Chapter 2: Rupert to the Rescue.
About a month after the day on which Rupert had taken MademoiselleAdele Dessin out hawking, the colonel and Mistress Dorothy went todine at the house of a county family some miles away. The familycoach, which was only used on grand occasions, was had out, and inthis Mistress Dorothy, hooped and powdered in accordance with thefashion of the day, took her seat with Colonel Holliday. Rupert hadbeen invited, as the eldest son was a lad of his own age.
It was a memorable occasion for him, as he was for the first timeto dress in the full costume of the period--with powdered hair,ruffles, a blue satin coat and knee breeches of the same material,with silk stockings. His greatest pleasure, however, was that hewas now to wear a sword, the emblem of a gentleman, for the firsttime. He was to ride on horseback, for madam completely filled thecoach with her hoops and brocaded dress, and there was scarcelyroom for Colonel Holliday, who sat beside her almost lost in herample skirts.
The weather was cold, and Rupert wore a riding cloak over hisfinery, and high boots, which were upon his arrival to be exchangedfor silver-buckled shoes. They started at twelve, for the dinnerhour was two, and there were eight miles to drive--a distancewhich, over the roads of those days, could not be accomplished muchunder two hours. The coachman and two lackeys took their places onthe box of the lumbering carriage, the two latter being armed withpistols, as it would be dark before they returned, and travellingafter dark in the days of King William was a danger not to belightly undertaken. Nothing could be more stately, or to Rupert'smind more tedious, than that entertainment. Several other guests ofdistinction were present, and the dinner was elaborate.
The conversation turned chiefly on county business, with anoccasional allusion to the war with France. Politics were entirelyeschewed, for party feeling ran too high for so dangerous a subjectto be broached at a gathering at which both whigs and tories werepresent.
Rupert sat near one end of the table, with the eldest son of thehost. As a matter of course they kept absolute silence in anassembly of their elders, only answering shortly and respectfullywhen spoken to. When dinner was over, however, and the ladies rose,they slipped away to a quiet room, and made up for their longsilence by chatting without cessation of their dogs, and hawks, andsports, until at six o'clock the coach came round to the door, andRupert, again donning his cloak and riding boots, mounted hishorse, and rode slowly off after the carriage.
Slow as the progress had been in the daytime, it was slower now.The heavy coach jolted over great lumps of rough stone, and bumpedinto deep ruts, with a violence which would shake a modern vehicleto pieces. Sometimes, where the road was peculiarly bad, thelackeys would get down, light torches at the lanterns that hungbelow the box, and show the way until the road improved.
They had ridden about six miles, when some distance ahead the soundof pistol shots, followed by loud shouts, came sharply on the ear.Rupert happened to be in front, and with the love of adventurenatural to his age, he set spurs to his horse and dashed forward,not hearing, or at any rate not heeding, the shouts of hisgrandfather. Colonel Holliday, finding that Rupert was fairly off,bade the lackeys get down, and follow him at a run with theirpistols, and urged the coachman to drive on with all possiblespeed. Rupert was not long in reaching the scene of action; andhurried the more that he could hear the clinking of sword blades,and knew that the resistance of those assailed had not ceased.
On arriving at the spot he saw, as he expected, a carriage standingby the road. One or two figures lay stretched on the ground; thedriver lay back, a huddled mass, on his seat; a man held high atorch with one hand, while with the other he was striving torecharge a pistol. Four other men with swords were attacking agentleman who, with his back to the coach, was defending himselfcalmly and valiantly.
As he rode up Rupert unbuttoned his riding cloak, and threw it offas he reined up his horse and dismounted. An execration broke fromthe assailants at seeing this new arrival, but perceiving that hewas alone, one of the four men advanced to attack him.
Just as Rupert leapt from his horse, the man holding the torchcompleted the loading of his pistol, and levelling it at him,fired. The ball knocked off his hat just as he touched the ground,and the man shouted:
"Kill him, Gervais. Spit him like a lark; he is only a boy."
Rupert drew his sword as the highwayman advanced upon him, and wasin a moment hotly engaged. Never before had he fenced with pointedrapiers; but the swords had scarcely crossed when he felt, with theinstinct of a good fencer, how different were the clumsy thrusts ofhis opponent to the delicate and skillful play of his grandfatherand Monsieur Dessin. There was no time to lose in feints andflourishes; the man with the torch had drawn his sword, and wascoming up; and Rupert parried a thrust of his assailant's, and witha rapid lunge in tierce ran him right through the body. Then with abound he dashed through the men attacking the traveller, and tookhis stand beside him, while the torchbearer, leaving his torchagainst a stump of a tree, also joined the combat.
Beyond a calm "I thank you, sir; your arrival is most opportune,"from the traveller, not a word passed as the swords clashed andground against each other.
"Dash in, and finish him," shouted the man who appeared the leaderof the assailants, and three of them rushed together at thetraveller. The leader fell back cursing, with a sword thrustthrough his shoulder, just at the moment when Rupert sent the swordof the man who was attacking him flying through the air, andturning at once, engaged one of the two remaining assailants of thetraveller. But these had had enough of it; and as the lackeys camerunning up, they turned, and rushed away into the darkness. Thelackeys at Rupert's order discharged their pistols after them; buta moment later the sound of four horses making off at full gallop,showed that they had escaped.
"By my faith," the traveller said, turning to Rupert, and holdingout his hand, "no knight errant ever arrived more opportunely. Youare a gallant gentleman, sir; permit me to ask to whom I am soindebted?"
"My name is Rupert Holliday, sir," the lad said, as the strangershook his hand warmly, and who, as the lackey approached with thetorch, exclaimed:
"Why, by the king's head, you are but a stripling, and you have runone of these fellows through the body, and disarmed the other, asneatly as I ever saw it done in the schools. Why, young sir, if yougo on like this you will be a very Paladin."
"I have had good masters, sir," Rupert said, modestly; "and havingbeen taught to use my sword, there is little merit in trouncingsuch rascals as these."
"By my faith, but there is though," the stranger said. "It is onething to fence in a school with buttoned foils, another to bearoneself as calmly and as well as you did. But here are yourfriends, or I mistake not."
The coach came lumbering up, at a speed which for coaches in thosedays was wonderful, and as it stopped Colonel Holliday leapt out,sword in hand.
"Is it all over?" he exclaimed. "Is Rupert hurt?"
"It is all over, sir; and I have not so much as a scratch," Rupertsaid.
"Sir," the stranger said, uncovering, and making a courtly bow tothe old cavalier, and to Mistress Dorothy, who was looking from theopen door, "your son--"
"My grandson," the colonel, who had also uncovered, corrected.
"Your grandson arrived in time to save me from grievous peril. Mycoachman and lackey were shot at the first fire, and I fancy one ofthe horses. I disposed of one of the rascals, but four otherspressed me hard, while a fifth held a light to them. Your grandsonran one through in fair fight, and disarmed another; I disabled athird, and they ran. I have to thank him for my life; and, if youwill permit me to say so--and I have been many frays--no man everbore himself more coolly, or used his sword more skilfully, thandid this young gentleman."
"I am very proud indeed to hear that the lad bore himself so well;although I own that he caused some anxiety to his mother andmyself; by rushing forward alone to join in a fray of whose extenthe knew nothing. However, all is well that ends well.
"And now, sir, as your servants
are killed, and but one horseremains to your carriage, will you permit me to offer you for thenight the hospitality of Windthorpe Chace? I am Colonel Holliday,sir, an old servant of King Charles the First--"
"I accept your offer, sir, as frankly as it is made. I have oftenheard your name. I, sir, am George Churchill."
"The Earl of Marlborough!" exclaimed Colonel Holliday.
