Boscobel: or, the royal oak

Their road led through a very charming country, but its beauties were lost to them owing to the darkness, and they were not sorry to arrive, after a two hours' ride, at the picturesque old town of Axminster, where they put up at a very comfortable hostel.

Next morning, after an early breakfast, they quitted the inn, and took the road to Lyme Regis.

On this side of Axminster the environs of the old town were extremely beautiful. Grey-thatched, white-walled cottages skirted the road, and attached to most of these pretty little habitations were apple-orchards, while green slopes in their vicinity, shaded by trees, lent a peculiar charm to the scene.

Very soon the cottages and orchards were left behind, and the horsemen began to mount a lofty hill, from the brow of which a magnificent prospect was obtained – comprehending extensive views into the two fair counties of Dorset and Devon, long ranges of hills, varied in form – some crowned with woods, others wild and bare, or covered only with becoming heather and gorse – and wide deep valleys, through each of which a small river took its way towards the sea.

After halting for a few minutes to breathe their steeds and enjoy this splendid panorama, the horsemen descended the further side of the hill, and on reaching the valley, found a charming little village, nestled among trees, consisting of a few habitations and an ancient church.

Nothing can be finer than the ride between Axminster and Lyme Regis. Two lofty hills have to be crossed, each commanding splendid views, though totally differing in character. Cultivated almost to the summit, and divided into small patches by innumerable hedgerows, the hills have a most pleasing effect. But the prospect is ever varying, and as the point of view is continually shifted, new beauties are displayed.

Our horsemen had now mounted the second hill, and were approaching Uplyme, when a glorious view burst upon them. A vast expanse of ocean, smooth as a mirror, and glittering in sunshine, lay before them; while on the left stretched out a bay, girded by bold and precipitous cliffs. The hills to which these cliffs belonged rose to a great height, the loftiest among them being known as the Golden Cap, on the summit of which a signal was placed, distinguishable far out on the main. The long sweeping line of coast was terminated by the Isle of Portland, which, as the morning was remarkably clear, could be distinctly descried.

Again the horsemen halted for a few minutes to gaze at this splendid view. Careless gave utterance to his admiration, and Colonel Wyndham showed him where Charmouth and Bridport were situated, and pointed out the Golden Cap, of which mention has just been made.

Hitherto Lyme itself had almost been hidden by intervening woods, but after they had passed through Uplyme, they could look down upon the collection of straggling and picturesque houses, built on the steep side of the hill on which the spectators were stationed.

Desirous that his companion should have a more complete view of the place than could be obtained from the road, Colonel Wyndham turned into a field on the right, and conducted him to the edge of a lofty cliff that overlooked the port and the buildings adjoining it.

"That is Lyme Cobb, as it is termed," said the colonel. "There are a few vessels in the port, as you perceive. Heaven grant we may be able to secure one of them for the king!"

When Careless had sufficiently examined the Cobb from the lofty point of observation they had chosen, they returned to the road, and soon gained the narrow and straggling street that climbed the hill-side.

Captain Ellesdon's residence was easily discovered, and the colonel and Careless proceeded thither on foot, while Peters took their horses to the George Inn. A narrow lane on the right led them to a commodious habitation, very pleasantly situated on a natural terrace facing the sea.

On inquiring at the house they learnt to their great satisfaction that Captain Ellesdon was at home, and were shown into a comfortable and well-furnished parlour, where the captain shortly afterwards joined them.

Captain Ellesdon was a man of middle age, with nothing very striking in his appearance, but his features were good, and his manner frank and prepossessing. The captain stood upon no ceremony with his visitors. Though not personally acquainted with Colonel Wyndham, he knew him, and shook hands with him very cordially. By the colonel he was introduced to Careless, and shook hands with him as well.

"Pray sit down, gentlemen," he said, "and tell me how I can serve you."

"You can serve us most materially, Captain Ellesdon," returned the colonel; "and I will explain how. I have just heard from my friend Colonel Bullen Reymes, of Wadden, that you have enabled Sir John Berkeley to escape from his pursuers by procuring him a passage from this port to France. Can you do as much for a far more exalted personage than Sir John, and who is in yet greater peril from his enemies?"

"Do I misunderstand you, Colonel Wyndham?" demanded Ellesdon, almost breathless with astonishment. "Do you allude to the king?"

"I ought to bind you to secrecy, sir, before answering the question," said the colonel. "But I know I am dealing with a loyal gentleman."

"You may trust me implicitly, colonel," rejoined the captain. "But if an oath be requisite, I swear solemnly not to reveal whatever you may disclose to me."

"After this, I will not hesitate to ask you plainly if you can procure a vessel to transport his majesty to France?"

"Do not let the hire of the vessel be a consideration, captain," said Careless. "I am charged by his majesty to offer any terms that may be required."

"Too large a sum must not be offered, or it would excite suspicion," rejoined Captain Ellesdon. "The skipper we engage must be led to believe that his passengers are only fugitive Cavaliers from Worcester – nothing higher. I know a shipmaster who is an honest fellow, and a perfect Royalist, but for all that, I would not trust him with this great secret."

"Is the shipmaster you refer to in Lyme now, captain?" inquired Careless, eagerly.

"His vessel is in the Cobb, but he himself is at Charmouth. He is a tenant of mine, by name Stephen Limbry. Yesterday I chanced to enter the Custom House, and I found that Limbry had just entered his bark, intending a speedy voyage to St. Malo."

"To St. Malo!" exclaimed Careless, joyfully. "The very port to which his majesty desires to sail. Nothing could be more fortunate."

"A most fortunate circumstance indeed," said Colonel Wyndham. "It would seem as if Providence designed that the king should be thus delivered from his foes. You must see Stephen Limbry without delay, captain."

"We will all ride over to Charmouth together," said Ellesdon. "'Tis but a mile hence. Your horses, I suppose, are at the inn? I will follow you there as soon as I can get my own horse saddled."

Colonel Wyndham and Careless then proceeded to the George, which was in the lower part of the town, and they had only just got out their horses when Captain Ellesdon made his appearance, mounted on a stout hackney.

"We will ride by the coast, if you please, gentlemen," he said. "The tide is low, and the sands are firm and good."

CHAPTER X.

STEPHEN LIMBRY OF CHARMOUTH, SHIP-MASTER

A wide opening on the right, at the bottom of the street, led to the seaside, and turning off in this direction, the party crossed the shingles and soon gained the hard sand, which was very pleasant to ride upon. But before proceeding, they stopped for a moment to look around. On the right, about a quarter of a mile off, was the Cobb, in which, as we have already intimated, a few vessels were moored, while somewhat nearer a dozen fishing-boats were lying at anchor, waiting for a favourable breeze. Some little bustle seemed going on at the Cobb, but otherwise the place was perfectly quiet. The huge wooden pier then in existence did not last out the century, and was succeeded by three or four other structures that shared the same fate; but Lyme is now provided with a handsome stone pier strong enough to resist any storms, and large enough to shelter any number of ships. Between the Cobb and the spot where Captain Ellesdon and those with him were stationed rose high banks, covered with trees, amidst which an occasional habitation might be descried. Now there are numberless charming villas in the same quarter.

Having contemplated this scene for a few minutes, the party set off for Charmouth. Harry Peters's services not being required, he was left at the George. Exhilarated by the sea air, Colonel Wyndham and Careless greatly enjoyed their ride over the hard, dry sands – now glancing at the tall, black, shelving cliffs as they passed them – now allowing their gaze to wander on as far as the distant Isle of Portland. But their pleasant ride soon came to an end, and in less than a quarter of an hour they had reached the spot where the little river Char loses itself in the sea. Three or four boats were drawn upon the beach, but there was not even a solitary fisherman's hut on the sand-hills. Now-a-days, this is a bathing-place.

"I have brought you to this spot for a particular reason," observed Captain Ellesdon to the others. "Here Sir John Berkeley took boat on the night when he effected his escape to France, and if we arrange matters satisfactorily, I propose that his majesty shall join Limbry's bark from the same place. No safer spot can be found, I am certain. There is not a habitation within a quarter of a mile."

"'Tis as private as could be desired," said Colonel Wyndham. "And I am sure his majesty will approve of the arrangement."

"It has other advantages, which I need not enter into now," said Ellesdon.

"No; the perfect privacy of the spot is sufficient recommendation," said Careless. "If we can secure the vessel all will be well."

They then quitted the beach, and rode singly along a narrow lane which led them over an eminence to Charmouth.

This pretty and pleasantly situated little town is much changed since those days. Most of the old houses are gone, and have given place to modern habitations far less picturesque, but the general features of the place are the same, and the old inn at which the Royalists put up, as we shall proceed to relate, is still in existence.

As they entered the village, Captain Ellesdon pointed out a pretty little house with a garden in front, and said:

"That is Limbry's dwelling. I will see whether he is at home."

He then rode towards the house, and calling out lustily, the summons was immediately answered by a buxom woman and her daughter, a good-looking damsel of some sixteen or seventeen.

In answer to the captain's inquiries, Dame Limbry informed him that her husband had just gone out, but would return presently.

"He has not gone to Lyme, I hope?" said the captain.

"No; he is somewhere in the village," replied the dame.

"That's right," cried Ellesdon. "I am going to the inn with these gentlemen. Send him there. I want to speak to him on business – on important business, mind."

Dame Limbry promised compliance, and the captain rode off. Not being devoid of curiosity, both mother and daughter watched the party alight at the inn, which was close at hand.

"I wonder what Captain Ellesdon's important business can be," remarked Dame Limbry. "I shall make your father tell me."

"Such fine gentlemen as those can't be traders," said her daughter. "They look like Cavaliers."