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Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 34. A Vain Appeal |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. A VAIN APPEAL That same night, an officer was sent with a flag of truce to the Hall, and bearing a summons to surrender. To his intense delight at first, and intense sorrow afterwards, Fred found that it was to be his duty to bear the flag and the message to the officer in command of the little garrison. He received his instructions and a despatch to Sir Godfrey Markham, and carrying a small white flag, and preceded by a trumpeter, he rode slowly through the evening mist, which was rising from the lake and the low meadows down by the stream, till he reached the path leading up to the Hall garden, where he stopped short, gave the order, and the man blew a cheery call, which echoed and re-echoed from the red stone walls. Then, riding forward with his white flag well displayed, he advanced boldly to the front of the barricaded porch. For a few minutes he sat there gazing up at the front, and wondering that no heed was paid to his coming. So still was everything, that it seemed as if the Hall had been deserted, till, happening to glance to his left, he caught sight of a dark eye at one of the windows, and directly after he realised that this eye was glancing along a heavy piece, the owner taking careful aim at him as if about to fire. It was impossible under the circumstances to avoid a feeling of trepidation; but second thoughts came to whisper to him as it were-- "You are under a flag of truce--an ambassador, and sacred." "But he might be ignorant, and fire," thought Fred, as he glanced to his right, where, to his horror, he saw a second man taking aim at him, and apparently only waiting the word. Fred's first thought was that he ought to clap spurs to his horse, wheel round suddenly so as to disorder the men's aim, and gallop back for his life. "And then," he said to himself, "how should I dare face the general and my father?" Drawing a long breath, he sat firm, and then fighting hard to keep down his trepidation, he turned his head, and called to his follower, bidding him summon the garrison once more. The man raised his trumpet to his lips, and blew another call, falling back again at a sign from the flag-bearer, and though he would not show that he knew of their presence, a glance to right and left told Fred that the two men were taking aim at him still. "They dare not fire. They dare not!" he said to himself, as he sat fast; and directly after a group of showily dressed Cavaliers appeared at the large open window above the broad porch. He could see that Sir Godfrey Markham was in the centre, with a tall fair man with a pointed beard on one side, a grey dark man on the other, and half behind him stood Scarlett, with some dozen more. "Well, sir," said Sir Godfrey, sternly, and speaking as if he had never seen the messenger before, "what is your business?" "I am the bearer of a despatch, sir," replied Fred, "for the chief officer here." "That will be you, sir," said Sir Godfrey to the gentleman on his right. "Well, boy, pass the letter here." "How, sir?" "Put it on the point of your pike, and pass it up." Fred did as he was bidden, and sticking the folded missive on the point of the pike which carried the white flag, he held it up, and it was taken. "You had better retire while it is read," said Sir Godfrey, contemptuously. "I see there are two of our men paying attention to you. Rein back, if you are afraid." It was a hard struggle, for with those two fierce-looking troopers watching him along the barrels of their pieces, Fred's inclination was still to turn and gallop away as fast as his horse would go. But at that moment he raised his eyes, and could see that Scarlett was looking down at him, as if to watch the effect of Sir Godfrey's words. This look seemed to stiffen him, and he sat perfectly erect upon his horse, with the pike-shaft resting upon his toe, as he told himself that he hoped if the men fired they would miss; that before he would run away, with Scar Markham to laugh at his flight, they might riddle him with bullets through and through. "Well, sir," said Sir Godfrey, half mockingly, "are you going to retire?" "I am under a flag of truce, Sir Godfrey," said Fred, quietly. "I thought the Royalist party were gentlemen, and knew the meaning of such a sign." "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the tall Cavalier by the general's side. "That's a good sharp retort for you, Markham. Well done, youngster! Don't be afraid." "I am not," said Fred, stoutly; but at the same time he said to himself, "Oh, what a horrible lie, when I'm all of a cold shiver." "I didn't quite mean afraid," said the tall officer, laughing, "I meant to say that no one here shall harm you, my young ambassador. But look here, how comes it that you, who are evidently a gentleman, are taking sides with that beggarly scum of tatterdemalions who have taken up arms against their sovereign?" "Look here, sir," said Fred, "is this meant for flattery or insult?" "Neither one nor the other, young ferocity," said the Cavalier, laughing. "But don't look like that; you alarm me. Here, young Markham, you had better come and deal with this pernicious enemy; he is too much for me." But Scarlett did not move, and Fred drew a deep breath, as he prepared for the next verbal encounter, for the fair Cavalier was leaning carelessly out of the window, and looking down at him till, as if fascinated by his look, and after a long struggle to keep his gaze fixed on the stonework upon a level with his nose, Fred raised his eyes, and found that the Cavalier was regarding him with a pleasant, friendly smile. "I did not mean to affront you," he said; "I only thought it a pity that such a stout lad as you should be on the opposite side." "Thank you," said Fred, haughtily. "I suppose we are enemies, are we not!" Fred nodded. "And next time we meet you will be trying to send the point of your sword through me, or to ride me down, eh?" "I suppose I shall try," said Fred, smiling in spite of himself, and showing his white teeth. "Ah, it's a pity. You're going wrong way, young man. Better come in here, and fight for the king." "Better stand up manfully for my own side, and not be a traitor," retorted Fred, hotly. "How dare you, standing there in safety, keep on this wretched