III.
As we were now to engage in operations to which those that we had already gone through were as child’s play, I thought it well to call all my men together and give them some inkling of what was about to take place. I had no doubt that Captain Holdsworth and his troopers would presently attack us with much persistence, but as my sentinels were already posted to the best advantage, and as we should mainly have to depend upon the strength of the old house itself and of the barricades that we had constructed, I reflected that a few moments given over to friendly consideration of our position would not be spent amiss. I therefore sent John Stirk to collect our forces, who presently met me in the great hall, each man bearing his weapon, and evidently agog with excited interest as to the result of my parley with the enemy.
“Now, lads,” says I, facing them, “we are at last in for some hot work. I have parleyed with the leader of the troops outside, and found him as reasonable a gentleman as ever bestrode a horse, but as firm in his notions of duty as I trust you and I are. He has to do his duty, which is to arrest Sir Nicholas, Mistress French, and myself. We have to do ours, and what that is,” I says, looking quickly from one face to another, “what that is, lads, you all know. So there’s naught for it but for him to attack, and for us to defend. But, lads, since we are all of us volunteers in this matter, so to speak, tell me whether I have done the right thing in refusing to submit? Have I done what my uncle would have done had he been elsewhere than on his death-bed? And have I done what’s good to all of you? Speak, lads.”
“’Tis what Sir Nicholas had done, and it is good to me,” says Gregory, grounding his musket with a bang.
“So say I,” says Jasper.
The three lads said naught, being of a shy disposition, but they nodded their heads and handled their guns, and looked from one to the other of us. John and Humphrey said “Yes—’tis good,” in one breath. But so that we might all know what we were after, I spoke again.
“Now, lads,” says I, “let’s understand matters fairly. We may all very soon be shot or slain in some other way—is there any of you that would like to make his escape while there’s a chance? If there is, let him speak.” I looked at the lad Walter who was youngest of all of us. “What say you, lad?” says I. “Come, speak out—we shall not think the less of thee if thou wouldst like to be free of this business.”
But the lad shook his head, and flushed as red as a peony. “I’m for biding where I am, Master Dick,” says he. “And me, too,” says Peter, “and me,” say Benjamin.
“Why,” says I, “I think we’re all of a mind. So now to our posts, lads, and let’s do our best. They will not break through our defences so easily, and we have the advantage of safe cover.”
And there I was right, and events quickly proved it. When we reached the upper storey, and I could keep an eye on the operations of the enemy, I perceived that Captain Holdsworth was putting his men at various points around the house, with the view of covering those of our positions which previous incidents had made Anthony Dacre already acquainted with. Thus he had placed a squad in the stable, and they were now engaged in piercing the wall at intervals from the inside; several men were in the summer-house across the garden, while others occupied the barn, and commanded the window on the right hand side of the courtyard. I made note of all these preparations, and bade my men observe them with care, but directed that no shot should be fired until the enemy actually came to the attack. I was somewhat curious to see in what mode they would do this, and felt that it would repay us to save our powder and ball until we knew just what was going to be done.
About half-past nine o’clock I perceived that we were about to enter upon the struggle. Some twenty-five troopers were arrayed at our front, finding such cover as they could in the summer-house, behind the wall, and in the rear of the trees. Captain Holdsworth, who had dismounted, was going hither and thither, but it was also evident that something was developing close to the house wall, which we, from our position in the upper windows were unable to see. “We must know what’s going on,” says I, “but how to do it I can’t think.” And, indeed, the thing was difficult, for all the windows on the ground floor were barricaded and strengthened, so that it was impossible to see out of any of them. “What of the garret windows?” thinks I. “I may get a peep from one of them without being seen,” and on the instant I ran up the stair and into a little place immediately above the garden door. I opened the casement, and pushed out head and shoulders, and as I did so I heard the report of a musket below, and felt a sudden sharp pain as if a hot needle had been laid against the skin of my forehead. I withdrew my head instantly, and as I did so another half-dozen of bullets came rattling about the window. “Too late, my masters!” says I and ran, laughing, down the stairs, satisfied with my endeavour. For in the rapid glance that I had taken of the garden below I had seen and comprehended what they were after. From the stackyard beyond the barn they had brought one of the great pieces of timber on which the foundations of a hayrick was laid, and a half-score of stalwart fellows were getting it into position, so that they might batter the door in. As I came to John Stirk’s post again we heard the first blow, and felt the old walls shake with its force. “Let them batter,” says I, and wiped away the blood that ran down my nose from the scratch on my forehead. “They will want a stout ram to break through our barricade,” says I, and I picked up my musket and prepared for action.
As our defences seemed to be most needed at the front of the house, I sent the lad Walter to fetch Humphrey Stirk from his post overlooking the fold, and Gregory from the courtyard window. There were now five of us in the corridor, and to each man I assigned a window, bidding all to shoot straight, and keep under cover as closely as was possible. “And since we’re all ready,” says I, raising my voice, and presenting my piece, “pick your man, lads, and let them have it.” And therewith, keeping behind the wall as well as I could, I knocked out a pane of glass, and took aim at Holdsworth, who was directing operations, partly covered by a tree. The others fired at the same time, and almost on the instant there came back a volley from the enemy, and the garden, from the high wall to our windows was filled with smoke that hung heavy in the damp air. And after that there was no need for us to knock out more panes of glass when we wished to point our muskets, for with the first fusilade the enemy shattered our windows to pieces, and the corridor was strewn with splinters of wood and glass, and fragments of the plaster that came tumbling from the wall behind us.
