DUKINFIELD HALL.
As was to be expected, the arrival of so renowned a fighter as Colonel Dukinfield, and his bold band of Roundheads, caused more than a flutter of excitement in the breasts of the country folk of Longdendale. Those inclined to the Roundhead faction, were rather proud to stand by and wave their caps and cheer at the brave men who had so resolutely fought against the tyrant King; while the Royalist inhabitants surveyed the soldiers and their Puritan colonel, with feelings akin to hatred seeing in them nothing but a set of rebels who were too vile to live.
Of the last-named class was a stout yeoman whom for the purpose of this story we will name Timothy Cooke. A thorough King’s man at heart, he had no sympathy with any who set themselves up to fight against the “lords anointed,” and as he saw the Roundheads ride past he would, had he dared, and had the opportunity presented itself, have put a bullet into the body of each rider.
“A damnable set of psalm-singing rascals,” muttered Tim to a companion, as the Parliamentary troops went by. “May the food and fodder they get in Longdendale, choke both man and beast. They are of the devil’s spawn, every one, enemies to God as well as to the King.”
“Steady, Tim,” whispered his companion. “They will overhear thee, and then, belike, thou wilt get into serious trouble.”
“Trouble!” quoth Tim. “I care mighty little for anything they can do. The King’s forces will wipe them out ere long; and had I been but half the man I was in my young days, I would have ridden behind the Cavaliers, and struck a blow for His Majesty.”
Then, grumbling at the perversity of the times, which permitted such unseemly sights as that presented by a band of Republican soldiers marching coolly through Longdendale, he jogged off homeward, to weary his wife with his ill-humour.
But the goodman had more to put up with ere long, for after a few days were passed, there came riding into his farmyard, the stalwart figure of a Roundhead. The soldier was a young man, of gentlemanly appearance, and strikingly handsome. He wore his hair cropped close, and his face was clean shaven. He sat his horse firmly, and his well-proportioned figure gave signs of strength.