"The same," the earl said, with a smile. "I am not greatly loved,sir; but my name will, I am sure, do me no ill service with one ofthe men of Naseby."
"No, indeed!" Colonel Holliday said, warmly; "it is at once apleasure and an honour to me to entertain so great a general at theChace."
"And now," the earl said, "a truce to compliments. Pray resume yourseat in the coach, sir. I will cut loose the horse from the coach,and will follow you in company with your grandson."
Colonel Holliday in vain tried to persuade the earl to take hisplace in the carriage.
The latter, however, firmly declined, and the colonel took hisplace in the coach, and drove off at once, to make preparation forthe reception of his guest. The earl had even declined the offer toleave one or both of the lackeys behind. And when the carriage haddriven off, he said to Rupert, who had stood looking withrespectful admiration at the greatest general of the age:
"Now, young sir, let us have a look at this carrion; maybe theirfaces will throw some light upon this affair."
So saying, he took the torch which had been left burning, andturned over the body of the man he had slain before Rupert arrivedon the scene.
"I do not know him," he said, looking steadily at the dead man'sface.
"I know him," Rupert exclaimed in surprise. "He is a saddler ofDerby--a fierce nonconformist and whig, and a preacher atconventicles. And to think of his being a highwayman!"
"An assassin is a better term," the earl said contemptuously. "Iguessed from their number it was my life, and not my money, thatthey sought.
"Now let us look at the fellow you sent to his account."
Rupert hung back as they approached the man he had killed. In thosedays of rebellions, executions, and duels, human life was regardedbut lightly. Still, to a lad of little over fifteen the thoughtthat he had killed a man, even if in fair fight, was very painful.
"Ah, I thought so," the earl said. "This is a creature of apolitical enemy. I have seen him in his antechamber. So the ordercame from London, and the tools were found here. That will do. Nowlet us get this horse out of the traces. It is some years since Ihave ridden barebacked.
"No, I thank you," in answer to Rupert's offer of his own horse; "asaddle matters not one way or the other. There, now for the Chace;and I shall not be sorry to fall to on the supper which, I doubtnot, the good gentleman your grandfather will have prepared."
So saying, he vaulted on his horse, and with Rupert rode quietlyalong the road to the Chace. The great door opened as theyapproached, and four lackeys with torches came out. ColonelHolliday himself came down the steps and assisted the earl toalight, and led the way into the house.
They now entered the drawing room, where Mistress Dorothy wasseated. She arose and made a deep courtesy, in answer to the evendeeper bow with which the earl greeted her.
"My lord," she said, "welcome to Windthorpe Chace."
"Madam," the earl said, bowing over the hand she extended, untilhis lips almost touched her fingers, "I am indeed indebted to thefellows who thought to do me harm, in that they have been the meansof my making the acquaintance of a lady whose charms turned allheads in London, and who left the court in gloom when she retiredto the country."
Nowadays, such a speech as this would be thought to savour ofmockery, but gentlemen two hundred years since ordinarily addressedwomen in the language of high-flown compliment.
Mistress Holliday, despite her thirty-seven years, was still verycomely, and she smiled as she replied:
"My lord, ten years' absence from court has rendered me unused tocompliments, and I will not venture to engage in a war, even ofwords, with so great a general."
Supper was now announced, and the earl offered his hand to leadMistress Dorothy to the dining hall.
The meal passed off quietly, the conversation turning entirely uponcountry matters. The earl did full justice to the fare, whichconsisted of a stuffed carp, fresh from the well-stocked ponds ofthe Chace, a boar's head, and larded capon, the two latter dishesbeing cold. With these were served tankards of Burgundy and ofsherries. Rupert, as was the custom of the younger members offamilies, waited upon the honoured guest.
The meal over, Mistress Holliday rose. The earl offered her hishand and led her to the door, where, with an exchange ofceremonious salutes, she bade him goodnight.
