CHAPTER XLVII.
It was a bright sunny morning, when walking forth, as if for some meremorning's excursion, the Earl of Beverley, with Lady Margaret Langleyleaning on his arm, and Lord Walton with his sister, took their way tothe old church in Shrewsbury. Arrah Neil, with old Major Randal, andone or two of the servants, had gone a different way; for AnnieWalton, though the customs of those days were different, did not wishin the midst of civil war, confusion, and bloodshed, to chequer sadderscenes with the spectacle of a gay wedding. One by one they enteredthe church. There was no gazing crowd to witness. All was quiet, andeven solemn; but the bright smile of the morning cheered the fairbride's heart, and lent to imagination an augury of happy hours. Theceremony was soon over; and Lord Walton gave his sister to his friend,undoubtedly with joy and satisfaction; yet he could not refrain onebitter sigh, or forbear from turning his eyes sadly and reproachfullyto Arrah Neil; but that glance was met by so tender, so imploring alook from that fair and speaking face, that he easily read in it, thatto hold her resolution cost her as much as it cost him.
Four or five days passed after sweet Annie Walton had become the wifeof Lord Beverley, and still no news had been received from Bishop'sMerton. The king had returned some time before to Shrewsbury; manybodies of men had flocked to his standard; reports favourable to hiscause had been rife; risings in his favour on the road to London hadbeen rumoured; and news had been received, that under the very wallsof Worcester Prince Rupert's fiery horse had defeated a superior partyof the enemy. Every one began to speak of a speedy advance towards thecapital, and all seemed glad of the prospect except Charles Walton. Atlength the order for preparation was given, and all was bustle andactivity. Lord Walton proposed to his aunt to remain with her he lovedat Shrewsbury, but Lady Margaret answered--
"No, Charles; I will follow you as near as I can; and if I know Arraharight, she would not stay behind. As soon as you know the directionof your march we will set out, and perhaps may be your harbingers toprepare your quarters for you. I fear not, my dear boy. TheseRoundheads are not anthropophagi, and will not eat up women andchildren."
The royal army marched on the following morning, the 12th October; butfor ten days Arrah Neil only saw her lover once, at Bridgenorth, andAnnie Walton only once saw her husband; for, though the king's leavewas given that he should remain for a fortnight more with his bride atLongnar, even love could not keep him from his duty, and love and dutyboth taught her to follow where he went.
No news was heard of an enemy; the march of the king's force wasunopposed, and the only inconvenience that was experienced was thefrequent want of good provisions: for the false reports industriouslyspread by the agents of the parliament induced the people of thecountry to believe that the Cavaliers plundered wherever they went.Day by day, however, Arrah Neil or her fair cousin received letters ormessengers from the army, and this was consolation under anyprivation; till at length, towards the end of October, the small partyof ladies, with the servants that attended them, reached the villageof South Newington, a few miles from Banbury, and obtained lodging ata large old farmhouse in the neighbourhood, close on the banks of thelittle Sarbrook. They were indeed glad to find shelter, for theweather was cold and stormy; and the good farmer received themwillingly enough, and prayed the king might prosper; for the vicinityof a parliamentary garrison in Banbury had taught the peasantry,though somewhat late in the day, that gross tyranny can be exercisedin the name of liberty, and bitter injustice practised by those whohave ever equity on their lips. It was about three in the afternoonwhen they reached the farm-house, and while hasty preparations werebeing made for their accommodation, which the extent of the buildingrendered not very difficult, Arrah Neil stood at the window gazing outupon the fields, the sky, and the stream. Heavy leaden clouds hungoverhead, and shut out the blue of heaven and the beams of the sun; adull grey shower was pouring down upon the earth, dimming the brightcolouring of the autumnal foliage; the stream ran turbid, with a sadand solemn murmur, and the hoarse wind howled as it passed thecasement. Her thoughts were as gloomy as the scene, and something likethe dark shadow which used formerly to come over her seemed to restupon her spirit. The old stag-hound stalked up and put his muzzle inher hand, but she noticed him not; the servants came and went, but shesaw them not; Lady Margaret spoke, but her ears did not catch thesounds. At length Lady Beverley pronounced her name, and Arrah Neilstarted, for the tones were like those of Lord Walton; and she wasturning round to reply when her eye caught sight of two Cavaliersriding into the court. A look of joy instantly spread over her face,and she exclaimed--
"Oh Annie! dear Annie! there is Captain Barecolt, and Charles will behappy now!"
As soon as he could spring from his horse and find his way up thestairs, Captain Barecolt was in the room. He was very pale and verythin, and Annie Walton thought for a moment that he must be the bearerof evil tidings, but his well-satisfied smile soon set her fears atrest.
"What news? what news, sir?" exclaimed Lady Margaret, who had sharedthe apprehensions of her niece.
"None but what is good, madam," replied the captain. "Lord Walton hashonoured me by making me his messenger from Edgecot, where he is nowwith his majesty. No enemy is near; Banbury is about to be besieged,and consequently cavalry is out of fashion; so we shall have three orfour days' repose, for they will doubtless hold out that time fortheir honour; and, to say truth, I myself shall not be sorry for alittle rest, having been let blood pretty sharply since I stood lastin this fair presence. I can bear bleeding, methinks, as well as mostmen, being somewhat accustomed to the process; but this Master Dry, ofLongsoaken, was an unskilful leech, and took so much that there wasvery little left, and I was obliged to lie in bed at Chippenham forten days."
"But you are wet, Captain Barecolt, and fatigued," said Lady Beverley:"will you take some refreshment?"
"Not before I have done my errand, bright lady," replied the officer;"which is simply to tell you that my Lord Walton and your noble lordwill be here with all speed, and to give this packet to another fairlady, in whose cause I have laboured and suffered successfully;" andapproaching Arrah Neil, who had been listening with eager attention toevery word that fell from his lips, he kissed her hand and gave herher lover's letter.
She took and read it eagerly, while her heart beat fast and her brainalmost turned giddy with joy.
MY OWN BELOVED (it ran),--Barecolt joined me last night, delayed byaccidents which he will tell you. He brings with him all the paperswhich were plundered from the cottage of poor old Neil; and they,beyond all question, together with the others we possess, establishyour birth and your rights. I enclose them for your comfort. Show themto Lady Margaret; and, dearest Arrah, remember the promise that youmade to me. We halt here for three days. I will be with you in anhour, not to part with you again till you are the bride of him wholoves you more than life.
CHARLES WALTON.
Arrah paused for a moment or two and leaned upon the table. Her handthat held the letter shook, and her cheek glowed; but there was lightin her beautiful eyes and a smile upon her sweet lip. Then calmlygliding forward to Lady Margaret, she gave her the papers which herlover's letter had contained, saying, "Now indeed I am beyond alldoubt your child."
Then turning to her cousin she placed Charles Walton's letter in herhand, gazing on her face while she read it, with a look calm, but fullof many thoughts and feelings. Lady Beverley, when she had done, casther arm round her, whispering, "My dear Arrah, now I think he has aright to expect----"
"Everything that love and gratitude can prompt," replied her faircompanion. "I would not thwart him even in a thought, Annie. To you,sir," she continued, speaking aloud, and addressing Captain Barecolt,"I owe an infinite debt, which I must trust to those who can acquit itbetter to acknowledge fully and discharge. But indeed, Annie, he needstendance and refreshment. See, Lady Margaret is moved; will you orderhim what is needful?"
"By your permission, fair la
dies, I will even take care of myself,"answered the redoubtable captain: "it is a trade I am accustomed to, Ican assure you; and wherever bread and bacon, ale and wine, are to befound, I am quite equal to find them out."
"Pray do, sir; pray do," said Lady Beverley, and Captain Barecolt leftthem to themselves.
The moments that intervened before the arrival of those who wereexpected were full of agitation. The papers which Barecolt hadrecovered from the house of Dry, of Longsoaken, were carefullyexamined, and the full proofs of Arrah's birth were found beyond alldoubt. Amongst the rest were several letters of Lady Margaret and herdaughter, and a letter from the husband of the latter to his unhappywife on the day preceding his execution. Besides these were severaldocuments, showing that the small sum which had been annually paid toSergeant Nell proceeded from a cousin of the poor girl's father, whohad embraced the ecclesiastical profession, and was the abbot of amonastery on the Continent. He, O'Donnell, and old Neil himself; werethe only persons entrusted with the secret of Arrah's birth; but itappeared from one of the letters of a late date that the Abb? Tyronewas still living; so that, if any further testimony had been required,he could have furnished it. Beneath these papers was a parchment,freshly written, signed and sealed by the king, and countersigned bythe proper officers, reversing the attainder of poor Arrah's father,and declaring the confiscated estates restored. A momentary gleam oflight beamed forth upon her dark fate--how soon to be eclipsed again!
Some half-hour was thus consumed, but then the thoughts of all turnedhappily to the expected arrival of those they loved. Ere an hour afterCaptain Barecolt's arrival had passed, Arrah Neil placed herself oncemore at the window to watch for their coming. She had not gazed longthrough the decreasing light when her ear caught the sound of horses'feet, and in a moment after Charles Walton and the earl, followedby a few servants, rode up at a quick pace. They were accompanied,however, by another gentleman in a black cassock, and a cloak to keephim from the rain, and the poor girl's heart fluttered wildly at thesight. But, still giving way to the impulse, she only paused toexclaim--"Here they are, dear Annie!" and running down to the door,was soon in Charles Walton's arms.
"Dear one! dear one!" said the young nobleman as he pressed her to hisheart, reading her deep love in her eyes; "I have come to put you to atrial, my Arrah, and see whether you will keep your promise frankly."
"To the letter, and with pleasure, Charles," replied Arrah Neil, in alow murmur that reached no ear but his.
"To-night?" asked Lord Walton. "The king's chaplain must return. Allforms are already cleared away."
"This very hour, if you desire it," answered she whom he loved; "yourlightest wish is my law, henceforth till death."
Charles Walton could not reply, but taking her hand he led her to thechaplain, and then conducted him under her guidance to the room above.
We need not pause upon explanations. All was soon arranged anddetermined. After a brief and sober meal, and with none but one or twoof the servants and Captain Barecolt present, the party formed acircle round and the chaplain opened the book. In the silence thatsucceeded, the howling of the wind and the pattering of the rain wereheard, and Arrah Neil turned an anxious glance towards the casement;for, though her bosom was full of deep and strong emotions, there wassomething in the sound that seemed to connect itself with them.Charles Walton saw but her, thought of her alone; and after a briefpause the chaplain went on. Word by word he read the whole servicethrough; the vow was plighted, the ring was on the finger; and, withjoy he had feared that he might never know, Charles Walton held ArrahNeil to his bosom as his wife.
* * * * *
Silence had spread over the world for some hours. It was between twoand three in the morning, and as dark as the grave, when first ahorse's foot was heard coming at full speed, and then came loudknocking at the door. All those who slept roused themselves, and in afew minutes there were steps upon the stairs. The voice of CaptainBarecolt was then heard speaking to the Earl of Beverley.
"The king has sent, my lord," he said, "to order us to draw to arendezvous on the top of Edgehill, near Kineton. Lord Essex is inforce in the valley below, and it is resolved to give him battle. Wewill cut him to mince-meat."
"Tell Lord Walton," said the voice of the earl--"knock at the oppositedoor;" but ere Captain Barecolt could follow these directions theyoung lord came out partly dressed.
"See that the horses be fed instantly, Barecolt," said Charles Walton,"and have them saddled. I will join you in a few minutes," and heretired. His bride rose and cast her arms around him in silence.
"Nay, Arrah, dear Arrah! I must go where my king commands," he said,struggling against the feelings of his own heart.
"I know it, Charles," she answered, in a far calmer tone than he hadexpected; "I would not keep you for aught on earth. But let me go withyou, my dear husband. I shall have no fear; I will stay upon some hillas I did once before, and witness my hero fighting for his king."
"Impossible, impossible, dear girl?" he replied; "this is a verydifferent affair. To-night I trust, in God's mercy, to return and tellyou that we have won the victory and regained our monarch's throne. Itmust be so indeed, my beloved; you know not what you ask."
Arrah paused in sad and silent thought for a moment, and then said,"Well, let me be with you to the last before you go;" and dressingherself hastily she followed him down. Lady Beverley was soon by herside; few words were spoken; all was quick preparation; and ere fouro'clock, with pale, anxious faces, those two fair girls took one moreembrace, and saw their husbands ride away into the darkness. It hadceased raining, but it was bitter cold, and the wind blew sharply in;yet they gazed forth as long as even fancy could show the recedingforms, and then, linked arm in arm, they retired to Lady Beverley'sroom to pray, each asking her own heart the question she did not dareto utter aloud, "Who will return? who rest upon the field?" There wasa faint streak of grey in the sky when they parted, and Anniecounselled her fair cousin to lie down and try to sleep.