CHAPTER I
THE OUTBREAK OF CIVIL WAR
WELL shall I ever remember the last day of August in the year of grace 1642. The shadow of war, and civil war to boot, lay heavily over the length and breadth of the kingdom, and the usually peaceful Isle of Wight was no exception to the rule.
It was owing to this fact that I, Humphrey Markham, was compelled to remain at school during the holidays instead of spending them, as was my wont, at my father's castle of Ashley, which lies betwixt the borders of Hamptonshire and Sussex, hard by the town of Petersfield.
The call of duty had obliged my father to travel northward to attend on the King's person, so that, much to my disappointment, I was compelled to forego one of my twice-yearly visits to my home.
Yet, fortunately for me, I was not alone in my "exile," as I was tempted to call it. My closest companion, Ralph Granville, a nephew of the staunch Royalist, Sir Bevil Granville, of the Duchy of Cornwall, also remained at school for similar reasons, as did a score or more of other scholars, and, thanks to the kindness of the dominie, we were permitted a considerable amount of freedom, the only condition being that we should be within gates every night ere sundown.
On that fateful day, Granville and I had left Newport early in the morning, and had wandered far over the country towards the frowning heights of St. Catherine's Down, and already the afternoon had far advanced ere we gained the summit of Pan Down, a lofty ridge of chalk that overlooks the capital of the Isle of Wight on its southern side.
Before us lay the town of Newport, the golden rays of the setting sun falling athwart the yellow sandstone of the tower of St. Thomas' Church, and the red-tiled roofs that clustered densely around the dominating edifice. Beyond we could trace the narrow, thread-like estuary of the Medina, as it carved its way between the low hills to join the blue waters of the Solent; while, on the far side, we could see the dim outlines of the Hamptonshire coast, separated by the broad expanse of Southampton Water, the tree-clad masses of the New Forest contrasting vividly with the eastern portion of the bare ridge of Portsdown.
Away on our left rose the stern, grey outlines of Carisbrooke Castle, the Royal banner hanging limply in the still air from the flagstaff on the summit of the keep.
"Dost think these rebellious knaves will fight?" asked Ralph.
"Fight? Nay," I replied. "A slight bickering here and there, and all signs of defiance to His Majesty will be stamped out with a heavy hand."
"I don't know about that. Some of the adherents of the Parliament seem to be made of stern stuff. For my part, I think there will be fighting, and much of it."
"And what of it? The King has but to raise his hand, and loyal gentlemen from all parts of the kingdom will flock to his banner, even as my father has already done."
"What will you do if war breaks out?"
"Do? Why, make my way over to Hamptonshire find out where my father is, and join him."
"But, Humphrey, you are only fifteen! What can a lad of fifteen do?"
"A lot when he makes up his mind," I replied, stoutly. "Besides, I am as tall and as strong as many a lad of nineteen."
"Be that as it may, we must look to the present," rejoined Granville. "'Tis nearly sunset, and, if we want to ramble afield to-morrow, it behoves us to hurry back to-night, for the dominie will surely forbid us leave if we are late in returning. Ah! What's that?"
We were already stepping briskly down the grassy slope, when a dull booming reached our ears. Instinctively we paused, and, looking in the direction of the sound, which continued without intermission, we saw a thick, white cloud of smoke rising in the direction of Portsmouth.
"A salute!" exclaimed Granville.
"A salute, forsooth!" I replied, contemptuously. "'Tis an irregular discharge of ordnance. Mark my word, they have come to hand-grips! But 'tis no good purpose to tarry here; possibly, in the town we'll hear tidings."
So saying, we resumed our rapid pace, and, gaining the level road at the foot of the down, we made for Shide, which lay betwixt us and Newport.
Hardly had we reached the outskirts of the little village, when the noise of an approaching cavalcade caused us to stop and look behind us.
Riding furiously, with loose rein, came a score or so of horsemen, richly dressed, and armed with swords and pistols, their curls floating behind them in disorder.
Next came a lumbering chariot, drawn by six horses with outriders, and within it we had a momentary glimpse of a lady, stern-faced, yet handsome withal.
The carriage was immediately followed by a number of bronzed and bearded soldiers, accoutred with breastplates, steel helmets, leather breeches, and jack boots, each man carrying a musquetoon on his hip, a pair of pistols in his holsters, and a stout broadsword hanging from a cross-belt of buff leather, which was counterbalanced by a fully charged bandolier.
We had barely time to flatten ourselves against the chalk bank at the side of the road before the troop had passed us, leaving a thick cloud of white dust, which hung motionless in the still air for several minutes after they had disappeared along the road leading to the castle of Carisbrooke.
Wondering what might be the meaning of this swiftly moving cavalcade, we resumed our steps towards the town of Newport; but hardly had we come within sight of the market-place when we perceived, by the great concourse of townsfolk present, that something untoward was taking place.
At this all thoughts of gaining the school gates before sunset vanished out of our heads, and, by dint of pushing and edging between the tightly packed masses of people, we succeeded in working our way to the forefront of the crowd.
Standing on a flight of stone steps outside a half-timbered house was a tall, lean, ill-conditioned man, dressed in a sombre garb of russet, set off only by a plain white linen collar and a buff sword-belt, while his thin, pale face, disfigured by a wide, thin-lipped mouth, long nose, and small black ferrety eyes, was surmounted by a steeple-crowned hat, which, resting on a pair of huge, projecting ears, almost concealed his close-cropped hair.
"'Tis the mayor," whispered Ralph. "Hark! He talks rank sedition."
"And will ye, my friends," exclaimed this worthy magistrate in a thin, piping voice, "allow this man, Charles, to ride rough-shod over your heads? Or will ye join with the people of England in putting down this sink of iniquity in our midst? What of our ancient rights and privileges—have they not been trodden in the dust and our birthright sold by this son of Belial for a mess of pottage? Up! up! I say, and join in the undoing of the tyrant. Where is this man Charles? He hath fled—fled from the City of London, and no man knoweth whither! News hath arrived that the trainbands have sided with the Parliament, the seaports have declared for liberty and freedom, and even now George Goring holds Portsmouth against the——"
"Nay, Master Mayor," shouted a bull-lunged spectator. "Therein thou art wrong. Goring hath declared for His Majesty King Charles, whom God preserve; and even now thy foul rabble yap round the gates of that town, afraid to venture therein!"
Cheers and groans greeted this announcement, and for the moment the traitorous mayor was taken aback.
"How know you that this be true, Master Rich?" he asked suspiciously.
"Considering I came hither but this morning, I am well prepared to abide by what I have said," replied the interrupter boldly. "And I tell thee, Mr. Mayor, what thou hast said shall be duly recorded against thee, and within a week thy head will grace the tower of St. Thomas."
Upon this there was a considerable tumult, some siding with the Royalist, though the majority upheld the mayor, till above the noise came a hoarse, authoritative voice shouting:
"Way! Way! I ride on affairs of State!"
The crowd gave way right and left, and, urging a restive horse through the press, a mail-clad man rode towards the spot where the mayor stood.
The new-comer was a heavy, thick-set man, with a bronzed face, pointed beard, and an upturned moustache, while his iron-grey hair was cut close to his massive head.
He was bareheaded, his steel cap hanging from his saddle-bow, and his buff-coat and breast-plate were flecked with dust, while his steaming and foam-covered steed showed that he had not spared the spur.
"The chief magistrate of the town of Newport?" he demanded curtly.
"I am he, worthy sir," replied the mayor, all bravado having, for the moment, left him.
Without speaking, the messenger put on his steel cap, drew his sword, and saluted the startled mayor; then, returning the weapon to its scabbard with military smartness, he handed him a sealed packet.
Tearing the seals, the mayor read the contents of the letter in silence, and then looked at the messenger as if undecided as to his reply.
"Read! Read it aloud!" shouted the crowd, and, his courage slowly returning, the mayor raised his hand for silence, and then began to deliver the message in an almost inaudible voice.
"Louder! Louder!" was the cry and the chief magistrate handed the letter to the clerk, who stood at his elbow.
"'His Majesty, having raised his standard at Nottingham, doth hereby confer upon me authority to take active measures against rebels now assembled within the Isle of Wight, that lieth within my jurisdiction. I hereby order and request all loyal and liege subjects of His Majesty to repair to the castle of Carisbrooke. His Majesty hath desired it to be known that, should the emergency and the great necessity to which he is driven beget any violation of law, he hopes it shall be imputed to the authors of this war, and not to him, who hath so earnestly laboured to preserve the peace of the kingdom. —Signed, Portland, Governor of the Wight.'"
