Boscobel: or, the royal oak

By this time the fury of the storm had abated. The thunder had rolled off to a distance, and though the lightning still flashed, the rain had entirely ceased.

"The storm has cleared off," observed Jane Lane, in a low tone to the king. "There is nothing to prevent our departure."

"Then we will not remain here a moment longer," he rejoined. "We must deprive these rascals of the means of following us," he added to Careless; "we will take their horses."

"Take their lives as well as their horses. You are dealing far too leniently with them," said Careless.

Fancying all was over with them, the two wretches besought mercy in piteous terms.

"Stand back, then," cried Charles, fiercely; "and do not stir till we are gone, or you will rush upon your death."

The troopers moved back as enjoined, but Careless did not like their looks, and called out to them:

"Further back, or we will shoot you!"

The order was quickly obeyed.

At a sign from Charles, Jane Lane and Dame Gives then quitted the barn, and were immediately followed by the king and Careless, each leading a couple of horses.

As soon as the party had mounted, they returned to the old Roman road, crossed the Foss Bridge over the Coin, and then proceeding for a couple of miles further, turned the troopers' horses loose on Barnsley Wold.

CHAPTER III.

WHAT PASSED IN THE BARBER'S SHOP AT CIRENCESTER

The storm having now entirely passed away, the sun came forth again. Though the district through which they were travelling was exceedingly wild, it was solitary, and that gave it a special charm in the eyes of the fugitive monarch and his attendants. Occasionally a large flock of sheep could be seen among the wolds, with a shepherd tending them, but nothing more formidable.

As they approached Cirencester, which was to be the term of their day's journey, the aspect of the country improved, and they passed two or three large mansions surrounded by parks.

Far more important, and infinitely more picturesque in appearance, was this ancient town in the middle of the seventeenth century, than at the present time. The castle, celebrated for many historical events, had been demolished, but the walls surrounding the town were still standing, and the streets were full of old timber houses, most of which, we regret to say, have since disappeared. Even the old inn, where Charles and his companions rested for the night, has vanished. Notwithstanding these changes, which some may deem improvements, though we cannot regard them in that light, Cirencester (vulgo, Ciceter) is a quiet, clean-looking country town, possessing a half-antique, half-modern air, and boasts the finest parochial church, with the most elaborately ornamented porch, in Gloucestershire. Let us mention that the interior of this stately fabric has been admirably restored of late years.

Passing through the gate without hindrance of any kind, our travellers rode along a narrow street to the market-place. The king was struck by the dull and deserted appearance of the town, but its quietude pleased him.

On reaching the market-place, he halted for a moment to gaze at the richly-decorated church porch we have just mentioned. Not far from the church stood the Chequers – the inn at which they intended to put up – and proceeding thither, the party alighted, and were warmly welcomed by the hostess, Dame Meynell, who was delighted to see Jane, and conducted her and Dame Gives into the house, where every attention was shown them.

After partaking of a light repast they retired to rest. Charles and Careless were of course treated according to their supposed condition, but no guest, whatever might be his degree, fared badly at the Chequers, and they were supplied with some marrow-puddings and fried eels and a pottle of excellent sack. Not caring to sit among the other guests, they went out, after supper, to take a stroll through the town.

Night having now come on, they could not see much, so after rambling about for half an hour they returned to the market-place, and entered a barber's shop which Charles had noticed near the inn.

Not expecting any more customers at that hour, the barber, a sharp-looking middle-aged man, was about to shut up his shop, but he deferred his purpose when the two grooms came in, and one of them – it was the king – seated himself in the chair ordinarily assigned to customers, and desired to be shaved.

"'Tis getting late," observed the barber; "cannot you come in the morning?"

"No," replied Charles, "my young mistress starts early. I must be shaved now."

Trimming a lamp that hung overhead, the barber made all necessary preparations for the task.

While he was thus occupied, Careless, who was seated on a bench, observed the man look inquisitively at his customer, and began to regret that they had entered the shop.

"You have been accustomed to wear moustaches and a pointed beard, I perceive, friend," remarked the barber, as he covered the king's cheeks and chin with lather; "and I am of opinion that the fashion must have suited you." And as Charles made no reply, he went on: "Yours is a face that requires a beard – a pointed beard, I mean, such as the Cavaliers wear – "

"But Will Jones is not a Cavalier any more than I am," interrupted Careless.

"'Tis not an ill compliment, methinks, to say that both of you – despite your attire – might pass for Cavaliers," said the barber.

"We do not desire to be taken for other than we are – simple grooms," said Careless. "Prithee, hold thy peace, unless thou canst talk more to the purpose, and proceed with thy task."

"Nay, I meant no offence," said the barber. "I only wish you to understand that you need make no mystery with me. I am a true man, and not a Roundhead."

He then plied his razor so expeditiously that in a trice he had finished shaving the king.

As he handed Charles a napkin and ewer, he said, in a tone of profound respect:

"I ought to know that face."

"Where canst thou have seen me, master?" rejoined the king. "I have never been in thy shop before."

"'Tis not in Ciceter that I have seen you," said the barber, still in the same profoundly respectful tone; "but in a far different spot, and under far different circumstances. Little did I think that I should be thus honoured."

"No great honour in shaving a groom," cried Charles.

The barber shook his head.

"No groom has entered my shop this night," he said, "and no groom will leave it. Whatever opinion may be formed of me, let it be understood that I am no traitor."

"Nay, thou art an honest fellow, I am sure of that," observed Charles.

"I am a loyal subject of the king," said the barber, "and were his majesty to come hither I would aid him to the best of my power."

"Were thy suspicions correct, friend," said Charles, "thou must feel that I could not satisfy them. Think what thou wilt, but keep silence."

He was about to place a pistole on the table, but the poor man looked so pained that he stretched out his hand to him. The barber sprang forward, and pressed the king's hand to his lips.

At a very early hour next morning all the party quitted Cirencester, and again tracked the old Roman road across the plain.

They had a long day's journey before them, Bristol being thirty-one miles distant from Cirencester, while Abbots Leigh was four miles beyond Bristol. The morning was delightfully fresh, and the woody district they were traversing offered charming views.

After awhile they left the Roman way, and pursued a road at the foot of a range of low hills, and in less than two hours arrived at Tetbury, where they halted. As they had been unable to breakfast at Cirencester, owing to the early hour at which they started, they were now very glad to repair the omission. Jane and Dame Gives, of course, breakfasted in private, but the two grooms, after seeing to the horses, repaired to the kitchen, where they astonished the host by their prowess as trencher-men.

After an hour's halt at Tetbury the party set forth again. Passing High Grove and Doughton, and then riding on to Westonbirt Bottom, they skirted Silk Wood, and continued their course till they reached Didmarton.

During this part of the journey they had met with no interruption. Indeed, there seemed no troopers on the road. On quitting Didmarton they passed Badminton Park, in which, at a subsequent period, the magnificent mansion belonging to the Duke of Beaufort has been erected, and rode on through the woods and past the fine old manor-house of Little Sodbury to Chipping-Sodbury, where they again halted to refresh themselves and rest their steeds.

Their road now led them past Yate, and through Wapley Bushes to Westerleigh. Thence they proceeded by Hanborow and Stapleton, and crossing an old stone bridge over the river Frome, rode on to Bristol.

CHAPTER IV.

BRISTOL IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY