All that frank and simple kindness could do, during the next three or four hours, was done by the good woman of the house, to make her fair guest comfortable and at ease. Amongst the most painful periods of life, however, are those when thought and feeling are compelled to strive against each other for the mastery, when the heart is filled with deep emotions, and yet the external things of life are pressing upon the brain for attention and consideration. Such was now Iola's situation, as she sat meditating upon how she should make her way to Lichfield, through all the difficulties and dangers which surrounded her, while her heart was filled with anxiety for Chartley, and for the result of the struggle which she believed might be going on at Fazely.
Twelve o'clock, one, two, three o'clock came; and the cow-boy did not return. At last, somewhat anxious in regard to his absence, the farmer's daughter set forth herself to see for him. She found him in the very act of watching a small body of troops, passing from castle Bromwich towards Atherston; and, having looked along the road as far as she could see, she returned to the farm to make her report. It was now agreed that Iola, and her attendant, should still remain for half an hour, as the girl had seen a number of stragglers on the road; and while Ibn Ayoub went to prepare the horses, the good dame endeavoured, to the best of her power, to give Iola an accurate notion of the various paths she was to follow, to reach Lichfield by the least dangerous roads. Iola bent all her attention to her lesson; but, at length, she suddenly interrupted the good woman in her detail, saying--
"Oh, I know that spot well, where there are the three stone mounting steps, and the great cross above them. One road leads to St. Clare, of Atherston, and the other to Tamworth."
"And the little one on the left straight to Lichfield," replied the good woman. "It is the same distance from each, just seven miles and a furlong. If you were to go on the Tamworth road, you would have Fazely close upon your left. As you go to Lichfield, you will leave it four miles upon your right."
The horses were soon after brought round. The adieus were spoken. The good farmer's wife would receive no recompense for the entertainment which she had afforded to Iola. But a small brooch, which the lady took from her hood, and bestowed upon the daughter, was more than compensation for everything but the kindness and tenderness which nothing could repay; and, with a motherly blessing upon her head, as she departed, Iola waved her hand, and once more rode upon her journey.
CHAPTER XLVI.
On the evening of the nineteenth of August, and at the hour of half-past six, was seen riding alone, through the woodland, then lying about three miles to the right of the direct road from Lichfield to Tamworth, a gentleman mounted on a powerful black horse. No pleasant ride was it he was taking; for by this time, one of those violent thunder storms which so frequently interrupt the brief course of an English summer, and which were both more severe and more frequent when the land was better wooded than it is at present, had broke upon the earth, after it had been menacing in the sky all the morning. I am fond of describing thunder storms, having watched many a one in all its changes for hours; and there is infinite variety in them too, so that a dozen might be described, and no two alike; but, as I have done so more than once before, I would certainly have said nothing of this storm, had it not been an historical one, and connected with an incident of some interest in English history. Suffice it, however, that the thunder seemed to shake the very earth, rattling amongst the trees of the forest as if immense masses of stone had been cast through them by some tremendous engine. The lightning gleamed all around, before, behind, overhead, in amongst the trees, under the green leaves and boughs seeming to display for an instant all the dark recesses of the forest, as if they had been suddenly lighted up by a thousand torches, and then leaving them in blacker shade than before. For the roar of the thunder, for the flash of the lightning, that traveller would have cared very little; but for the increasing darkness of the day, which seemed to anticipate the setting of the sun, and for the deluge which poured from the sky, drenching himself, his horse, and his accoutrements, he did care. Had there been any wind, the rain would have been blinding; but it came pouring down in such torrents, straight, even, unceasing, that what between the failing light, the vapour rising from the hot ground, and the incessant dark drops, it was impossible to see for more than a hundred or a hundred and fifty yards along the road.
Yet the traveller turned his head often as he rode, looking hither and thither, wherever any opening in the wood appeared; and he went slowly too, as if he were in no haste, or uncertain of the way. Still, as he proceeded, he murmured to himself.
"This is most unfortunate. Perhaps 'twere better to go back; and yet, in this blinding deluge, I might again miss the road, and wander Heaven knows whither. What will they think too? Would to Heaven I had brought the boy with me! True, he never was in this place in his life before, any more than myself; but he seemed to have an instinct in finding his way."
He rode on for about ten minutes more, and then exclaimed joyfully: