But Captain Melford burst into a hearty laugh, and cried out: ‘Nay, things are not so bad as that.—Cheer up, my little apple-blossom, and see if you don’t get married before the year is out; and if I can’t come and dance at your wedding, I’ll send you something to remember me by.—But where is your husband, mistress, for I want to see him before I go to bed?’
The farmer, being called by his wife, made his appearance from one of the outhouses, where he had been attending to the wants of his cattle. He saluted the captain respectfully, and waited to hear what he had to say.
Beckoning them both into another room, the captain said: ‘Dimbell, I’ve got orders to march early in the morning, as a big fight is expected to-morrow. Now, I want you and your good wife to take care of this money for me. There’s nearly four hundred pounds in this bag, and it’s too much to carry about, especially when a man may get an ugly knock that will settle him entirely. So do you put it in some safe corner; and if I come out of the fight all right, you shall give it me again, and I’ll pay you well for what I’ve had here. But if I should be killed, you may keep the money for yourselves, and buy a bigger farm with it.’
‘Well, sir,’ said the farmer, ‘I’m sure I’ll do my best to keep it safe, and I hope as how you’ll come back to claim it; for your honour has been a civil gentleman to us, and has kept us from being eaten up by them soldiers, and I’m sure we all wish you might come back safe.’
‘Thanks, my good friends,’ was the reply. ‘And now I’ll go to bed and get a few hours’ sleep.’
The next morning he was up and away almost before the proverbial cockcrow. After his departure, Dimbell and his wife spent some time in searching for a secure hiding-place for the money intrusted to their care. That day, little work was done in the village, for the wild sounds of war came fitfully on the air as the incidents of the epoch-making battle of Naseby succeeded one another through the day. Some adventurous youths, who had followed the Royalist troops on their march, brought back fragmentary tidings of fierce strife and strange confusions, and of how they had seen the king’s carriage, and the king himself sitting in it. As the afternoon wore away, tumultuous bands of men came hurrying through the village and made with all speed for Market-Harborough. Their numbers increased, until it became evident that the Royalist army was in full retreat. At last, when the main bodies of both horse and foot had passed, and only wounded stragglers were to be seen, there came riding into the village a compact body of stern horsemen, who speedily occupied every point of vantage and took prisoners all the Royalist soldiers they found. The post was now in the hands of the Parliamentary army, and it was not long before trembling and terrified Mistress Dimbell was bidden to prepare accommodation for two officers in her house. The next day, fresh dispositions were made, and the village was left in comparative quiet, only a dozen soldiers remaining to prevent communications with the Royalist army.
The third day after, as John Sprayby was returning home from some rustic occupation in the dusk of the evening, he saw a strange figure crawling along under the shadow of the hedge. At first, it seemed like some beast; but as he drew nearer, he heard human groans proceeding from it. Evidently some wounded soldier was dragging himself painfully along, and John went towards him to see if he could render any help. He then saw that the poor man was crawling on his hands and one foot, the other foot being broken and crushed. Approaching still closer, he felt a shock of surprise and grief as he recognised Captain Melford.
‘Why, Master Melford,’ said he, ‘is that you, sir? Oh! what a pity! Here, lean on me, sir;’ and the good-hearted John blubbered lustily as he knelt down and strove to ease the poor man’s pain.
The captain was so exhausted that he could hardly speak, but he held John’s hand tightly as he said feebly: ‘How far is it to Mistress Dimbell’s? Are there any soldiers in the village?’
‘Well, sir,’ replied John, ‘there’s a few of ’em left; but there’s none at Dimbell’s now; so, if you would stop here a bit, I’ll go and fetch somebody, and we’ll make shift to get you there. Perhaps, if we take you the back way over the fields, none o’ the soldiers’ll see us.’