A confused babel of cheers, shouts, and groans greeted the governor's message, and the mayor, noting that hostile demonstrations held the uppermost hand, spoke up:
"You see, my friends, the perjurers of our liberty would have the blame placed upon the Commons and the people of England. This is an infamous lie."
Then, turning to the messenger:
"Tell His Grace of Portland that the townsfolk of Newport are prepared to repair to Carisbrooke—but to wrest the castle from the hands of the malignants."
"Crop-eared hound!" exclaimed the messenger, whipping out his sword. "Had I not been enjoined to deliver the message to the mayors of Newtown and Yarmouth ere midnight, I would right willingly give my life's blood to hew that head from off thy shoulders," and, drawing his horse almost on its haunches, the Royalist wheeled, and rode defiantly through the crowd, with head erect and drawn sword, none offering to bar his passage.
"Up, and smite the sons of Belial!" was the cry, and the more timorous of the townsfolk began to make for their homes.
"Yea, up and smite them, hip and thigh!" exclaimed the mayor. "News has this moment reached my ears that the wife of this malignant, the Earl of Portland, has taken refuge in Carisbrooke Castle, and has vowed to hold it against the Parliament and the people of England. Repair to your homes, arm yourselves, and assemble in the market-place within an hour, and I'll warrant that before to-morrow's sun hath set the castle will be in our hands."
Rapidly the crowd dispersed, and once more the thought of returning to school crossed our minds. It was now quite dark.
"Ralph," I exclaimed resolutely, "I've made up my mind. I'm not going back to school."
"Not?"
"No, I'm going to offer my services to the King. I can use a musket, push a pike, or wield a sword as well as a good many men."
"Then I'm with you," replied Granville. "But where shall we go?"
"Ah, where?" I replied, for that question had not occurred to me. "Either to the castle, or else make for home; I know my father would place no obstacles in my way."
"The castle gates may be already closed," objected Ralph. "And, on the other hand, how are we to get across to the mainland? How much money have you?"
"Two shillings," I exclaimed ruefully.
"And I have but a crown—hardly enough to pay for a boat to take us over! Never mind, we'll decide which course to take, and lay our plans accordingly. A spin of the coin will decide—heads, Carisbrooke; tails, Ashley."
The coin flashed dully, and, peering at in the darkness, we found that His Majesty's effigy had fallen head downwards. "Home it is, Ralph!" I exclaimed. "Then how do you propose to journey there?"
"Thus, I mean to take a boat from the quay. Didst notice that evil-looking villain close to your elbow, who did continually applaud that arrant traitor, the mayor?"
"Ay, 'twas Cripps, the boatman."
"The same; though I wot not that you knew him. As he sides with the enemy, for such they be now, since the King has raised his standard, it matters not what we take of his, for I'll warrant he'll not hesitate to help himself, should the castle be taken and sacked. Therefore, I propose to take his largest boat, drop down the river, and cross to the Hamptonshire shore, which we can easily do in a matter of four or five hours. But, hist! We are still going straight towards the school, and someone approaches. 'Tis the dominie!"
In the excitement of discussing our plans we had unconsciously turned our steps towards St. James' Street, and were already within a few paces of the Grammar School. Hastily drawing into a low doorway, we awaited in breathless silence the passing of our master, and it was with mixed feelings of regret and relief that we saw the dim outlines of his familiar figure shuffle noiselessly by, though so intent on some abstruse proposition that, even had we been in the roadway, I doubt whether he would have observed us.
Dear old dominie, in spite of all his apparent severities! Little did I think of the events in store for me ere I saw his stern yet kindly features once again.
"Then, concerning arms and provisions," continued Granville.
"That I have given thought to. There's Sutton, the armourer of Holyrood Street. He is well acquainted with my father, having served under him before he set up for himself in the island, and he will willingly provide us with the proper equipment. Let us hasten thither, for, if I mistake not, 'twill be a busy night for him."
A few minutes' walk brought us to the door of the armourer's shop. Not a light was visible, and the windows were shuttered and heavily barred.
I knocked, and, after a little while, finding there was no reply, I knocked louder.
