Arrah Neil; or, Times of Old

by G. P. R. James

"Nay, I do not well know," replied the soldier; "but I know one thing--that sweet lady of his was not so far from the field as he wished and others thought. Just as we were moving down, I saw her or her ghost, and a countryman with his hand upon her horse's bridle, as if leading him over the rough ground on the left. Her lord saw her, too, or I am mistaken, for he more than once turned to look, and there were words between him and the prince about it."

The earl put his hand to his brow, in that sort of painful dread which, without taking any definite form, hangs like a dark cloud over the whole range of destiny.

"You saw her near the field?" he said; "you saw her here? When was this?"

"Why, I told you, my good lord--just as we were moving down, about one of the clock," answered Captain Barecolt; "but there is a little cottage, where a shepherd lives, up along the edge of the hill. Perhaps she has taken refuge there; or, it may be, she has gone back."

"God grant it!" said the earl; "I will send up to the cottage to see if she be there."

Barecolt, however, undertook the task himself, saying that in such a piercing night the walk would warm him. But he found the cottage deserted, and though there was sufficient light to guide him back to the spot where the Earl of Beverley lay, the moon did not show herself all night, the darkness remained as profound as ever, neither lantern nor torch could be procured, and it was perfectly hopeless to attempt a search under such circumstances. Weary hour by hour passed away beside the fire, till it died away for want of fuel; but still, notwithstanding all the fatigue that they had endured, Lord Beverley and his companion sat wakeful till the dawn of morning, and during their conversation Barecolt showed a depth of feeling and an interest in the fate of Charles Walton and Arrah Neil which raised him much in the opinion of the earl. As soon as the first grey streaks announced the coming day, Lord Beverley was on horseback with his troop; but there before him stood the parliamentary army, reinforced, rather than diminished, since the night before. It was impossible to approach the part of the field where Lord Walton had last been seen except with a large force; but four pieces of the enemy's artillery were seen, considerably in advance of their line in that direction; and at the suggestion of Barecolt the earl asked and obtained leave to make a charge with his own troop and that of Major Randal, to endeavour to capture some of the cannon. This, as is well known, was effected early in the morning, without much loss or opposition; but the chief object of the earl, the discovering of his friend's body, could not be accomplished.

The rest of the events of that day are familiar to every one. The greater part of the morning was spent in consultations on the royalist part, and in fruitless endeavours to induce the officers to make one great effort against the enemy, till, towards evening, both armies began to retire, the first movement of retreat being made by the parliament forces, which were followed for a considerable distance by the royalist cavalry.

For ten miles the Earl of Beverley joined in the pursuit, but then obtained leave to return to the field, and his sad search began.

It was long protracted, and night was again beginning to fall when a low fierce growl, as he walked along one of the hedges on the right, called his attention to a pit which had been dug at the foot of a small oak tree. A little path ran down amongst some bushes, and hurrying along it, with Barecolt and several of his men, he reached the bottom.

There they found two or three wounded soldiers, who had dragged themselves thither to die; but in the midst was the saddest sight of all. Prone upon the ground, with the head uncovered, lay the body of Charles Walton; but that head was pillowed on the arm of poor Arrah Neil. Her lips seemed to have been pressed upon his, for her fair face had fallen forward upon his neck, and her bosom rested on his steel cuirass, while her left arm hung over him, the hand half clasping his right. Beside them, gazing down upon the poor girl, with drooping ears and tail, stood the gaunt stag-hound, and the faithful beast turned fiercely upon the first man who approached. He recognised the earl, however, and took a step or two forward towards him with a faint howl, and then returned and gazed again on her with whom he had sported in her childhood.