No Quarter!

“The family here, as anticipated. Your Highness will not be disappointed this time.”

“Ah, wohl. I was beginning to think the lady of the golden locks an ignis fatuus– never to be caught.”

“There will be an opportunity of catching her now; and keeping her, if your Highness so desire.”

“You would counsel making the fraüleins our prisoners then? Is that what you mean, mein Colonel?”

“Their father at least should be made so. There’s every reason and right for it. He your prisoner, taken back with you to Bristol, ’tis but natural his daughters should accompany him, and share his captivity. If they have the true filial affection they’ll be but too willing to do that. Does your Highness comprehend?”

“Quite!” was the laconic response.

The suggestion, cruel and ruffianly, did not jar on Rupert’s ears; rather was it in harmony with his wishes, and half-formed designs. He was proceeding to ponder upon it, having ridden through the gate, when a cry, peculiarly intoned, came from a remote corner of the park, quick followed by a shrill whistle.

The air was still, and sounds could be heard from afar; these being clearly distinguishable.

“Ho-ho!” exclaimed the Prince, reining his horse to a stand. “Sport going on here! Somebody out hawking.”

The hooha-ha-ha was familiar to him.

“Yes,” said Lunsford. “That was a falconer’s cry – the cast-off.”

“Who might it be, Sir Thomas?”

“Impossible to say, Prince. The party must be behind that spinney of Scotch firs. But see! yonder the hawks! Peregrines in chase of a heron.”

“By’r Lady, yes! A splendid caste. Trained to perfection. How handsomely they mount up! Over him now! That stoop and rake, superb. A fig for your chances, master lance-beak. Hey! One of them bound! Now the other. Now down, down. Wunderschön!”

Absorbed in watching the actual conflict, all eyes directed upward, Rupert and his following for a time neither saw nor thought of anything else. No more did they of the hawking party, who, led by the chase, had pushed on through the spinney of firs to be forward at the kill. Only when the bound bird was writhing to free itself, in its last struggles lowering down to earth, did the two parties catch sight of one another. Not so near yet, a wide stretch of the park being between; but near enough for a mutual making out of what they were.

“Soldiers!” exclaimed they of the hawking party.

“Wenches!” the word that came from the lips of the Cavaliers.

“We’re in luck, Prince,” said Lunsford. “You see yonder?”

“Two ladies; yes. Are they the birds we’re in search of, think you?”

“Sure of it, your Highness.”

“Playing with other birds. Ha-ha! Well; suppose we join them at their play?”

“As your Highness commands.”

“Do you know them, Sir Thomas – I mean personally?”

“I’ve never been introduced, Prince; but Captain Trevor – ”

“Ah! I remember your saying something about his – Trevor!” he called back to an officer of his suite, “come hither!”

Reginald Trevor it was; who, parting from his place in the line, rode up, respectfully saluting.

“If I’m not mistaken, sir,” said the Prince, “you have acquaintance with the ladies we see yonder? Presumably the daughters of Master Ambrose Powell.”

“If it be they, your Highness, I once had. But it’s been dropped long ago.”

“What! A quarrel?”

“No, Prince,” answered the young officer, somewhat hesitatingly. “Not exactly that.”

“Only a little coolness, then. Well, perhaps I may be the means of restoring, friendly relations. But first I want you to perform the ceremonial of introduction. I hope you haven’t so far offended the damsels as to render you ineligible?”

Trevor stammered out a negative, at the same time announcing his readiness to comply with the Prince’s wish. He could not help himself, knowing it was more a command than request.

“Come along, then! Let us on to them. You, Colonel, keep the escort at halt here, till I ascertain whether we can have a night’s lodging at Hollymead House. That is,” he added in a jocular way, “whether we’ll be made welcome to it.”

Saying which, he gave his Arab a touch of the spur, and started off at a canter over the green sward, direct for the hawking party.

Of course Reginald Trevor went along with him; though with a reluctance which had only yielded to authority not to be gainsaid. Despite her withering words spoken at their last interview, he still loved Vaga Powell himself – hoping against hope – still had respect for her; and to introduce Prince Rupert was like being a party to the accomplishment of her ruin.

“Humph!” grumbled the ex-Lieutenant of the Tower as he looked after them, some little chagrined at being left behind; “High Mightiness thinks he’s going to have it his own way with yellow hair. He won’t though; unless he do as I’ve counselled him. But ’twill come to that – must, before we go back to Bristol – and I shall carry thither my share of the sweet spoils.”

Chapter Fifty Six

An Introduction in the Saddle

“Who can they be? Not soldiers of the Parliament?”

“No; too much gaud and glitter for that.”

“Sir Henry Lingen’s!”

“Scarcely either. I heard Richard say Sir Henry’s men carry lances. These have none. More probably they’re from Monmouth, or rather Raglan. The old Marquis of Worcester’s greatly given to display; and his son, Lord Herbert. The shining peacock at their head is likely Herbert himself. They are Royalists, anyhow; that’s certain.”

The dialogue was between the sisters, commenced as they caught sight of the scarlet-coated horsemen, who had entered within their park. Hurriedly they talked, and in tone telling of agitation. For it was a spectacle to cause them alarm; King’s soldiers coming to Hollymead could mean no good, but all the opposite. Just the visitors foreshadowed by Vaga’s fears; her presentiment fulfilled after all!

“What can they be wanting, I wonder?” she queried in a half mechanical way. “Nothing with us, hope?”

“Not likely with us; but father. We were wishing him at home. How fortunate he isn’t?”

“But he may come at any time?”

“Indeed, yes. What’s to be done?” The elder sister seemed perplexed. Only for a short while; then a thought came to her aid; and half turning to the groom who attended them, she said, —

“Rees! Ride back through the firs; gently, and as if looking for something left behind. When on the other side go as fast as ever you can; out through the back gate. First round to Ruardean, to the cadger’s cottage. Tell Winny to come up to the house in all haste. Then gallop along the Gloucester road, and, if you meet your master, turn him back. You understand?”

Rees was a quick-witted Welshman, and did understand. Said so; and at once started to execute the order; riding slowly off towards the spinney, in zigzags, with body bent and eyes searching over the ground. Once under cover of the trees, however, he straightened himself in the saddle, and was soon outside the inclosure.

The despatching him had been but the work of a few seconds, and he was gone before any movement had been made by the soldiers, who were still halted at the gate.