"Who's there?" exclaimed a deep voice. "And what d'ye lack?"
"'Tis I, Humphrey Markham."
"Lord love you, Master Markham! What brings you here this time o' night? Wait but a moment, and I'll unbar the door."
The door was cautiously opened, and, followed by Granville, I entered. The old armourer, holding a candle lantern, ushered us into an apartment which comprised both a shop and a living-room, but, contrary to its usual appearance, the place was practically bare.
The armourer was a short, broad-shouldered man, with massive, muscular arms that ill matched a pair of short, thin legs, which, as if unequal to bear the weight of his body, had assumed a bow-like appearance; while his round, good-humoured face was partially covered by a thick crop of raven-black hair, which surrounded a bald and shiny pate.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, with a ringing laugh, as he noticed my perplexed glances at the almost empty room. "Looks a bit different to when you were here last? Well, Will Sutton can read the signs of the times pretty clearly, I can assure you. Knowing that the arms would be taken in the name of the people, I sent them up to the castle yester-night, and I hold Colonel Brett's receipt for them. Already the mayor has sent thrice for them, but this time he's too late."
"We're come here to get some arms, also," I announced.
"You, Master Markham! What for?"
"To fight with, I expect. We are on our way to join my father."
"'Tis grave news," he remarked. "Though you are but young, the King will require every man fit to bear arms, I trove. Still, I think I have sufficient to equip both you and your companion."
"Now, concerning the payment——"
"Nay, never mind that," he interrupted. "I have little doubt but that His Grace the Earl of Portland will well repay me for what I have already delivered; if not, I know too well that your father will recompense me for any slight service I can do for his son. Come this way, and we'll see what can be done."
So saying, he took the lantern and went upstairs, we following.
From under a bed he, with the aid of our united efforts, dragged out a heavy box, and, throwing back the lid, disclosed a store of weapons.
"Here, Master Markham, is a fine piece of steel," he exclaimed, handing me a sword in a black scabbard of Spanish leather. "Draw it, and try its temper."
An indescribable feeling of pleasure possessed me as I handled the blade, which, even in the dim candle-light, flashed like a thousand diamonds.
"Don't be afraid of it," said the armourer as I cautiously bent the steel with my hands. "A better piece of steel was never welded. See!"
And, taking the beautiful weapon from me, he bent the tempered blade till the point touched the guard, letting it fly back to its natural position.
"'Tis just suited to your height and strength, Master Markham, for a greater mistake cannot be made than to give a man a heavier sword than he can profitably wield; and, moreover, I pray you, remember it has a point. I'll show you what I mean."
So saying, he placed a small cube of oak upon a heavy stool, and, retaining the light weapon, he gave me a heavy broadsword.
"Now, young master, mind the beam overhead, and make a shrewd stroke at that junk of wood."
Grasping the broadsword, I raised my arm till the point touched the beam, then, putting all my strength into the blow, I struck at the wooden block. The next instant the blade had sunk deep into the stool on which the block had been standing; but, to my surprise, the block itself was nowhere to be seen.
"Well," asked the armourer, laughing, "where is the junk of oak?"
"Truly, I know not, unless I have shorn it in two! My arm aches with the force of the blow."
"Did I not tell you that this weapon had a point?" he exclaimed, producing the light sword, on which the cube was firmly fixed. "'Tis what might have happened in actual fight. Whilst you were bringing the heavy blade down I pinked the wood with the light one, and you were not one whit the wiser. Now, take the weapon, and remember the words they engrave on trusty blades, 'Never sheath me, save in honour.' Here, too, is a sword for your friend, not quite so fine as yours, but a goodly blade withal. And here are a brace of small pistols apiece, with a score of charges in a waterproof case. How are you going to cross over?" he added.
In a few words I told him.
"Capitally planned," he exclaimed. "Cripps, the waterman, was one of those rogues who would have despoiled anybody of his stock. You know the channel?"
"Passably."
"'Tis easy; keep well in the centre, and you'll not go far wrong. 'Twill be high water at one hour before midnight, but, when you get to Cowes Castle, drop anchor and pretend to fish till you see the tide making to the east'ard. A matter of five or six hours that'll be; but 'twill be no use starting before, and then you'll have a fair tide right the whole way over. What place do you make for?"
"Portsmouth, I hope."
"They say the place is assailed by the rebels, though perchance they do not keep a strict blockade." A few more words of good advice, and we took our leave of the kindly armourer, who also provided us with food; then, walking boldly through the now deserted streets, we came to the quay.
CHAPTER II
COLONEL NICHOLAS FIRESTONE
NEARLY a score of boats of various sizes were moored to the quay, their outlines barely discernible against the placid surface of the dark water.
Handing my sword to my companion, I carefully lowered myself into the nearest boat, and made my way slowly from one to the other, till I found the one we sought.
Fortunately, the oars had been left on board, and, what was more, a small sail rolled round a short mast lay on the thwarts. The craft, though barely fifteen feet in length, had plenty of beam, so that, although cumbersome to row, it would doubtless prove an able boat under sail.
As I had had considerable experience in the art of managing a boat, having frequently made short voyages with the fishermen during the holidays, I had no misgivings as to the handling of this craft, although Granville did not regard my capabilities in the same light as I did.
"Hasten," I whispered, fearful lest some belated passer-by might overhear us; "jump in, and cast off that rope."
It was the work of a few moments to stow the arms carefully away, unfasten the rope that held the boat to the side of the quay, and to push off. Then, by dint of slow and careful strokes, we urged the heavy craft towards the centre of the channel, and pointed its bow in the direction of Cowes.
A few minutes' steady rowing sufficed to take us clear of the buildings lining the quay, and, looking astern, our eyes becoming more accustomed to the darkness, we could see the tower of St. Thomas' Church standing out against the blackness of the night.
Not a sound came from the town, save the occasional barking of a dog; but in the direction of Carisbrooke a subdued roar, like the distant sound of waves breaking on the shore, came faintly to our ears, and from the summit of the keep we could discern the flare of the wood fires as the garrison plied the cressets with more fuel.
"They lie thick around the castle," remarked Ralph. "And spare not their lungs though it seems that they have not yet opened the attack."
"No," I replied, "I can hear no sounds of ordnance. Perchance they are afraid to attempt an escalade, for 'tis certain Colonel Brett will not hesitate to fire on the rebels, should they draw nigh the walls."
After all, it was better for us that fate, or, rather, the spin of a coin, decided against our throwing in our lot with the garrison of Carisbrooke, for we afterwards learnt that there were but three days' provisions, and but four small barrels of powder within the fortress, the garrison of which was composed mostly of invalided and wounded soldiers from the Scottish wars. So it came about that the valiant Countess of Portland appeared on the ramparts with a lighted match in her hand, and threatened to fire the first cannon on the rebels, and to hold the castle to the last extremity, unless she and the garrison were permitted to march out with all the honours of war. The rebels, little knowing the weakness of the defenders, and probably glad of the opportunity of foregoing the risk of combat, gladly agreed to the Countess' terms, and on the following day the garrison retired in good order to Yarmouth.
The tide was now running out, yet, in spite of steady labouring at the heavy oars, it was a matter of nearly two hours ere we reached the mouth of the river, where the two castles of Cowes kept watch and ward, though whether for or against the King we knew not.
Mindful of the armourer's warning, we cast anchor close to the edge of a mud-bank, and waited till the tide turned, for there was little or no wind, so that 'twould have been a forlorn hope to attempt to stem the adverse current.
For over an hour, as it seemed (for we were unable to measure the time), we lay thus, talking of the future, yet during that space neither did the tide show signs of slackening, nor did the dawn commence to show in the east.
Suddenly, through the darkness, came the flashes of muskets, fired in quick succession, and a babel of voices at no great distance, while a bullet whistled above our heads, causing us to lie cowering under the frail shelter of our boat's side.
Other shots came at intervals, till at length the firing ceased, and we summoned sufficient courage to sit up and look around.
"What's amiss?" asked Granville.
"Nay, I cannot tell," I replied, "unless it be that one of the castles has been attempted."
"The firing was too close for that," he rejoined. "Much too close to my liking."
"And mine also."
We relapsed into silence, straining our ears for every sound. Presently we heard above the confused noise of men's voices the creaking of tackle and the sound of oars being thrown into a boat.
"They are lowering a boat from some ship near at hand," I whispered. "Quick, now! Get the fishing tackle, and cast the lines overboard, or we are undone."
Hastily we groped in the stern-locker for the lines; but, just as we were about to make them ready, we heard a sullen splash in the water close to our craft.
The next instant a pair of hands grasped the gunwale, and the dripping head of a man appeared over the side.
I doubt who was the more confused—we, at the sudden apparition, or the swimmer at the sight of two figures in what he had reasonably thought to be an empty boat, for we had been both kneeling on the bottom boards engaged in clearing the lines.
"Hist!" he whispered. "If ye be true King's men, give me shelter."
"Right willingly," I replied in a low voice, and, leaning over the side so that the gunwale almost dipped, we seized the man's clothing and helped him on board.
"A sorry shelter, but one that doth not come amiss," he remarked, noticing that our craft was entirely open. "I see a sail rolled up yonder; cover me up, and, if ye bear any love for His Majesty, betray me not. They will be looking for me here anon."
It was no time for questions or explanations. The fugitive crept underneath the forward thwarts and curled himself into a small compass by the side of the mast, which we had already stepped in order to lose no time when the tide changed.
Quickly I unfurled the sail, and, tossing it over the thwart, I noticed with considerable satisfaction that it fell in apparent and natural disorder over the place where the man lay huddled up.
Then, putting a brave face on the matter, we cast our lines and waited.
Before long we heard the sound of oars, and, rowing aimlessly hither and thither, there came a large boat. In the bows stood a man holding a lantern, which cast long reflections on the rippling waters, and no doubt dazzled more than served him.
"He's gone, sure enow, Baldwin," exclaimed a voice. "That first volley must have settled him."
"I was nearer than that at Newburn, and a whole platoon missed me," was the scornful reply. "Pull more this way, I pray you."
"Even if we had missed him," answered the other, "he had his jack-boots on when he jumped overboard. Against the tide he can do nothing."
"Pull this way, I say again," interrupted the man with the lantern. "I see a boat."
In another moment the pursuers' craft rubbed alongside our boat, and the light was flashed in our faces.
"Who be you, young masters?" exclaimed the holder of the lantern roughly. "And what are ye doing at this time o' night?"
"Fishing, sir. We be come from Newport," I replied, imitating as well as I could the tongue of the fisher-folk, though my heart was in my mouth.
"Didst see a man swimming?"
"Nay," I replied truthfully enough, for the fugitive had finished swimming the moment he had grasped the gunwale. "But we were sore afraid of the shots."
"What hast got under that sail?" he demanded suspiciously, holding the lantern above his head and shortening a small pike which he held in his right hand.
"Shame on thee, Baldwin," exclaimed another man. "Wouldst spoil an honest fisher-folk's sail with a pike thrust? Come on, let's away; we are but losing time."
The men released their hold of our gunwale, and their boat, drifting rapidly with the tide, disappeared in the darkness, only the faint glimmer of the lantern betraying their whereabouts.
"They're gone," I whispered to the fugitive.
"Yes, I know it," he replied; "but, with all due respect to you, I'll tarry here longer, for I am in no mood to take to the waters again. Canst put me ashore in a little while?"
"Where would you land?"
"It matters little, though I have a preference for the Hamptonshire coast, if gold can work the oracle."
"'Tis not a matter for payment," I replied with as much dignity as I could command. "And if you're for the King, we'll gladly place you on the nether shore, for, as fate would have it, we ourselves purpose journeying to Portsmouth."
"I perceive by your manner of speech that you are not fisher-folk," he continued, "though I cannot judge by your appearance. Nevertheless, I shall be heartily glad to stretch my cramped limbs once more, and then we'll talk further on the matter."
"Be careful that you do not raise your voice," I continued. "The sound travels afar on the water, especially on a quiet night."
"Ay," he assented, throwing off the sail and stretching his huge legs, which were still encased in jack-boots, under the thwarts. "Now I feel more at ease. Did I have but a pipe of stinging tobacco and a jugful of strong waters I'd be content. But why do you wait here at anchor?"
"Till the tide turns."
"Then a murrain on the tide, say I. Twice hath the tide treated me scurvily. Once as we left the port of Cherbourg, and again off Hurst Castle, where but for the force of the current I could easily have swum ashore. Knowing that you have not betrayed me, I'll tell my mission. Hast ever heard of Nick Firestone?"
