All difficulties being thus surmounted the party crossed the bridge—noting that the broken arch had only been partially repaired—and entered the old town in triumph. Under pleasanter circumstances they might have been disposed to halt for a short time at Stratford, and Jane, casting a longing look at the avenue of lime-trees leading to the church, suggested a visit to the beautiful old fabric, but Mr. Petre would not hear of it. Not to excite suspicion they rode at a very deliberate pace through the town, being regarded with some curiosity by the townsfolk, and frowned at by a few troopers collected in the market-place; but as they had passed the ordeal of the bridge it was presumed by those who watched them that they must be well affected towards the Parliament.
Mr. Petre felt much easier in his mind when he got out of Stratford, but chancing to cast a look behind him he saw a couple of troopers pursuing the same course, and fancying they must be following him his fears returned. He mentioned his apprehensions to his wife and Jane, but they treated them very lightly.
For some little time the road pursued by the party lay along the banks of the Avon, and offered delightful views of the town they had just quitted, with its picturesque old church and bridge; but after they had proceeded about a mile they quitted the gently-flowing river, and struck across a wild district that presented but few attractions. However, they were now not far from their destination, but before they reached it the aspect of the country had materially improved.
A large, substantially-built farm-house of the better class, Long Marston looked like what it was, the abode of an unostentatious country gentleman. The transomed windows and arched doorway showed the antiquity of the house. In front was a large pond bordered by trees, and at the back there was an old-fashioned garden, and beyond that an extensive orchard.
Evening was coming on as our travellers approached the house, and coloured by the warm sunset the grey old structure appeared to great advantage.
Of good family, and living upon his own estate, Mr. Tombs, the owner of Long Marston, was blessed with a very amiable, affectionate partner, so that we may venture to say that he was a happy man. He did not keep a large establishment, but lived in a quiet, comfortable style, and was thoroughly hospitable. With his rosy, handsome countenance, beaming with health and good humour, and his stout figure, he looked the personification of a country gentleman. Mrs. Tombs, who was some years younger than her husband, was likewise rather stout, but well-proportioned and comely.
Such was the well-assorted and kindly couple that greeted the party on their arrival at Long Marston. They were very glad to see Mr. and Mrs. Petre, but their warmest greeting was for Jane Lane, who was an especial favourite with both of them. Of course, Mr. Petre had a good deal to tell of the difficulties experienced at Wootton and Stratford, and was congratulated on getting through them so well; but Jane made no remarks, and indeed she was occupied at the moment in giving private instructions to Charles, who was waiting for her orders.
"Don't neglect your horse, Will," she said, in a significant tone. "Groom him well and feed him well. Don't gossip with the men at the stables, but as soon as you have finished your work go to the kitchen."
Charles promised obedience, and took his horse to the stables, which adjoined the house.