterwards they mounted another lofty eminence, on the summit of which was a large and very perfect British encampment, known as Lambert's Castle. Hence a magnificent view of the sea was commanded.

Aware of what he might expect, Charles rode on in advance of his companions, and when he had reached Lambert's Castle, and the grand view burst upon him, he looked neither to the right nor to the left, but at the sea.

Yes, there it was at last! There was the sea! Deliverance was at hand! A few hours more, and he should be wafted across that broad expanse to the friendly shore.

So enchanted was he by the sight that he gave vent to his rapture in a joyous shout. Juliana was almost equally excited.

"By this time to-morrow your majesty will be safe in France," she cried.

"I must not be too confident. The wind is fair now--but it may change. I have had so many disappointments, that I cannot feel quite secure."

"Nothing is certain, sire--at least, wise people say so. But it seems to me that the chances are a thousand to one in favour of your majesty's safe embarkation to-night, and therefore you may calculate on arriving at St. Malo to-morrow. The sea itself seems to smile upon you, and promise you a fair passage."

"Smiles are sometimes treacherous, and promises are often broken," said Charles. "But I will gladly trust myself to those bright waves."

At this moment Colonel Wyndham and the others rode up.

"There is a sight to gladden your heart, sire," exclaimed the colonel.

"Ay, 'tis the pleasantest prospect I have beheld for many a day, Frank. Yet my satisfaction at the hope of immediate escape is not unalloyed. I go into exile. I leave my friends behind me."

"Your exile will not be long, sire," rejoined the colonel. "Your friends will soon have you back again."

"Heaven alone can tell when I shall return--and how I shall return," rejoined the king. "But return I will."

"You will return to ascend the throne," said Juliana.

"I accept the prediction," said Charles. "Coming from such fair lips it cannot be falsified."

Riding down the south side of the hill, they shaped their course towards the solitary farm-house, appointed as a place of rendezvous by Captain Ellesdon.

Being now on the open downs, they could no doubt be seen from a distance, for a horseman was descried galloping towards them. At first, the king thought it must be Captain Ellesdon, but as the horseman drew nearer, his majesty easily recognised Lord Wilmot, who had appointed to meet him at this place, and had been waiting for him for some time.

A very affectionate greeting took place between the king and his friend, and the latter, after briefly recounting his adventures since they separated, gave his majesty many particulars respecting his devoted partisans. The intelligence that most deeply interested Charles related to the Earl of Derby, who, it appeared, was now a prisoner in Chester Castle, and had been condemned to lose his head. Lord Wilmot himself had been in great danger, but had contrived to escape capture.

This conference lasted for some time, and the king had been so deeply engrossed by Lord Wilmot's narration, that he quite forgot the presence of Juliana, who had listened to the recital in terror.

When Lord Wilmot had finished his sad tidings, Charles remained for some minutes lost in painful reflection, and during this time no one ventured to disturb him. At length, a slight movement on the part of Juliana recalled him to himself. Starting as if aroused from a painful dream, he rode on towards the farm-house, which was only a mile distant.

Captain Ellesdon had been for some hours at the place of rendezvous, and, made aware of the approach of the royal party, stationed himself at the gate to receive the king.