Then the earl accompanied Colonel Holliday to the latter's room,hung with rapiers, swords, and other arms. There ceremony was laidaside, and the old cavalier and the brilliant general entered intofamiliar talk, the former lighting a long pipe, of the kind knownat present as a "churchwarden."
The earl told Colonel Holliday of the discovery that had been made,that the attack was no mere affair with highwaymen, but an attemptat assassination by a political rival.
"I had been down," he said, "at Lord Hadleigh's, where there was agathering of many gentlemen of our way of thinking. I left Londonquietly, and thought that none knew of my absence; but it is clearthat through some spy in my household my enemies learned both myjourney and destination. I came down on horseback, having sentforward relays. When I arrived last night at Hadleigh my horse wasdead lame. I misdoubt now 'twas lamed in the stable by one of themen who dogged me. Lord Hadleigh offered me his coach, to take meback the first stage--to the inn where I had left my servants andhad intended to sleep. I accepted--for in truth I sat up and talkedall last night, and thought to doze the journey away. YourDerbyshire roads are, however, too rough, and I was wide awake whenthe first shot was fired!"
"Do you think of taking steps to punish the authors of thisoutrage?" Colonel Holliday asked.
"By no means," the earl answered. "I would ask you to send over aman, with the horse I rode on and another, at daybreak. Let him putthem into the coach and drive back to Hadleigh, taking with him thebodies of the lackey and coachman. With him I will send a note tomy lord, asking that no stir be made in the matter. We need not setthe world talking as to my visit to his house; but lest anymagistrate stir in the matter, I will leave a letter for him,saying that the coach in which I travelled was attacked byhighwaymen, and that two of them, as well as the two servants, werekilled, and that no further inquisition need be made into thematter. You may be sure that the other side will say naught, andthey will likely enough go back and carry off their dead tonight,and bury them quietly."
"Very well, sir," Colonel Holliday said. "My grandson will rideover with you in the morning to Ashby-de-la-Zouche. Two well-armedlackeys shall accompany you."
"Oh, there is no fear of another attempt," the earl said, smiling."Besides, your grandson and I could fight a whole troop ofcutthroats by daylight. What a swordsman that boy is! And as coolas a veteran! He is your pupil with the sword, I presume?"
"Only partly; he owes most of his skill to a French emigre, whocalls himself Monsieur Dessin, but who had, I suspect, a far highertitle across the water. He is a magnificent swordsman; and as I wasable to teach the lad a few thrusts which in their time did me goodservice, and the boy has a clear eye, a cool head, and a firmwrist, he can, young as he is, hold his own, go where he will."
"What do you mean to do with him? You ought to make a soldier ofhim. It is the career of a gentleman, and we shall have a stirringcampaign on the Rhine next spring. He will have plenty ofopportunities to distinguish himself, and I need not say he willhave my best favour and protection!"
"I thank you heartily," the colonel said, "and doubt not that oneday the lad may claim the fulfilment of your promise. At presenthis mother dreams of his being a Parliament man, and shining atcourt. But you might as well expect to teach a falcon to dance.Besides, the lad is a soldier heart and soul, an
d has, saving yourpresence, little of the whig in him; and his mother will find erelong, that if he goes to Parliament it will not be to vote as shewishes.
"Besides," he said, moodily, "I foresee changes here which he,young as he is, will not brook. If then at present I decline yourkind offer in his name, I think that the time is not far off whenhe may remind you of it."
"Let him do so," the earl said, "and a commission in horse, foot,or artillery is at his service. And now, with your permission, Iwill to bed, for my eyelids are consumedly heavy."
Colonel Holliday rang a hand bell, and a lackey appeared withlighted candles. Preceded by him the old cavalier accompanied hisguest to the door of his apartment, and seeing that a posset cup ofspiced cordial was steaming on the table, and that everything elsewas properly prepared, left him to repose.