“Amen,” answered Edmund and Rose; and they loosened their hold of each other with hearts less sore. Then Edmund bared his head, and knelt down, and the good clergyman called down a blessing from heaven on him; Harry, the faithful man who was going to risk himself for him, did the same, and received the same blessing. There were no more words, the boat pushed off, and the splash of the oars resounded regularly.
Rose’s tears came thick, fast, blinding, and she sat down on a block of wood and wept long and bitterly; then she rose up, and in answer to Dr. Bathurst’s cheering words, she said, “Yes, I do thank God with all my heart!”
That night Rose slept at Dr. Bathurst’s, and early in the morning was rejoiced by the tidings which Harry Fletcher sent little Dick to carry to the cottage. The voyage had been prosperous, they had fallen in with a French vessel, and Mr. Edmund Woodley had been safely received on board.
She was very anxious to return home; and as it was Saturday, and therefore a holiday at the school, Dr. Bathurst undertook to go with her and spend the Sunday at Forest Lea. One of the farmers of Bosham helped them some little way with his harvest cart, but the rest of the journey had to be performed on foot. It was not till noon that they came out upon the high road between Chichester and Forest Lea; and they had not been upon it more than ten minutes, before the sound of horses’ tread was heard, as if coming from Chichester. Looking round, they saw a gentleman riding fast, followed by a soldier also on horseback. There was something in his air that Rose recognised, and as he came nearer she perceived it was Sylvester Enderby. He was much amazed, when, at the same moment, he perceived it was Mistress Rose Woodley, and stopping his horse, and taking off his hat, with great respect both towards her and the clergyman, he hoped all the family were well in health.
“Yes, yes, I believe so, thank you,” replied Rose, looking anxiously at him.
“I am on my way to Forest Lea,” he said. “I bring the order my father hoped to obtain from General Cromwell.”
“The Protection! Oh, thanks! ten thousand thanks!” cried Rose. “Oh! it may save—But hasten on, pray hasten on, sir. The soldiers are already at home; I feared she might be already a prisoner at Chichester. Pray go on and restrain them by your authority. Don’t ask me to explain—you will understand all when you are there.”
She prevailed on him to go on, while she, with Dr. Bathurst, more slowly proceeded up the chalky road which led to the summit of the green hill or down, covered with short grass, which commanded a view of all the country round, and whence they would turn off upon the down leading to Forest Lea. Just as they came to the top, Rose cast an anxious glance in the direction of her home, and gave a little cry. Sylvester Enderby and his attendant could be seen speeding down the green slope of the hill; but at some distance further on, was a little troop of horsemen, coming from the direction of Forest Lea, the sun now and then flashing on a steel cap or on the point of a pike. Fast rode on Sylvester, nearer and nearer came the troop; Rose almost fancied she could discern on one of the horses something muffled in black that could be no other than her mother. How she longed for wings to fly to meet her and cheer her heart with the assurance of Edmund’s safety! How she longed to be on Sylvester’s horse, as she saw the distance between him and the party fast diminishing! At length he was close to it, he had mingled with it; and at the same time Dr. Bathurst and Rose had to mount a slightly rising ground, which for a time entirely obscured their view. When at length they had reached the summit of this eminence, the party were standing still, as if in parley; there was presently a movement, a parting, Rose clasped her hands in earnestness. The main body continued their course to Chichester, a few remained stationary. How many? One, two, three—yes, four, or was it five? and among them the black figure she had watched so anxiously! “She is safe, she is safe!” cried Rose. “Oh, God has been so very good to us, I wish I could thank Him enough!”
Leaving the smoother slope to avoid encountering the baffled rebels, Dr. Bathurst and Rose descended the steep, the good man exerting himself that her eagerness might not be disappointed. Down they went, sliding on the slippery green banks, helping themselves with the doctor’s trusty staff, taking a short run at the lowest and steepest part of each, creeping down the rude steps, or rather foot-holes, cut out by the shepherd-boys in the more perpendicular descents, and fairly sliding or running down the shorter ones. They saw their friends waiting for them; and a lesser figure than the rest hastened towards them, scaling the steep slopes with a good will, precipitancy, and wild hurrahs of exultation, that would not let them doubt it was Walter, before they could see his form distinctly, or hear his words. Rose ran headlong down the last green slope, and was saved from falling by fairly rushing into his arms.
“Is he safe? I need not ask!” exclaimed Walter.