"I remember my father speaking highly of one Nicholas Firestone, who gained great and honourable distinction in the Low Countries."
"Great, I admit, but I must needs cavil at the honourable, though 'twas only when hard pressed that I had to think of a whole skin before honour. And who is thy father?"
"Sir Reginald Markham, of Ashley, in the county of Hamptonshire."
"As good and brave a knight that ever set hand on hilt. And I'll warrant his eye is as keen and his arm as strong as it was when he and I fought side by side in the retreat from Rhé. Certes! A dozen such as he and things would have gone far different in that miserable affair."
"And what of your mission?" I asked, curious to know what circumstances had caused him to swim off to our boat.
"I'll tell you. Upon my person, sealed, and proof against water, I bear despatches in cipher from the King of France, to be delivered at all costs to His Majesty, the purport being unknown to me, though I know it is of inestimable value. Another trusted messenger, bearing a duplicate, has left for Dover, and a third has sailed from Cherbourg to Fowey. The last has the better chance, seeing that Cornwall is ever devoted to His Majesty."
"True, true, Master Firestone," exclaimed Granville, speaking to him for the first time.
"Then I take it you are of Cornish stock? I rejoice to hear it, though I know not your name; but, at the same time, I would inform you that I am Colonel, and not Master, Firestone."
"And he is named Ralph Granville," I informed him. "But concerning your perilous voyage?"
"I left Cherbourg four days agone in the barque Endeavour, of Lymington, and the first intimation of the inevitable rupture 'twixt the King and his rebellious Parliament occurred in a rude fashion by the Endeavour being boarded when off the Needles by the ship Bonaventure, lately held by His Majesty, but recently seized by the rebels, and forming part of the fleet that lay against Portsmouth."
"Though we carried naught that might be reckoned as munitions of war, some of the officers of the Bonaventure recognised me, and, thinking rightly that I was on the service of the King, they detained me, searching my baggage and person for any documents. Therein they were foiled, but how I'll explain anon. Finding nothing, they clapped me in a close and dirty cabin on the Bonaventure's main deck, allowing me to take the air on deck every four hours."
"At yester-midday the vessel came up under all sail through the Solent Channel, and stood over so close to Hurst Castle that I hoped to seize the chance of jumping overboard and swimming ashore; but so strong flowed the tide, surpassing the trotting pace of a horse, that the Bonaventure was swept back and compelled to anchor in one of the bays on the island shore."
"With the turn of the tide we made the harbour of Cowes, and again anchored for the night. Here I feigned sickness, and asked to be brought up on deck, and, fortune favouring me, I sprang into the sea, followed by a volley from the muskets of the soldiers on board, for, to give the men credit, they stood more quickly to their pieces than I expected."
"It was a narrow escape, for one of the bullets grazed my hand, and several splashed up the water all around; but, thanks to Providence, I found myself swimming straight for your boat, and the rest you are well acquainted with. But now, Master Markham, I perceive that the tide runs but weakly, and the breeze is springing up. Actions, not words, must prevail, for in another half an hour day will be breaking."
We immediately set about getting the boat under way, and, pulling up the anchor, shipping the rudder, and hoisting sail, we slipped quietly out of the harbour, and shaped a course in the direction which we supposed Portsmouth to lie.
While these preparations were going on, the dawn began to glimmer in the east, and I could now see what our new companion was like, though he still sprawled on the bottom boards, fearful lest he should be seen from the Bonaventure, which we could dimly make out away towards the western side of the harbour.
Colonel Nicholas Firestone was now revealed in the person of a tall and wiry-looking man, yet possessing a massive frame, which carried little beyond bone and muscle.
His face was thin, while a mass of deep wrinkles covered his cheeks and forehead, which a short dark brown pointed beard, upturned moustachios, shaggy eyebrows, and a thick crop of grizzled hair all but concealed. He was soberly dressed, so that his apparel, which, being wet, clung to his frame, gave no indication as to whether he was for or against the Crown.
[Illustration: "I sprang into the sea."]
As far as we could judge, he was unarmed, but, strangely enough, his feet were still encased in heavy riding boots and spurs.
As we rounded the Castle Point the sun rose above the horizon a deep red ball of fire, while the wind, which hitherto had been light, now increased, causing the little craft to plunge and stagger as she breasted the short, steep waves.