It was on this scene that Mistress Alison’s eyes fell when she suddenly opened the door of my uncle’s chamber, and came hurriedly towards me. “Back, cousin!” says I, rushing to meet her. “Your life——” But she came on, holding out her hands to me. “Quick!” she says. “Oh, be quick, cousin!” And then I knew what she meant, and threw aside my musket, and with a hasty cry to my men to stand to their posts I took her hand and hastened with her into Sir Nicholas’s room.
Faith! in the days that came afterwards I have often thought, always with a deal of softness, of the good old knight’s death-bed. He lay there, very straight and calm, with me on one side of him, and Alison on t’other, and poor old Barbara, weeping and bemoaning him, at his feet, and thanks to the stout door and the heavy curtain the chamber seemed peaceful, and yet through all its peacefulness there came the thump, thump, thump, of the battering ram and the crash and rattle of the musketry. When I first approached him I think he knew naught, but presently a fiercer discharge, that seemed like to bring the old house tumbling about our ears, called him back to life, and he opened his eyes, and looked at me.
“Ah!” says he, very feeble and low in voice. “So we are at it, Dick?” There was a sudden flash of fire in his old eyes, and a blot of colour showed itself on his cheek, that had grown thin and pale. He looked at Alison, and from her to me again. Another fierce rattle of musketry came from without, and one bullet, glancing from the casement in the corridor, struck and buried itself in the door of the chamber. My uncle made some faint show of raising himself in his bed. “To thy post, Dick!” says he, and suddenly drops back on his pillow, and died as quietly as a child goes to sleep.
“’Tis over, cousin,” I whispers across the bed. Alison looked from his face to mine, and I saw that the girl had a rare faculty of keeping her feelings in control. “Leave us now, cousin,” she says. But since that might be the last chance that I should ever have of seeing my uncle again, I took another look at him and laid my hand on his. Then I turned to the door, and passed from the quietness of the death-chamber into the hell that raged without.
The corridor was thick with smoke: my feet kicked against the splintered wood and glass, or stumbled over the heaps of plaster that were being rapidly piled up along the floor. Faith, the enemy were making hot work of it! But my men were unhurt, save that John Stirk had been struck in the side by a half-spent bullet, and that Peter’s face was scratched by a shower of falling glass. “Stand to your posts!” I cried to them, and ran downstairs to see how the garden door had withstood its battering. I found it safe as a rock—what it might have suffered without I know not, but within, its heavy bolts and bars, supported by the mass of furniture that we had piled against it, still held the thick oaken frame sound, and I felt assured that naught less than a cannonade would break through it.
While I stood in the hall, examining our defences, there came the thump, thump of the battering-ram from the other door leading to the courtyard. I laughed when I heard it, for the enemy might as well have tried to break in through a twelve-foot wall as through the barricade which he was now attempting. The door opened into a porch, and the porch was filled with heavy flagstones that we had hastily torn up from the scullery and pantry floor, and disposed in such a fashion that the whole formed a tight wedge between the door itself and the stout wall facing it on the inside. But secure as I felt about the door, I was not so sure of our ability to direct a smart fire upon the men engaged in battering it. I hastened to the window on the right hand side of the courtyard, and found that Holdsworth’s troopers, stationed in the barn, were keeping up such a fusilade upon us as rendered it impossible for my men to do more than get an occasional shot from a sharp angle of the casement. I accordingly withdrew them to the window on the other side, and from this point we did considerable execution, until Holdsworth brought up a number of men behind the low wall of the orchard that ran between the gable end of the house and the village street, and there directing their fire upon us, we were compelled to retreat to safer cover. However, the door remained as impregnable as that leading into the front garden, and presently the men drew off and there was an interval of peace, after which the fight was continued by the interchange of occasional shots on either side, both of us keeping a sharp lookout, and discharging our pieces whenever besieged or besiegers drew out of cover. And as we were in a much better position than they, we succeeded in effecting much damage amongst them at no cost to ourselves.
About the middle of the afternoon Captain Holdsworth himself was shot dead by Humphrey Stirk as he incautiously made across the garden, where he was evidently going to give orders to the men posted in the summer house. I was sorry to hear this news, for he had parleyed with me in the frankest manner, and had shown some solicitude for our position, but, after all, ’twas the fortune of war, and might have been my own fate, or Humphrey’s. However, there was no doubt that it made matters still more difficult for me, in one respect—if we managed to escape with our lives and fell into Fairfax’s hands, he would not deal any the more mercifully with me because one of his officers met his death in the effort to apprehend me.
We continued to exchange shots with the enemy until night fell, when a cessation of hostilities took place, save for an occasional fusilade when either side showed a light. That was a sad night, for everybody in the house knew that Sir Nicholas lay dead in our midst, and there was none that did not mourn him with much sincerity. As for me I was sore concerned as to what was to come, for I felt sure that Fairfax would eventually reduce us to submission, and the thought of what might then chance to Alison made me anxious. But here again I was somewhat helped by that curious fellow, Merciful Wiggleskirk, who came tapping in the darkness at the little window pane in the scullery, and bade Walter fetch me to him.
“You here again?” says I. “What is it, friend?”
“Master Coope,” says he, “you paid me nobly, and I’ll give you a hint. If you can get out o’ the house,” he says, “do so on the instant. Captain Blackburn is coming in the early morning with more men, and they are bringing cannon with them. Make your way out o’ the house during the night, Master Coope.”
He ran off across the fold, and I shut the window and stood musing in the dark scullery. If they were bringing cannon against us it was all over. “We shall have the old house heaped in ruins over us ere noon!” I says. But since I was not yet weary of life, I sought my cousin, intending to take counsel with her as to our next step.
| Chapter VI | Of my Remarkable Adventures with Gregory and our Fortunate Discovery, of Sir Nicholas’s Burial in his own House, and of my Flight with Mistress Alison. |