CHAPTER III
FRIEND OR FOE?
SCRAMBLING awkwardly ashore, Colonel Firestone made straight for the captain of the dragoons, while, having secured our arms, Granville and I followed, leaving the boat to its fate.
It was the first time we had seen our companion on dry land, and I was struck by his peculiar gait as he shuffled his jack-booted feet in a very indifferent manner of walking.
The captain of dragoons, a slender, dandified man, looked with mingled astonishment and amusement at the strange figure approaching him.
"Who are you, fellow, and what is your condition?" he demanded in an affected drawl.
"Why should I declare my name?" replied Firestone sternly, his voice belying his appearance. "Sufficient it is to state that I am on the King's service."
"I am but doing my duty," rejoined the officer, though with considerably less affectation.
"Then do it. Conduct us to Colonel Goring. I am indebted to you for your good services, Captain whatever your name may be, but I tell you plainly I like not your style."
"Chaloner is my name," said the other haughtily.
"And mine, since you have so far unbended, is Nicholas Firestone, holding His Majesty's commission as colonel. Perchance, Captain Chaloner, my name is not wholly unfamiliar to you?"
Instantly the other's manner underwent a complete change.
"A thousand pardons," he exclaimed, "though, by the manner of your arrival, I was misled."
And, ordering three of his men to dismount, he offered their steeds to Firestone, Granville, and me.
By this time the rebel boat had picked up the crew of her unfortunate consort, and, heavily laden, was slowly making her way back to the nearest man-of-war, still under fire from the guns of the fortress.
Meanwhile the troop had remounted, the three steedless dragoons were told to follow without delay, and at the word of command the party set off towards the town.
Our road lay between the sea on the left hand and a large expanse of furze-covered common on the right, with hardly a building to break the deadly monotony of the landscape. As far as I could see, there was not a natural piece of ground that was twenty feet above the level of the sea.
Before us rose the fortifications of Portsmouth, and as we drew nearer we saw that the damage done by the rebels' shots was considerable, the Gothic tower of the church and several of the houses being very severely handled.
The cannonade continued without intermission, several of the shots from the ships ploughing the ground in front and behind us, and, though neither Firestone nor the troopers paid the slightest attention to them, Granville and I were considerably startled, while Captain Chaloner was manifestly ill at ease.
Outside the walls we dismounted, the dragoons holding the horses under the shelter of a low bank of shingle, and, led by Chaloner, we crossed a narrow wooden bridge and reached the postern. Here the captain gave the countersign, and the next moment we were in the town of Portsmouth.
"Where is Colonel Goring, sirrah?" demanded Chaloner of a man who wore the Governor's livery.
"On his way to breakfast, sir."
Upon this we directed our footsteps towards the Governor's house, where, with little delay, we were ushered into Goring's presence.
Although he professed great pleasure in meeting Colonel Firestone once more, George Goring's delight seemed somewhat too effusive to be genuine. Nevertheless, he gave orders for the paymaster to advance twenty pounds to meet our present needs, and wrote out an order on an armourer in St. Nicholas' Street to equip us with whatever weapons or armour we required.
"You must be our guest for some time to come, willing or unwilling," he exclaimed, "for the force of the Parliament hems us in by land and sea."
"But I must needs hasten to the King's camp," remonstrated Firestone.
"Then your wits must find a way, for a dog can scarce crawl out of the town without being shot at. 'Tis a mystery how you managed to get in."
"Then I'll get out by the same means as I came in," replied our friend stoutly. "But tell me, can you hold the town?"
For answer Goring held up a large iron key which hung from his waist by a strong chain.
"Dost see this?" he asked pompously. "I swear 'fore God that as long as I live the key, which is that of the Town Mount Gate, shall never fall into the hands of the King's enemies."
"Amen," replied Firestone piously. "But how goes the garrison? Are the munitions and provisions like to last out?"
"Powder and shot in plenty. Twelve hundred and fifty barrels of powder lie in the Square Tower, and two hundred in the vaults of the Town Mount; but of provisions we are sorely short. Witness my breakfast, a piece of rusk bread and a herring. If you will do me the honour, comrade, perchance we may find enough for us all."
