CHAPTER XXII.

HOW THEY DINED AT THE GEORGE AT MERE; AND HOW THE HOST RELATED HIS DREAM.

On arriving at Mere, they alighted at the George, which turned out quite as comfortable as it had been represented. Dick Cheverel, the host, a stout, good-humoured personage, sat at the head of the table, chatting with them very cheerfully.

The king took a place near the bottom of the table, but Juliana sat beside the host, who was very attentive to her. During a pause, Colonel Wyndham inquired of Cheverel if he had any news?

"Little that I care to relate," replied Dick. "Since the disaster at Worcester, I have heard nothing that gives me satisfaction. Fifteen hundred men have been shipped to Jersey and Guernsey to subjugate those faithful islands, but I am told that the men of Westminster are in great perplexity, for they cannot conceive what has become of the king.

"Most likely his majesty is in London and in disguise," remarked Colonel Philips.

"That is the general opinion, but it is not mine," said Dick. "Several houses, I understand, have been searched; but the searchers were not likely to find him."

"Why do you feel so confident on the point?" asked Juliana.

"Because I firmly believe he is in France," replied Dick. "At the very moment we are now talking of him, I am persuaded he is at the great palace of the Louvre, seated between his mother, Henrietta Maria, Queen of England, and his royal brother the Duke of York."

"Would to heaven it were true!" exclaimed Juliana.

"It must be true, for I have dreamed it thrice," said Dick.

"Is that all your authority?" cried Juliana, smiling.

"What better authority would you have, fair mistress?" he rejoined. "I'll tell you a singular thing. A rebel officer who fought at Worcester came to the George the day before yesterday, and said to me, 'I've had a remarkable dream, landlord, and it quite haunts me. I've dreamt that Charles Stuart is concealed in a house at Trent, in Somerset. I should know the house,' he continued, 'for it has a great patch of trees near it.'"

"That was very odd!" exclaimed Juliana.

"So I told him, and the idiot might have gone to Trent, if I had not recounted my thrice-repeated dream to him. When he had heard my relation he gave up all intention of searching for the king."

Everybody laughed, but the host maintained a grave face.

"You are a sly fellow, Dick," exclaimed Colonel Wyndham.

When his services were no longer required at the upper end of the table, the host came and sat down by the king. Filling a couple of glasses to the brim with sack, he said:

"Are you a friend to Cæsar?"

"Ay, that I am," replied Charles. "As much Cæsar's friend as thou art."

"Then here's a health to King Charles!" cried the loyal host, rising as he spoke. "If his majesty is not on the other side of the water, and safe from his enemies, let us hope he soon will be!"

The toast was enthusiastically drunk by all the gentlemen present, who rose at the bidding of the host.

Shortly afterwards the party again rose, but this time it was to take their departure, for though the wine was very good they could not make a long sitting.

After assisting Juliana to her seat on the pillion, Dick said to the king, in a low voice:

"Forgive me, sire, if I have presumed too much. I knew you from the first, and could not repress my feelings. May my dream soon become a reality!"

While riding out of Mere, they gazed at the fine old church with its lofty tower, at the ancient market-house, and at the lofty mound on which were some vestiges of a castle, built in the reign of Henry III. When they had quitted the little town, the most striking object was a precipitous hill, about two miles distant, known as Whitesheet Camp.

After crossing a wild and bleak waste full of earthworks, they reached Hindon, and then passed over downs, guarded by hills crowned by camps through Chilmark and Great Teffont, and through the old forest of Grovely, to Wishford.

From Grovely Hill, on which are the remains of an ancient British town, they obtained a fine view of Salisbury Plain, with the lofty spire of the cathedral in the distance. Evening was coming on as they took their way across part of the plain, and the numerous barrows near which they rode, tinged by the radiance of the declining sun, had a very striking effect. But as soon as the sun had set, the picture became cold and grey, awakening a train of melancholy thoughts. The air, likewise, began to feel cold, so they quickened their pace, and soon afterwards arrived at their destination.