Boscobel: or, the royal oak

"Perfectly," she replied. "I have been admiring him ever since I came into the stable. Since I cannot have my favourite steed, this will make an excellent substitute. Where did you procure him?"

"Never mind where I got him," replied her brother. "I rode him at Newport, and lost him there, but he has since been captured from a Roundhead trooper, who might recognise him."

After consulting the king by a glance, Jane said, "I will have that horse, and no other."

Colonel Lane shrugged his shoulders and went out of the stables, followed by the others.

As soon as they were gone, Lutwyche said to the king:

"I don't want to know who you are, but I am certain you are not a groom. Go into the house and breakfast comfortably. I will get all ready for the journey."

Charles thanked him heartily, and telling him he placed entire faith in him, quitted the stable, and proceeded to the house.

CHAPTER IV.

HOW WILL JONES BREAKFASTED WITH THE MEN-SERVANTS IN THE BUTTERY

Entering the buttery hatch, the king found the men-servants assembled at their morning meal. They were breakfasting very substantially on cold roast beef and ale. Concluding that he was the new groom, they asked him to join them, and Mr. March, the butler, who sat at the head of the table, and was treated with much respect by the others, carved him some slices of meat, and bade him fill his cup freely from the big brown jug before him.

"You will find the ale good in this house, young man, I'll warrant you," observed Mr. March, whose stout person showed that he drank plenty of it himself. "We brew no small beer here. You are lucky in getting the place, let me tell you – all the more lucky that our young lady never before had a groom to attend her."

"That's very true, Mr. March," said one of the men. "Mistress Jane would never ride on a pillion with old Lutwyche. This young man may therefore consider himself highly honoured."

"Will Jones I believe is your name," said the butler. "Well, then, Will, you look like an honest young man – a simple young man, I may say – but you may be a very great rogue for all that." Here there was a general laugh, in which Charles himself joined good humouredly. "Nay, I mean no offence," pursued Mr. March. "I repeat, you look like an honest young man, but you may be a Roundhead, and all Roundheads are rogues. Am I not right?" he cried to the others.

General assent to the proposition.

"You see what sort of society you are in, young man, and can draw your own conclusions," pursued the butler. "There may be good fellowship amongst us, or there may not, according as we find you. What are your principles – Royalist or Republican?"

"I am as staunch a Royalist as yourself, Mr. March," rejoined Charles, sturdily.

"Give me your hand. Now that we know your principles, we can trust you, and talk freely. This is a Royalist house. All within it are sworn to the king. Our honoured master, the colonel, fought for his majesty at Worcester, and we should have fought for him had we been there. Our young mistress rendered the king great service."

"Ay, that she did," cried Charles, earnestly – "services he ought never to forget."

"Ay, she's a brave young lady," said March, "and has more spirit in her than many a man. If the king could be saved by a woman, Mistress Jane is the one to do it."

"What has become of the king since Worcester fight?" inquired the supposed groom.

"Thou canst keep a secret, Will Jones? – ha!"

"Ay, marry, can I," was the answer.

"But swear thou wilt not reveal what I shall disclose to thee."

"If an oath be necessary, I swear to keep silence."

"Then learn that his sacred majesty is in this house. He came here yesterday. I recognised him at once, and let him see that I did so."

"Did he admit his high rank?"

"Not exactly – but he didn't deny it. Thou thyself hast seen him and conversed with him!"

Will Jones expressed his astonishment.

"Yes, he went with thee to the stables this morning."

"Was that the king?" cried Will Jones. "I should never have thought it."

"Wherefore not? Undoubtedly the person in question is much handsomer than his majesty is reported, for the Roundheads always paint him in black colours – but 'tis the king I will maintain."

At this moment Careless entered the buttery, and looked around as if in quest of some one.

"'Tis he!" exclaimed the butler, rising.

All the other servants rose at the same time, but Will Jones went on quietly with his breakfast.

"Get up," said March, in a low tone. "I tell thee 'tis the king."

"I am not supposed to know him," replied Will Jones.

"Don't disturb yourselves, I beg," said Careless. "When thou hast finished breakfast, Will, I want to speak to thee."

"I shall have done directly," rejoined the disguised groom, regardless of the butler's glances.

"Was there ever such an oaf!" cried March, in a low voice. "Has your majesty any commands that I can execute?" he added, stepping forward, and making a profound obeisance to Careless.

"Hush!" exclaimed the other. "You will betray me."

"No fear of Will Jones, my liege," rejoined March. "A dolt, but trusty. Your majesty may take him into your confidence."

"He knows who I am, then?" said Careless.

"He does, my liege. I made the revelation to him under a solemn pledge of secrecy. I hope I have not done wrong."

"If a mistake has been made, 'tis too late now to remedy it," said Careless.

"No harm has been done, I can assure your majesty. I'll answer for the young man. Will Jones!" he cried, authoritatively, "dost not perceive that thou art wanted?"

But the obstinate groom refused to move.

"Let him finish his breakfast, and then send him after me to the stables," said Careless, quitting the buttery.

"Is this thy respect for the king, sirrah?" cried March, rushing to the table, and snatching away the plate which the supposed Will Jones had just filled. "Not another mouthful shalt thou eat. After his majesty at once, and crave pardon for thy ill manners."

"He has interfered with my breakfast," grumbled Will Jones.

"Interfered with thee! Thou hast eaten too much already. Begone!"