Glancing astern, we saw the Bonaventure still at anchor, though her sails were shaken loose, ready to get under way.
"'Twill be a good half-hour before she can follow, and, should the breeze hold, as I think it will, we'll be well over to the opposite shore ere then," remarked Colonel Firestone, raising himself slowly, as if cramped by the long confinement, and awkwardly making his way aft to the stern-sheets. "So it matters little whether they see us or not, though, I doubt not, they have a perspective-glass or two bearing this way."
"There are several ships of war ahead," I exclaimed, pointing in the direction of a number of dark objects standing out clearly against the light almost on the skyline.
"We must hug the shore closely and take our chance. A small craft like this might escape notice."
Even as Colonel Firestone spoke a cloud of smoke, followed by a muffled report, sprang from one of the ships, and immediately the firing became general. The attack upon the town of Portsmouth had been renewed.
From where we were the fortress was invisible, being hidden by a long, low tongue of shingly beach, surmounted by a thick belt of furze; but, judging by the direction of the sounds, we concluded that Goring was offering a stubborn resistance.
At length, with wind and tide, we rounded the intervening shore, and the town came into full view. I knew the place but slightly, having only passed through it on my journeys 'twist Ashley and Newport, but Firestone showed that he was no stranger to the fortress.
"The rebels press closely on all sides save the eastern," he exclaimed. "Look, they have thrown up batteries on Gosport shore, and by the smoke I perceive the northern side is assailed also. See the Royalist batteries on the Platform—they are not backward, and the Round Tower holds its own. Canst make out the tower of the church? Is it afire, or have they mounted cannon therein?"
"I cannot tell," I replied. "The smoke lies over all like a cloud, though 'tis certain the town is afire in more places than one."
"Ay, it is not to be expected that the town comes off scatheless. Dost see that stone fortalice to the east of the town? 'Tis Southsea Castle, which in truth is the key of the position. Betwixt it and the Platform is a stretch of beach, whence, if we can effect a landing, 'tis but an easy matter to gain the postern."
"Before so doing we must run the gauntlet of the rebel ships."
"Ay, but perchance they'll be too busy to mind us."
Bidding us lie down, the colonel took the helm, and, standing boldly over towards the beach, we passed between the ships and the town batteries, the shot flying thickly overhead, though, fortunately, as both sides were firing at long range, the cannon-balls attained the highest point in their trajectory above our heads, save a few that, either by accident or design, fell unpleasantly close to us.
We had arrived within half a mile or so of the beach when we saw that the nearest warship had lowered a couple of boats, which started in close pursuit of us.
Without a moment's hesitation Nick Firestone called upon me to take the tiller, and, grasping the heavy oars, he rowed strongly towards the shore, the boat, under oars and sail, making a long wake astern.
"They gain on us," he muttered. "Hast weapons on board?"
"A brace of pistols apiece," I replied, telling Granville to produce them from the stern-locker.
"Handy enough at twenty paces," was his contemptuous remark, "though they may serve to gain our end. Load all four, Master Granville, and place them by my side."
A stern chase is ever a long one, yet the two pursuing boats came on apace, each urged by twelve rowers, whose efforts were encouraged by their officers.
Meanwhile the batteries ashore, seeing that something untoward was happening, began to fire at our pursuers, though their aim was wild, and bid fair to harm us as well as our foes.
Suddenly a bullet struck our light mast, and, cutting through the halyards, brought the sail down with a run.
Uttering a fierce exclamation, Firestone tore away the folds of the canvas that enveloped him, and, calling on me to keep the boat on her course, resumed rowing, though I imagined it to be a forlorn hope, for, glancing over my shoulder, I saw one of the rebels' boats was but six lengths astern.
Even as I looked a huge column of water sprang into the air, and fell in a shower of spray to the accompaniment of a crashing and rending of wood and shrieks and shouts of surprise and terror. A chance shot from the batteries had wrought havoc with the leading boat, and her crew were struggling in the water.
The second boat made to the rescue, and at the same moment we saw a troop of dragoons riding furiously along the shore from the Castle—yet, though within easy range, they forbore to fire on their discomfited foes.
Another twenty strokes and our craft's forefoot grounded on the beach.
We were safe within the lines of the beleaguered fortress.