For rebel man, rebellion hide;
Where evil spirits now have made
Their den, let thine own Spirit 'bide.
And change our contests and our wrongs
To holy lauds and peaceful songs.
The echoing rocks prolonged the solemn melody, and every heart was filled with sympathetic submission, devout patience, and humble hope, when their attention was recalled to the present scene by a loud Amen, which discovered a till-then-unobserved participator in their devotions. A lame bare-headed beggar stood leaning on his crutch, while the wind blew his hair and tattered garments in every direction. "Heaven bless you, worthy Christians!" said he; "you have prayed for the King, help a wounded soldier who has fought for his Royal Father. 'Tis many a day since I have heard the old church service, and it has done my heart good; I have drunk to her prosperity thousands of times."
Arthur offered him an alms.—"Oh, young gentleman," said he, "this is like throwing diamonds to a dunghill-cock. I cannot buy a loaf in the mountains, and I dare not venture into any town till I can get some other clothes to disguise myself. I was in the last insurrection, as the rebels call it, and so may be hanged without judge or jury, wherever they catch me; and they may hang me if they will, for they can never make any thing of me but a King's trooper, or else a Tom o' Bedlam."
Dr. Beaumont now advanced to see what measures could be adopted to relieve the stranger's necessities, when, to his great surprize, the man limped forward, and, grasping his hand with ecstasy, gave it a hearty shake. "Ah, my good Doctor, is it you?—'Twas so dusky I could not see your face; and your voice is quite broke and hollow to what it used to be. I hoped Your Reverence was safe and well at Oxford, and not preaching here among the goats and sheep in the mountains, while tinkers and tailors are palavering in churches. Don't Your Reverence remember Jobson, whom you tried to get out of that Squire Morgan's clutches, when the cursed covenant came first in fashion. I could not swallow it, you know, nor will I now, though they were to change my torn coat for a major's uniform. Is the Squire still alive? I should like to knock him down with my crutch, and tell him I bought shoes of his father."
It was with unfeigned pleasure that honest Jobson was recognised by his neighbours. Plans were proposed for his immediate relief, and Arthur hoped he could procure him a protection through the interest of Morgan. "Say nothing about it, Sir," answered Jobson; "I tell you I'll owe him nothing but a sound drubbing, and I hope to pay that before I die, in spite of the wound in my knee; he should have it now if I could catch him; and let me tell you, I am sorry to hear such a pretty-spoken gentleman as you, say you have any acquaintance with such a scoundrel. He has made me hate the neighbourhood he lives in; and I only came into it to see if all was true that was said of my wife; and I find she is gone a tramping with one of the new preachers, and her girls are gone after her with some of the rebel troopers. Let them go, I say, if they have no better fancies than that; I'll hop back to Wales, where an old soldier of the King's is sure to find a nook in a cottage-chimney, and a piggin of warm leek porridge; aye, and a warm heart too, that never will betray him."
"It is not in Wales only," answered Dr. Beaumont, "that there are found warm hearts who revere the memory of their martyred Sovereign, and love the brave soldier who has bled in his cause. My situation compels me to be careful of offending the ruling powers, but we can contrive to make some cavern in the mountains a comfortable place of shelter, till you are better able to undertake a long journey; and believe me, it rejoices my soul to see you display the same firmness in adversity as you did in the hour of danger. In the wreck of your little fortune, you have preserved that noblest treasure, an upright heart. Many who now bask in affluence, would give their ill-acquired eminence to call that jewel without price their own."