Part 19

In the evening a council of war was held at the Mitre, but nothing was determined upon, except that a vigilant watch should be kept throughout the night, and a determined defence maintained on the morrow.

General Forster took very little part in the discussion, and complained bitterly that Brigadier Mackintosh had disobeyed his orders.

“I suppose it was through my fault, general, that the two large houses in Church Street were lost?” remarked the brigadier.

“Undoubtedly,” replied Forster.

“Well, then, I'll repair my fault,” said Mackintosh; “for as I'm a living man, I'll demolish them baith, or burn them to the ground to-morrow.”

“In defiance of my orders?” cried Forster.

“In defiance of anybody's orders,” rejoined Mackintosh.

“Let us have no disputes, I pray,” interposed Lord Widdrington. “We have every reason to be satisfied with the result of the day.”

“So confident am I of success,” said Mackintosh, “that I am about to write to the Earl of Mar that I expect to gain a victory over General Wills to-morrow. A battle is imminent between his lordship and the Duke of Argyle, and may possibly take place to-morrow. If so, and success should attend our arms both at Stirling and Preston, the Jacobite cause must be triumphant.”

“Heaven grant it may!” cried several voices.

After a little further discourse, the council broke up, some proceeding to an adjoining room where supper was laid out, and others returning to their posts.

Only three persons were left in the room. These were Lord Derwentwater, General Forster, and Captain Douglas.

The earl had told the others that he wished to confer with them.

“I trust all will go well to-morrow,” he said; “indeed, I do not doubt it. Still I feel the greatest anxiety respecting the countess.”

“I do not wonder at it, my lord,” remarked Forster. “I am just as anxious about my sister. Would we could get them both safely out of the town--but I fear it is impossible to do so now, since all the avenues are guarded.”

“I will insure their escape from the Fishergate barrier, of which I have the command,” said Captain Douglas.

“But the attempt must not be made before midnight. By crossing the ford, they will be able to gain the Liverpool road. Will the ladies be alone?”

“They will be attended by my chaplain, Father Nor-ham, and my butler, Newbiggin,” replied Lord Derwent' water. “I shall not send my grooms with them, unless General Forster desires it.”

“No, no!” cried Forster. “The fewer the better.”

“Of course, the party will be on horseback?” said Douglas. “I will conduct them to the ford--but there I must leave them.”

“That will suffice,” said the earl. “And I shall be eternally obliged to you for the service.”

“And so shall I,” said Forster.

“At midnight, then, I should be fully prepared,” said Douglas.

With this, he and Forster joined the others at supper in the next room, while Lord Derwentwater proceeded to the town-hall.

When they were informed of the arrangements made for their flight, the countess and Dorothy seemed dissatisfied rather than pleased, but the earl was quite resolved upon their departure.

“There is no telling what the morrow may bring forth,” he said. “And if fortune should prove adverse, I should bitterly reproach myself for allowing you to remain. Go you must.”

All arrangements having been made, Dorothy retired, and the earl and countess were left alone together.

For some minutes they both remained silent. The earl then spoke:

“I hope we may meet again at Dilston as in former days,” he said. “But I have great misgivings. Tomorrow will decide. We shall then either be victorious, or utterly defeated, and prisoners, for we are shut up in this town. In the latter event I well know what my fate will be, and I confess that I cannot shake off a dread presentiment that it will happen.”

“Do not thus be despondent, my dear lord,” said the countess. “To me everything seems to look well.”

“Not so,” he replied. “We have one great danger. Should General Carpenter arrive before we have beaten Wills, we are lost. Had a victory been gained to-day--as it might and would have been had we not been thwarted by Forster--all would have been well. But now we must trust to chance. I will not say that Forster has betrayed us, but he has been excessively indiscreet in confiding his secrets to Mrs. Scarisbrick.”

“Then you think Mrs. Scarisbrick has given secret intelligence to the enemy?”

“I am almost sure of it,” replied the earl. “But let us not trouble our parting with gloomy anticipations.”

They then endeavoured to talk cheerfully, but the effort was in vain, and it was almost a relief to both of them when Father Norham entered.

He had just heard from Dorothy of their proposed flight, and came to inquire further about it.

“Has your lordship any instructions to give me?” he said.

“None whatever,” replied the earl. “I know you will ever watch over the countess during my absence--and if aught happens, console her.”

“I will teach her how to bear her affliction,” replied the priest. “Perchance this may be your last interview,” he added, looking steadily at the countess. “Have you aught to communicate to your husband?”

“We have never had any secrets from each other, good father,” said the earl. “Is it not so, sweetheart?”

The countess made no reply.

A slight pause ensued, after which the earl said:

“Am I to understand you _have_ a secret from me?” Another pause ensued, which was broken by the countess.

“Tell him all, father,” she cried. “I cannot.”

“What is this?” exclaimed the earl, astonished, and looking at the priest for an explanation. “What have you to tell me?”

“Speak! daughter!” cried Father Norham, imperiously. “The secret must be told.”

“Keep me not in suspense!” cried the earl, looking at her.

“You will think me very deceitful when I tell you that my heart was not wholly yours when I wedded you,” she replied.

“Not wholly mine!” he exclaimed in a tone of suppressed fury. “Who then was my rival?”

“The prince,” she replied.

“The prince!” he exclaimed, with a sudden burst of rage. “Since he was capable of this perfidy, I renounce him--I throw off my allegiance--I will break the sword I have borne for him----”

“Hear me, my lord,” she cried, clinging to him.

“Away!” he exclaimed, casting her from him. “How fondly I have loved you, you well know, but now you are hateful to me. Never let me behold you more!”

“Hold! my lord,” interposed Father Norham, in a tone of authority which the earl could not resist. “There must be no misunderstanding between you and the countess. By my counsel she has made this confession to you, because the secret has long weighed upon her heart, and because you may never meet again in this world. Listen to me, my lord. The love conceived by the countess for the prince was simply an ardent feeling of loyalty, carried, perchance, to excess; but in no way culpable. If the prince's image was placed above your own in her breast, you need feel no jealousy. Nor can the prince be blamed, for word of love never passed his lips--nor was he aware of the passion he inspired.”

“Is this so?” cried the earl.

“It is so,” she replied. “I ought to have told you all this long ago--but hesitated from a silly fear, till my heart had become so burdened that I dared not speak. But now I felt that the confession must not be delayed, or it might never be made. Can you forgive me?”

“Come to my heart!” he cried, straining her to his breast.

IX.--THE FORD.

|Midnight had come.

Very dark was the night, and favourable to the purpose of those who sought to fly from the beleaguered town. The fires in the burning houses were nearly extinguished, but the course of the conflagration could still be traced by a red glow along the street.

The two large houses, now in the hands of the king's forces, were no longer illuminated, but looked sombre and threatening--the approaches to them in front and at the rear being strongly guarded.

The church-tower could be indistinctly seen in the gloom, and a close survey of the churchyard would have shown that it was filled with troops who were resting on their arms, to be ready for action at break of day.

The barrier in this quarter was strongly guarded by the Highlanders, many of whom were lying on their plaids beside the trenches while their comrades kept watch.

Throughout the town it was the same thing.

At the Windmill battery, where Wynn's and Pitt's regiments were posted, so as completely to block up the Lancaster-road, and prevent all chance of escape in that direction, the brave Clan Chattan were gathered--most of them lying on the ground, but ready to spring to their feet on the slightest alarm.

The barrier commanded by Lord Charles Murray was likewise strongly guarded, and by a vigilant force--this being a position exposed to much peril.

As to the Fishergate barricade, it was better watched by the defenders than by the enemy.

Strange to say, the outlet connected with this battery, and which led to a lane communicating with a ford over the Ribble, was not blocked up like the other avenues.

Three squadrons of horse belonging to Brigadier Pitt were posted at intervals in the fields on the north side of the river--Pitt's own quarters being fixed at a large farmhouse on the rise of the hill--but the lane we have mentioned had been left unguarded.

This unaccountable piece of negligence had been accidentally discovered by Captain Douglas, while reconnoitring the road. Still, he had not ventured more than a quarter of a mile.

Midnight had just tolled, and the besieged town presented the appearance we have endeavoured to describe, when the Countess of Derwentwater embraced her lord, and with his aid mounted the steed that was waiting for her outside the Fishergate barrier.

“Farewell, my best beloved!” cried the earl. “Farewell! it may be for ever. To-morrow will decide my fate. Should the worst happen, be sure my last thought will be of you.”

“Farewell, my dearest lord!” she cried. “I will not say for ever! for I am certain we shall meet again!”

Dorothy was already on horseback, and beside her was Charles Radclyffe, who was resolved to see them safely across the ford.

We have already mentioned that since Dorothy's arrival in Preston, Charles had fallen desperately in love with her; but, owing to circumstances, they had been little together, and now they were compelled to part. However, they did not despair of an early meeting.

In attendance on the ladies were Father Norham and Newbiggin, both of whom were well mounted.

As the conductor of the party, Captain Douglas rode a little in advance--but the countess was not far behind him.

Almost instantly the party disappeared in the gloom, and then the earl listened intently for any sounds that might tell how they got on; but nothing to occasion alarm being heard, after waiting for a few minutes, he retired--though with a sad heart.

Meanwhile, the party proceeded in the order described, and in silence. If a word was exchanged by Charles Radclyffe, it reached no other ears but their own.

No interruption was offered as they rode down the narrow lane, and even a gate that led to a field skirting the river seemed left purposely open.

Here Captain Douglas rode alone to reconnoitre, but returned almost immediately to say that the way was clear.

During his brief absence, the countess cast a look back at the hill, and could just distinguish the dark outline of the town. Here and there, it could be seen from the reflection that a house was still burning.

As they advanced, a slight glimmer showed that the river was close at hand.

Before descending the bank, Captain Douglas took hold of the countess's bridle, and then led her horse cautiously into the water.

His example was followed by Charles Radclyffe, and the two ladies were soon crossing the ford.

Evidently the river was not very deep at this point, and there seemed nothing to occasion uneasiness, when the figure of a man armed with a musket could be suddenly descried on the opposite bank.

As will be surmised, this was no other than Parson Woods of Chowbent, who had undertaken to watch the ford.

“Stop!” he shouted in a loud voice, “you cannot pass here. Attempt to advance further, and I shall fire upon you.”

“Look to yourself, friend,” rejoined Captain Douglas. “Retire at once, or I will send a bullet through your head.”

And drawing a pistol, he prepared to execute his threat.

“Hold!” said the countess. “He will let us pass, when he knows we are ladies.”

“I don't know that,” said Parson Woods. “Who are you?”

“Make way for the Countess of Derwentwater and Miss Forster,” cried Captain Douglas, thinking to overawe him.

Precisely the contrary effect was produced.

No sooner did Parson Woods hear those important names than he called to his men who were concealed by the bank behind him:

“Arise, and follow me! Heaven has delivered into our hands the wife and sister of the principal rebels! Come with me, I say, that we may prevent the flight of the Countess of Derwentwater and Miss Forster.”

So saying, he dashed into the river, followed by his men, and though Captain Douglas fired at him, he was not harmed, but seized the countess's bridle, and detained her; while Dorothy was captured in like manner by some of his men, despite Charles Radclyffe's resistance.

What might have ensued it is impossible to say, since Captain Douglas and his companion were compelled to beat a hasty retreat by the sudden appearance of a party of Pitt's dragoons.

Father Norham and Newbiggin offered no resistance, and were captured with the ladies.

X.--BY WHOM THE COUNTESS AND DOROTHY WERE LIBERATED.

|The leader of the troop seemed an important personage, since he was treated with marked deference by Parson Woods. After putting a few questions in an undertone to the minister, he turned to the ladies, and said:

“Am I to understand that I am addressing Lady Derwent water and Miss Forster?”

“You are, sir,” replied the countess. “And if you are satisfied on the point, I presume we shall not be detained?”

The officer made no direct reply, but said rather bluntly:

“Who are these persons with you?”

“One is Lord Derwentwater's chaplain,” replied the countess. “The other is a private servant.”

“Your ladyship must excuse me if I appear inquisitive, but I am obliged to ask where you are going?” said the officer. “Moreover, I must request a precise answer to the inquiry.”

“It is not my habit to equivocate, sir,” replied she. “My destination is Dilston, and if we are allowed to proceed, Miss Forster will accompany me.”

“I presume your ladyship thinks Preston unsafe, or you would not quit it in this manner?” remarked the officer.

Lady Derwentwater made no reply.

“That question ought not to have been put,” said

Dorothy. “We are not called upon to explain the cause of our departure.”

“But when General Forster's sister flies, it may be presumed that the place is not likely to hold out long,” remarked the officer.

“You may draw any inference you please,” rejoined Dorothy. “My own opinion is that General Wills will be driven away to-morrow. He has certainly had the worst of it to-day.”

“Then you will have an opportunity of witnessing his defeat,” said the officer; “for I propose to send you back to the town. Parson Woods,” he added to the minister, “since you have made this important capture, you shall conduct the ladies to the Fishergate avenue. I will send a party of horse to sustain you.”

“I don't require support, general,” said the minister.

“General!” exclaimed the countess. “Is it possible we are speaking to General Wills?”

“Has your ladyship only just made that discovery?” cried Parson Woods, laughing.

“I suspected it from the first,” observed Dorothy.

“You can tell your brother, the general, that you have had a conference with me,” said Wills; “and that you told me to my face that I should be defeated on the morrow.”

“I told you the truth, general, however disagreeable it may be to hear it,” said Dorothy.

“Well, time will show,” rejoined Wills; “but I rather think that before to-morrow night General Forster will have surrendered, and in that event the Earl of Derwentwater will be given up as a hostage.”

Just then a horseman, who proved to be Sir Henry Hoghton, rode up, having with him a lady on horseback.

“I am glad I have found you, general,” said Sir Henry. “This lady has something important to communicate to you.”

“Pray come this way, madam,” said Wills, taking the lady aside.

Thereupon, a whispered conversation took place between them.

“I know that voice,” observed the countess to Dorothy. “But surely it cannot be----

“It is Mrs. Scarisbrick,” was the reply in a low tone. “I always thought she played my brother false. Now we have positive proof of it. She has come to give information respecting the state of the town.”

Dorothy was quite right in the conjecture.

When the conference between Wills and Mrs. Scarisbrick was ended, and the lady found that the countess and Dorothy were close at hand, she became very uneasy, and begged General Wills to set them free.

“If they go back, I cannot,” she observed. “They will tell General Forster they have seen me here, and what explanation can I give him?”

“It matters little now what explanation is given,” replied Wills. “But you shall not be exposed to any annoyance. You must be on the spot. To-morrow, you are certain to have important information to give me.”

“I will not fail,” she replied.

General Wills then called to Sir Henry, and after consigning Mrs. Scarisbrick to his care turned to Parson Woods, who was waiting for final orders, and said:

“I have altered my plans, parson. Take Lady Der-wentwater and Miss Forster with their attendants across the river, and then set them free.”

“It shall be done, general,” replied Woods, with a military salute. “Be pleased to follow me, ladies.”

He was not quite so civil to Father Norham and New-biggin.

“I hope we are not liberated at that lady's request,” said the countess. “I would not willingly be under any obligation to her.”

“You need not be uneasy,” said Wills. “You are under no obligation to any one but me. Good-night, ladies. I wish you a safe journey to Dilston. When I tell you that General Carpenter will be here with two thousand men to-morrow, you may be glad to be out of the way.”

He rode off, while the ladies and their companions were taken across the ford by Parson Woods, and then liberated.

XI.--AN UNLUCKY SHOT.

|After their unsuccessful attempt to cross the ford, Charles Radclyffe and Captain Douglas did not return to the town, but concealed themselves among some trees till they had ascertained that the countess and Dorothy were to be liberated. They then went back tolerably well satisfied with the issue of the adventure.

As they were riding slowly up the lane leading to the Fishergate avenue, they caught the sound of horses' feet behind them, and stopped to listen.

It was so dark that nothing could be seen distinctly, but they heard voices, and Captain Douglas drew a pistol and called out, “Who goes there?”

“A friend,” replied a voice.

“To whom?” demanded Douglas. “To King James, or King George.”

“I am no rebel,” replied the person who had spoken. “But it seems you are, and I am therefore bound to make you a prisoner. It will be useless to resist, for I have a dozen men with me.”

“I would not yield if you had twice the number,” rejoined Douglas. “Advance a step further, and I will shoot you.”

“Let him go, Sir Henry,” cried a female voice.

“'Tis Sir Henry Hoghton,” said Charles Radclyffe.

“So it seems,” said Douglas. “Come, Sir Henry,” he cried. “'Tis for you to yield--not me.”

“This is my answer,” replied Sir Henry, firing at him, but without effect.

“And this my rejoinder,” cried Douglas, firing in his turn.

A shriek followed.

“What have I done?” cried Douglas.

“Wounded a lady,” replied Sir Henry. “Are you much hurt, madam?” he asked.

“Mortally, I fear,” she replied, in a faint voice. “Support me, or I shall fall from my horse.”

“'Tis Mrs. Scarisbrick!” cried Charles Radclyffe.

END OF BOOK EIGHT

_BOOK THE NINTH_

I.--HOW A PARTY OF DRAGOONS WAS ROUTED BY CAPTAIN GORDON.

|As soon as it began to grow light next morning, Captain Gordon mounted the church-tower to survey the town.

All seemed quiet--besieged and defenders. The Highlanders were still lying stretched on their plaids near the barricade; but the greater part of the troops, who did not possess the hardihood of the Scots, had quitted the churchyard, and sought shelter in some of the adjacent houses.

No signs of movement were visible in the two large houses in possession of the enemy; but the sentinels were at their posts, and no doubt the men could be summoned instantly to arms.

The street presented a ghastly sight--the dead not having been removed, and the ground being covered with blood.

Turning from this painful spectacle he surveyed the fields outside the town, but could not perceive that any change had been made in the disposition of the enemy.

A mist arose from the marshy ground in the neighbourhood of the river, and partially concealed the militia stationed near the bridge, but the two squadrons of Pitt's dragoons could be distinguished in the fields.

Whatever might be the design of the enemy, it seemed to Captain Gordon that no immediate attack was intended.

But while he continued his survey, and carefully reconnoitred the outskirts of the town, he perceived some dismounted dragoons creeping along the Wigan lane towards the town.

Watching them carefully for a few minutes, during which it got lighter, he found their numbers increase, and became convinced that they were the head of a large party.

He therefore quickly descended from the tower, and gave the alarm to Brigadier Mackintosh, whom he found at his post, and who ordered him to proceed at once to the Fishergate barrier--the only outlet not blocked up--and take a troop of horse and attack them.

Captain Gordon instantly obeyed--nor was he detained at the barrier in question.

Fifty stout Borderers, who were sleeping beside their steeds, bridle in hand, were quickly in the saddle. A horse was found for him, and the party sallied forth.

The Wigan lane was about a quarter of a mile off, and to reach it they had to cross the field on the south side of the town. They got there just as the dragoons had quitted the lane, but had not formed, and immediately charged them--throwing them into confusion by the suddenness of the attack.

The conflict only lasted for a few minutes, and ended in the complete rout of the dragoons, several of whom were killed, including the captain. Very little loss was sustained by the insurgents.

Quite surprised with what he had done, and fearing his retreat might be cut off if he attempted pursuit, Captain Gordon galloped back as hard as he could to the Fishergate avenue.

He was only just in time. The encounter had been witnessed by the two squadrons of Pitt's dragoons stationed near the river, and they both endeavoured to intercept him, but he and the Borderers were safe behind the barriers before either could come up.

Captain Gordon gained great credit by this achievement, which was one of the last performed by the insurgents.

II. MEETING OF CARPENTER AND WILLS.

|Preparations were made by the insurgent leaders at all the barricades for a renewal of hostilities, and Brigadier Mackintosh had just given orders to Tom Syddall to commence the demolition of the two large houses in Church-street, when word was brought that a very large force, consisting of more than two thousand horse, could be seen approaching from the north.

No doubt could be entertained that this force belonged to General Carpenter, who must have made an early march from Clitheroe in order to effect a junction with Wills before the attack was resumed.