Boscobel: or, the royal oak

Things went on thus for more than an hour, when the voice of Ezra was heard from below, calling out:

"Art thou still here, Madmannah?"

The prisoner heard the inquiry, but did not dare to make any answer, for he felt the point of the poniard at his throat, and Ezra departed.

No one else – friend or foe – came near the oak.

The day seemed interminable – but night came at last. In expectation of the arrival of William Penderel, they had got all in readiness for departure. But what was to be done with the prisoner? That was rather a perplexing consideration, for the king did not altogether like to leave him in the tree. Charles was still undecided, when a signal was given, and peering out from the screen of foliage he could just distinguish three huge figures standing at the foot of the tree.

"The fellow shall go down with us," he observed in an under tone to Careless. "William Penderel and two of his brothers are below. They will dispose of him. Unloose him quickly."

Careless obeyed the injunction.

"Am I to be set at liberty?" asked the prisoner, joyfully, as his hands were unfastened.

"That depends," replied Careless. "The bandage will not be removed from thine eyes, so it will behove thee to be careful in descending."

Meantime, the king had gone down to explain matters, taking the basket and the cushion with him. As he expected, he found William Penderel, with Trusty Dick and John. All three were amazed to hear that a prisoner had been made. Though the task was by no means agreeable to them, Dick and John did not for a moment dispute his majesty's commands, but agreed to convey the trooper to a distance.

"We will conduct him to the roughest part of the wood and leave him there, to find his way out as he best can," said Dick.

"If he gets drowned in a pool, or stifled in a bog, it won't much matter," added John.

Madmannah reached the lowest branch in safety, but he then slipped down and fell to the ground. When he arose he was seized on either side by a vigorous grasp, while a stern voice – it was that of Dick – bade him come along, and keep silence.

"We have got thy pistols," added John, "and we will shoot thee through the head shouldst thou attempt to fly, or give the alarm. So take heed what thou art about."

They then marched off with the prisoner between them.

As soon as they were out of sight and hearing, William Penderel cautiously conducted the king and his companion to Boscobel House.

CHAPTER IX.

HOW CHARLES SLEPT IN THE SECRET CLOSET; AND HOW CARELESS SLEPT IN A PRIEST'S HOLE IN THE GARRET

After the long and anxious day he had passed in the oak, it was with a feeling of indescribable satisfaction that Charles found himself once more in Boscobel House – not in the parlour into which he had been shown in the morning, but in the large comfortable hall – a couple of nicely roasted chickens before him, and Dame Joan in attendance. Careless, who was seated at the opposite side of the table, was quite as well pleased as his royal master, and both did justice to the repast provided for them. Charles, as we have already remarked, possessed a happy temperament, that enabled him to cast off his cares, and with plenty to eat, and a flask of good wine within reach – to say nothing of a black-jack full of strong ale, he desired nothing better – and laughed heartily while recounting the many alarming incidents of the day to Joan.

"What trials your majesty must have gone through!" exclaimed the good dame, lifting up her hands. "The saints be praised that you are here to describe them."

"I shouldn't mind passing another day in the oak," observed Charles, "if I were certain of having such a supper as this at the end of it. I trust the noble tree that has given me shelter may 'scape the woodman's axe!"

Just then the door opened, and William Penderel entered, followed by his two brothers.

"William," cried his wife, with irrepressible enthusiasm, "his majesty expects you and your brothers to protect the royal oak!"

"The royal oak!" cried William.

"Thy wife has so named the tree," said the king, "and I approve the designation."

"Then the royal oak it shall be called," cried William, sharing Joan's enthusiasm, as did his brothers.

"Pledge me in this cup of wine that you will protect the good old oak," cried Charles, drinking from the cup which he had just before filled, and handing it to William Penderel, who received it on his knees with the utmost respect.

"I pledge myself to preserve the royal oak, so far as lies in my power," he said, placing the cup to his lips.

When he had finished, each of his brothers knelt down, and drank the pledge solemnly.

"Your majesty may depend that the royal oak will be well protected," cried Joan.

"I doubt it not," said Charles. "Now tell me what you have done with the prisoner?" he added to Trusty Dick.

"We took him to Rock Coppice in Chillington Park," replied Dick, "and forced him to descend into a deep dry pit, from which he will find some difficulty in getting out."

"But he may know you again?" said Charles.

"No fear of that," said John. "We didn't remove the bandage from his eyes, and disguised our voices. Here are his pistols."

"Give them to me," said William. "I may need them. I shall keep watch throughout the night."

"John and I will remain here likewise to relieve guard," said Dick; "so that his majesty may rest securely."

"No discovery was made when the house was searched by the enemy to-day? ha!" cried Charles.

"None whatever, sire," replied Joan. "Our lady be praised for misleading them."

"Where am I to be lodged, good dame?" asked Charles.

"There is a very fine old bed in the squire's room as we call it," replied Joan – "Squire Peter Giffard, and his father, ay, and his grandfather, Squire John Giffard, who built this house, have often slept in it – but I dare not offer it to your majesty."

"Lodge me where you will, good dame," replied the king, with manifest symptoms of fatigue. "I wish you all good night."

"Shall I attend your majesty?" said Careless.

Charles declined, and preceded by Joan, who carried a light, mounted an oak staircase, which sprang from the further end of the hall.

On arriving at the landing-place, his conductress opened the door of a good-sized apartment, in the midst of which stood a large old-fashioned bed, with rich, though faded curtains. The room, which had a most comfortable look in the eyes of the wearied monarch, was panelled with black oak, and partly hung with tapestry. On the walls were portraits of Sir Thomas Giffard, tenth Lord of Chillington, and his two spouses – Dorothy, daughter of Sir John Montgomery, of Caverswall, and Ursula, daughter of Sir Robert Throckmorton, of Coughton – both extremely handsome women.

Having drawn aside a piece of the arras opposite the foot of the bed, Joan opened a sliding panel in the wainscot, and a dark closet was then revealed.

"Is this the hiding-place?" asked Charles.

"Your majesty shall see," she replied.

And she then opened another sliding panel at the back of the closet.

The aperture thus discovered admitted them to a small square room, which evidently formed part of the projecting chimney-stack, and had small windows at the front and at either side, looking into the garden. It was evident from its position that the room stood over the porch.

"This cannot be a hiding-place," said Charles.