We were certainly nearly famished with hunger, and even a sorry meal of bread and fish, washed down with ale, was welcome.
Finally, the Governor dismissed us, saying that pressing work was before him, and we filed out of his presence.
At the door I happened to glance behind me, and to my surprise I saw a waiting-man stealthily thrust a paper into Chaloner's hand; but, treating the matter as of small moment, I soon forgot the incident.
In the street we parted, the captain expressing his intention of returning to his post, for he had been entrusted with the holding of Southsea Castle, which Colonel Firestone had described as the key of the position, while the colonel, Granville, and I repaired to a lodging in Little Penny Lane.
Tired with our exertions, though 'twas but eleven o'clock in the morning, we retired and rested well till the following day.
We were early abroad, for Colonel Firestone was anxious to obtain proper arms and equipment on the strength of Goring's order.
At the armourer's in St. Nicholas' Street he carefully selected a stout and heavy broadsword, a pair of pistols, and a petronel, while a breastplate, tassettes, and a steel cap with barrets completed his soldierly equipment.
Strangely enough, he still retained his salt-stained jackboots, refusing the suggestion that a pair of Spanish riding-boots would better suit his purpose.
The armourer had no difficulty in fitting me with a breastplate and steel cap, for my frame was as great as many a man's; but Granville's slighter build was encased in a steel covering which fitted so loosely that I could not refrain from jesting with him on the matter.
"Never mind, Master Granville," said Firestone. "A few months' active service and I'll warrant you'll fill it right enow."
There was nothing about our appearance to mark us as cavaliers, save our long hair, and I remarked this to Firestone.
"Faith," he replied, "I am well aware of it, though 'tis a small matter to conceal our locks under our steel caps. But, as 'tis certain we must break away and join the King as soon as possible, strategy must needs play its part."
"And your plan——?"
"Is to find a way out—how, I know not at present. The countryside must be alive with these rebels, so that we must be prepared where necessary to give and receive hard knocks. As your father, Sir Reginald, is with the King, 'tis best to make for Ashley, gain definite information, and then ride northwards as hard as we can travel."
"What think ye of Goring?" I asked boldly.
He looked strangely at me for a moment, then replied
"He is a vainglorious boaster. Already he has played the turncoat, and, in spite of his brave words, I'll warrant he'll betray his trust and Chaloner, who holds Southsea Castle, is no better."
Thereupon I told him of the message stealthily conveyed by the serving-man.
"I would you had told me of this before, and I would have challenged the young pup on the spot. Nevertheless, I'll mark him well, and at the first sign of treachery I'll make him answer to the King with his life."
A few days after our arrival in the beleaguered town, Colonel Firestone, who had been entrusted with the keeping of the postern by which we had entered, returned to our lodgings after dark with a look of intense excitement on his face.
"You are both young, but active and fit to be trusted," he exclaimed. "Art willing to adventure your lives in a hazardous service?"
We both assented.
"Then, hearken! My doubts concerning Goring's lukewarmness and Chaloner's treachery are gaining ground. Did I not say that who holds the castle commands the town? Yet Chaloner has withdrawn most of his dragoons and quartered them in the town, where they are no better than common musketeers! In the castle there are left but twenty pikemen, five dragoons, and twenty musketeers, and, though the castle is likely to be attempted at any time, Chaloner comes nightly into the town to carouse with the Governor. Moreover, I saw him give a missive to the same man who acts as servant at Goring's house, and I feel certain that the man has left for the rebel lines."
"Then what do you want us to do?"
"I mean to return with Chaloner to the castle to-night, you accompanying us. Then, should the rebels attempt an escalade, I'll seize Chaloner if he play false, and hold the castle against them, should the garrison stand by me."
"And if not?"
"Then I'll slay the traitor with my own hands, and in the darkness we'll attempt a passage through the rebels' lines!"
"And now," he continued, as he made ready his arms, "it wants but two hours to midnight, yet in that time much remains to be done. Let us be up and doing."
"Yes," repeated Colonel Firestone, as he finished charging his pistols, "it is time for us to be up and doing."
So saying, he led the way from the house, and, keeping well in the shadows, we traversed several side streets till we gained the Landport Gate, hard by the Town Mount. Thence, after a few whispered words with the guard, we passed through the gateway, crossed the moat, and were soon in the flat, open country that lies without the walls.
A walk of less than half a mile brought us to a few deserted houses, standing hard by a ruined windmill, for at the commencement of the siege the inhabitants of Coleharbour, as this hamlet is called, had abandoned their homes and taken refuge in the town. 'Twas well for them that they did, for, being in the line of fire, the buildings had already suffered from the batteries of both forces.
Taking up our position in the angle of a partially demolished outbuilding, we waited. Nor were we kept long in suspense, for gliding stealthily along the road a cloaked figure loomed up in the darkness.
'Twas the man who had left for the rebel camp with some secret message from the treacherous captain.
"Now!" exclaimed the colonel, and, dashing out upon the startled man, we bore him to the ground.
In a few minutes he was bound and gagged, and left to await discovery in the doorway of one of the houses, while we were speeding back to the town with a written message to Captain Chaloner in our possession.
At the Landport Gate Firestone led us into a well-lighted room, where we could examine the intercepted letter. Fortunately, it was not sealed, but merely secured by a silken cord.
"Ah!" exclaimed the colonel. "'Tis as plain as daylight: 'Before the morning watch, I say; before the morning watch.' Chaloner will receive his message, but let him take heed."
So saying, he refolded the missive, giving it to a pikeman to deliver to Chaloner at the Governor's house.
"Will he not want to know why his messenger has not delivered the letter in person?" I asked.
"Where wine is in the wit is out," replied Firestone oracularly. "But now, to the postern! The hour is at hand!"
Just before midnight we waited close to the postern for the faithless captain, and, before a quarter of an hour had passed, two cloaked figures, reeling with the effects of strong drink, staggered towards us.
"Hist! 'Tis Goring and Chaloner," whispered Firestone, dragging us into a recess.
Our companion had already given instructions to the guard, who, turning out smartly, saluted their worthless Governor, Goring.
"Fare thee well, Chaloner," said the latter unsteadily and with mock sadness. "I feel that I'll not see thee to-morrow."
It was a lengthy parting, but at length Goring returned towards his quarters, while Chaloner, hardly able to return the salute of the guard, staggered across the footbridge over the moat.
Hardly had he gained the open ground when Firestone gave the signal, and we followed, treading softly lest the captain should hear us while still within hailing distance of the fortifications.
It was a clear night, and we could distinctly see the lurching figure of our quarry against the sky-line. Away at Spithead the stern lanterns of the blockading ships glimmered like gigantic glow-worms, while away to the north flickered the watch-fires of the rebels' camp.
When Chaloner had covered half the distance 'twixt the town and the castle, Colonel Firestone increased his pace, and overtook the drunkard.
The captain showed no sign of alarm at our approach, merely stopping and looking at us in a half-dazed manner, then resuming his staggering gait.
"Captain Chaloner, we bear you company to the castle to-night," announced Firestone sternly.
"Delighted, I'm sure," replied he, turning and extending his hand, almost falling through the effort of standing still.
Without replying, the colonel seized his shoulder in a vice-like grip, and urged him towards the castle.
At the gateway we were challenged by a sleepy pikeman, and Chaloner mechanically giving the countersign, we gained the courtyard. Save for the pikemen, the castle appeared to be deserted, the guns standing unattended on their platforms, with neither match nor charge at hand, while, from a small outbuilding, came sounds of revelry.
Presently, from one of the embrasures, arose the dark, great-coated figure of a man, and, descending by a stone staircase, the watcher made towards us, producing a lantern from the folds of his cloak. At least, then, one man was on the alert.
"Who are you?" demanded Firestone.
"Sergeant Lawson, sir."
"Then take your captain to his quarters, and lock him in," continued the colonel. "And turn out those rascals I hear yonder."
Chaloner meekly submitted to be led away, and on his return the sergeant expressed his fears that an attack was imminent.
"What is to be done, sir," he exclaimed, "when the men are drunk and full of insubordination, taking Captain Chaloner as their example? Already the rebels are under arms, but whether they intend to attempt the castle or the town I know not."
Telling the sergeant to follow him, Firestone crossed over to the soldiers' quarters, where, in all stages of drunkenness, the men lay across the table or on the floor, heedless of their duty and indifferent to their danger.
Without a moment's hesitation, the colonel seized the nearest man, a big, bull-necked dragoon, and with the least apparent effort flung him headlong out into the open air. Another and another followed, but the fourth, a pikeman, drew his sword.
The next instant the weapon was flying across the room, and its owner lying stunned upon the floor. Seeing they had a man to deal with, the rest followed, forming up in the courtyard with more or less military precision.
They were immediately despatched to carry powder and shot to the platforms, port fires were lighted, and the guns manned; yet our leader knew that little reliance was to be placed upon the besotted garrison, Sergeant Lawson being the only dependable man.
"Listen, sergeant," exclaimed Colonel Firestone "How many horses are there within the walls?"
"Fifteen, sir."
"I take it you are resolved to support us?"
"To the death, sir."
"Then see to it that four of the best horses are saddled and tethered close to the gate."
We then began a tour of the platform, the colonel admonishing the semi-stupefied men, or, in some instances, appealing to their loyalty, while he personally undertook the sighting of every piece of ordnance, taking care that they were properly charged and primed.
Hardly had these preparations been completed than the steady tramp of armed men sounded through the darkness, and presently a line of lighted matches gleamed along the entire landward front of the castle. With quickening pulse I watched the approach of the assailants, wondering dimly what the end would be, as I cast about a musket, and made ready to fire.
Then came the sounds of men's voices singing in a deep bass, and I could distinguish the words of the 68th Psalm:
"Let God arise, and let his enemies be scattered."
One of our men uttered come coarse jest, but our leader sternly reproved him, and in silence we awaited the attack.
Suddenly a voice hailed us from the rebel ranks:
"Surrender to the forces of the Parliament of the Realm of England!"
"We hold no parley with rebels!" shouted Colonel Firestone. "Another step, and we open fire!"
Hardly were the words out of his mouth than a raucous voice came from a window of the keep.
"Go away, men, go away."
A shout of derisive laughter from the rebels greeted this speech of the tipsy Chaloner. By the light of a port fire I could see our leader biting his lip to conceal his anger.
"Your reply?" demanded the rebel officer.
"This!" shouted Firestone, and, seizing a match, he applied it to the nearest cannon.
A blinding flash and a deafening roar was succeeded by a hundred spurts of flame from the darkness beneath us, and the next moment we could hear the hurried tramp and the hoarse cries and shouts of the assailants as they rushed forward to the attack.
Hardly had the first scaling ladder been placed against the wall, when our rascally garrison threw down their arms and bolted from the platforms.
In vain Firestone cut two down; panic had done its work, and, as the heads of the first of the stormers appeared over the parapet, only the colonel, Granville, Sergeant Lawson, and I remained.
Seeing that resistance was useless, Firestone called on us to follow, and, descending to the courtyard, we reached the tethered horses just as the rebels, with shouts of triumph, were driving the panic-stricken garrison into the keep.
Cutting loose our steeds, we mounted, and, with sword and pistol, rode slowly towards the gateway. Here the sergeant unbarred the door and threw it suddenly open, and before the rebels, who were making for the gateway, were aware of our intention, the drawbridge had fallen with a run, and the four riders were urging their horses through the dense mass of men.
Taken by surprise, the musketeers, their pieces discharged and unloaded, gave way right and left, and, although a few pikemen amongst them tried to bar our way, our weight was irresistible.
I have a dim recollection of shearing off the head of an opposing pike, and seeing its holder's terror-stricken eyes, as he went down beneath my horse's hoofs. There was a crackle of pistol-shots, a flashing of steel, and we were through, tearing madly across the broad expanse of common on our bid for safety!