"But how long can he defy them?" asked the King. "Can a mere mansion withstand the onslaughts of an army? Nay," he added, in a melancholy tone, stooping to pat the white boarhound which walked beside him, "my Lord Winchester will be ruined like all my friends, and Loyalty House will be but burnt walls blackened beneath the skies, even as so many others which have been besieged and beleaguered by the rebels."
"Speak words of good omen, sir," said Newcastle, who had himself staked (and lost, it seemed) the whole of a princely fortune on the royal cause. "Methought that to-day you did have a more cheerful spirit and a more uplifted heart."
"Alas!" replied Charles. "I hope on this, on that, I trust in God, I believe that my own fate is in my own hands, and that I can make it dignified or mean as I will; but when I consider those who are ruined for me, then, I do confess, I have no strength but to weep and no desire but to mourn."
"Sir," said the Marquess, much moved, "Your Majesty's misfortunes but endear you the more to us; and as for any inconveniences or losses we may have suffered, what are they compared to the joy of being of even a little service to your sacred cause? Sir, the rebels may wax strong and successful, but believe me there are still thousands of gentlemen in England who would gladly lay down their lives for you."
"I do believe it, Newcastle," answered the King affectionately, "and therefore I am sad that I must see those suffer whom I would protect and reward."
They had now, in their leisurely walking, reached a portion of the garden laid out on some of the old disused fortifications of the castle, and looking towards the town.
The ancient earthworks and moat had been planted with grass and trees, and sloped to a shady park full of deer which stretched to the walls of the city.
The castle being upon gently rising ground, Charles and his companions, on leaving that part of the garden which was walled in, came upon a scene that was perfect in English fairness.
It had been a wet summer, and grass and trees were not yet dried or faded; an exquisite sweep of verdure filled the moat, and beyond the emerald lawns of the deer park rested, half in the shadow of majestic elms and oaks and half in the soft light of the sun striking open glades. Beyond was the strongly fortified town; towers, gables, roofs, and spires, interspersed with trees, shimmered in the ineffable glow of autumn, and between them rolled the golden length of the Trent.