temptation?" "Wounds and wonder!" cried the Cavalier, "what a fire-eater it is. Here, I don't wonder that we are shut up helplessly here. I say, Roundhead, will you have a glass of wine?" "Keep your wine," said Fred. "I've come on business, not to talk and drink." At that moment, Sir Godfrey spoke to those about him, drawing back from the window, and the conversational Cavalier followed, leaving Fred sitting stiff and fretful, with all his moral quills set up, the more full of offence that he believed Scarlett was still watching him. As he sat there, assuming the most utter indifference, and gazing with a solidity that was statuesque straight before him, he could hear a loud buzzing of voices, following the firm deep tones of Sir Godfrey Markham, who had evidently been laying the contents of the message before his companion. "Will they surrender?" thought Fred. "I hope they will. They are debating the question. It would be a relief; and Scarlett Markham and I--no, Scar and I," he said, mentally correcting himself--"might perhaps be together again. If he would promise not to take up arms, I dare say my father and General Hedley would let him off from being a prisoner if I asked, and he could go with me to where poor Nat lies out in the wood, and look after him." "Huzza! God save the king!" The shout and words came so suddenly that the little horse Fred rode started and reared, and he was in the act of quieting it down, feeling the while that his ambassage had been in vain, when the party defending the Hall reappeared at the window. "Youngster!" began Sir Godfrey, in a stern deep voice which annoyed Fred. "When he knows me as well as he does his own son!" "Ride back, and tell your leaders that I have laid the contents of their letter before the gallant gentlemen who are my companions here." There was a buzz, and an attempt at cheering, which ceased as Sir Godfrey went on. "They all join heart and soul with me in the determination to hold my home here in the name of his majesty the king, so long as there is a roof above us and a piece of wall to act as shelter, to help us keep your rascally rebellious cut-throats out of the place." Fred felt all of a tingle, and his eyes flamed as he gazed up defiantly at the speaker. "Tell your leaders that if they will at once lay down their arms and return to their homes, they shall be allowed to do so in peace." "Huzza!" came from within. "But if they still keep in arms against his majesty, they must expect no mercy. Once more. Tell your leaders that we treat their proposal with the contempt it deserves." "As we shall treat your silly proposition, sir," said Fred, quite losing his temper at being made the bearer of such an absurd defiance from a little knot of men, completely surrounded as they were. "Am I to fully understand that you are obstinate enough to say you will hold out?" "Look here, insolent boy," said Sir Godfrey, sternly, "you are safe-- your character of messenger makes you so--but if you stay where you are in front of this my doorstep another five minutes, one of the men shall beat you away with a staff. Go!" Fred turned white, then red, and he felt the bitterness of the general's words the more keenly from having forgotten himself and departed from his neutral position of messenger to speak as he had. He wanted to say something angry that should show Sir Godfrey and his companions, and above all, Scarlett, that he was obliged to go, but that it was on account of his duty, and not that he feared the man with the staff. But suitable words would not come, and, bubbling over with impotent wrath and annoyance, he touched his horse's flanks with the spurs, turned as slowly and deliberately as he could, and began to move away, but only to face round fiercely as the tall Cavalier at the window said banteringly-- "Good-bye, young game-cock." There was a roar of laughter from the careless party looking on. "You coward!" "Not I, my lad," came back in cheery tones. "I was only joking. Good-bye, and good luck go with you, though you are a Roundhead. Think better of it; let your hair grow, and then come and ask for Harry Grey. I shall have a regiment again some day, and I shall be proud to have you at my side." The words were so frankly and honestly said that Fred's eyes brightened, and passing the pike-shaft into his bridle hand, he raised his steel cap to the Cavalier, replaced it, and rode off, while the Royalist officer turned to Scarlett. "As frank and sturdy a boy as I have ever met, excepting you, Scarlett Markham, of course," he added, as merrily as if there were no danger near. "Yes, he's as true as steel," said Scarlett, flushing. "He always was." "You know him?" "It's Fred Forrester, Colonel Forrester's son, from the Manor. We were companions till the war broke out." "Three cheers for bonnie Coombeland and its boys," said the Cavalier. "Why, Scarlett, my lad, we shall have to get him away from these wretched rebels. Can't it be done?" "No," said Scarlett, gravely. "Fred is too staunch and true." And staunchly enough, Fred, with his trumpeter behind, was riding back to camp with his message, which he delivered to General Hedley and his father. There was a pause after he had done, and the general sat gazing straight before him. "Well, Forrester," he said at last, "I have done my duty so far, and I must go on. We cannot leave this little nest of hornets in our rear to act as a point to which other insects will gather for the destruction of those who are fighting for their homes. It is of no use to give them time." "No," said Colonel Forrester, sternly. "I agree with you. They must fall, or be taken to a man." "And their blood be upon their own heads." "Amen," said Colonel Forrester, in a deep voice; and as Fred glanced at him he saw that he was very pale, while a cold chill of dread ran through the lad's veins as, in imagination, he seemed to see stout, handsome Sir Godfrey Markham borne down by numbers, with Scarlett making frantic efforts to save him; and then all seemed to be dark--a darkness which hung over his spirit, so that he led his horse mechanically to the improvised stabling beneath the trees, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, till a voice said-- "No, no, Master Fred, I'll see to your horse;" and he turned and found Samson there, and this set him thinking about poor Nat lying helpless in the wood. _ |
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