Peveril of the Peak Read online

  CHAPTER XXV

  The course of human life is changeful still, As is the fickle wind and wandering rill; Or, like the light dance which the wild-breeze weaves Amidst the fated race of fallen leaves; Which now its breath bears down, now tosses high, Beats to the earth, or wafts to middle sky. Such, and so varied, the precarious play Of fate with man, frail tenant of a day! --ANONYMOUS.

  Whilst, overcome with fatigue, and worn out by anxiety, Julian Peverilslumbered as a prisoner in the house of his hereditary enemy, Fortunewas preparing his release by one of those sudden frolics with which sheloves to confound the calculations and expectancies of humanity; andas she fixes on strange agents for such purposes, she condescendedto employ on the present occasion, no less a personage than MistressDeborah Debbitch.

  Instigated, doubtless, by the pristine reminiscences of former times, nosooner had that most prudent and considerate dame found herself in thevicinity of the scenes of her earlier days, than she bethought herselfof a visit to the ancient house-keeper of Martindale Castle, DameEllesmere by name, who, long retired from active service, resided atthe keeper's lodge, in the west thicket, with her nephew, Lance Outram,subsisting upon the savings of her better days, and on a small pensionallowed by Sir Geoffrey to her age and faithful services.

  Now Dame Ellesmere and Mistress Deborah had not by any means beenformerly on so friendly a footing, as this haste to visit her mightbe supposed to intimate. But years had taught Deborah to forget andforgive; or perhaps she had no special objection, under cover of a visitto Dame Ellesmere, to take the chance of seeing what changes time hadmade on her old admirer the keeper. Both inhabitants were in the cottagewhen, after having seen her master set forth on his expedition to theCastle, Mistress Debbitch, dressed in her very best gown, footed itthrough gutter, and over stile, and by pathway green, to knock at theirdoor, and to lift the hatch at the hospitable invitation which bade hercome in.

  Dame Ellesmere's eyes were so often dim, that, even with the aid ofspectacles, she failed to recognise, in the portly and mature personagewho entered their cottage, the tight well-made lass, who, presumingon her good looks and flippant tongue, had so often provoked her byinsubordination; and her former lover, the redoubted Lance, not beingconscious that ale had given rotundity to his own figure, which wasformerly so slight and active, and that brandy had transferred tohis nose the colour which had once occupied his cheeks, was unable todiscover that Deborah's French cap, composed of sarsenet and Brusselslace, shaded the features which had so often procured him a rebuke fromDr. Dummerar, for suffering his eyes, during the time of prayers, towander to the maid-servants' bench.

  In brief, the blushing visitor was compelled to make herself known;and when known, was received by aunt and nephew with the most sincerecordiality.

  The home-brewed was produced; and, in lieu of more vulgar food, a fewslices of venison presently hissed in the frying pan, giving strong roomfor inference that Lance Outram, in his capacity of keeper, neglectednot his own cottage when he supplied the larder at the Castle. A modestsip of the excellent Derbyshire ale, and a taste of the highly-seasonedhash, soon placed Deborah entirely at home with her old acquaintance.

  Having put all necessary questions, and received all suitable answers,respecting the state of the neighbourhood, and such of her own friendsas continued to reside there, the conversation began rather to flag,until Deborah found the art of again re-newing its interest, bycommunicating to her friends the dismal intelligence that they must soonlook for deadly bad news from the Castle; for that her present master,Major Bridgenorth, had been summoned, by some great people from London,to assist in taking her old master, Sir Geoffrey; and that all MasterBridgenorth's servants, and several other persons whom she named,friends and adherents of the same interest, had assembled a force tosurprise the Castle; and that as Sir Geoffrey was now so old, and goutywithal, it could not be expected he should make the defence he was wont;and then he was known to be so stout-hearted, that it was not to besupposed that he would yield up without stroke of sword; and then if hewas killed, as he was like to be, amongst them that liked never a boneof his body, and now had him at their mercy, why, in that case, she,Dame Deborah, would look upon Lady Peveril as little better than a deadwoman; and undoubtedly there would be a general mourning through allthat country, where they had such great kin; and silks were likely torise on it, as Master Lutestring, the mercer of Chesterfield, was liketo feel in his purse bottom. But for her part, let matters wag how theywould, an if Master Julian Peveril was to come to his own, she couldgive as near a guess as e'er another who was likely to be Lady atMartindale.

  The text of this lecture, or, in other words, the fact that Bridgenorthwas gone with a party to attack Sir Geoffrey Peveril in his own Castleof Martindale, sounded so stunningly strange in the ears of those oldretainers of his family, that they had no power either to attend toMistress Deborah's inferences, or to interrupt the velocity of speechwith which she poured them forth. And when at length she made abreathless pause, all that poor Dame Ellesmere could reply, was theemphatic question, "Bridgenorth brave Peveril of the Peak!--Is the womanmad?"

  "Come, come, dame," said Deborah, "woman me no more than I woman you.I have not been called Mistress at the head of the table for so manyyears, to be woman'd here by you. And for the news, it is as true asthat you are sitting there in a white hood, who will wear a black oneere long."

  "Lance Outram," said the old woman, "make out, if thou be'st a man, andlisten about if aught stirs up at the Castle."

  "If there should," said Outram, "I am even too long here;" and he caughtup his crossbow, and one or two arrows, and rushed out of the cottage.

  "Well-a-day!" said Mistress Deborah, "see if my news have not frightenedaway Lance Outram too, whom they used to say nothing could start. But donot take on so, dame; for I dare say if the Castle and the lands passto my new master, Major Bridgenorth, as it is like they will--for I haveheard that he has powerful debts over the estate--you shall have my goodword with him, and I promise you he is no bad man; something preciseabout preaching and praying, and about the dress which one should wear,which, I must own, beseems not a gentleman, as, to be sure, every womanknows best what becomes her. But for you, dame, that wear a prayer-bookat your girdle, with your housewife-case, and never change the fashionof your white hood, I dare say he will not grudge you the little matteryou need, and are not able to win."

  "Out, sordid jade!" exclaimed Dame Ellesmere, her very flesh quiveringbetwixt apprehension and anger, "and hold your peace this instant, or Iwill find those that shall flay the very hide from thee with dog-whips.Hast thou ate thy noble master's bread, not only to betray his trust,and fly from his service, but wouldst thou come here, like an ill-omenedbird as thou art, to triumph over his downfall?"

  "Nay, dame," said Deborah, over whom the violence of the old woman hadobtained a certain predominance; "it is not I that say it--only thewarrant of the Parliament folks."

  "I thought we had done with their warrants ever since the blessedtwenty-ninth of May," said the old housekeeper of Martindale Castle;"but this I tell thee, sweetheart, that I have seen such warrantscrammed, at the sword's point, down the throats of them that broughtthem; and so shall this be, if there is one true man left to drink ofthe Dove."

  As she spoke, Lance Outram re-entered the cottage. "Naunt," he said indismay, "I doubt it is true what she says. The beacon tower is as blackas my belt. No Pole-star of Peveril. What does that betoken?"

  "Death, ruin, and captivity," exclaimed old Ellesmere. "Make for theCastle, thou knave. Thrust in thy great body. Strike for the house thatbred thee and fed thee; and if thou art buried under the ruins, thoudiest a man's death."

  "Nay, naunt, I shall not be slack," answered Outram. "But here comefolks that I warrant can tell us more on't."

  One or two of the female servants, who had fled from the Castle duringthe alarm, now rushed in with vario
us reports of the case; but allagreeing that a body of armed men were in possession of the Castle,and that Major Bridgenorth had taken young Master Julian prisoner, andconveyed him down to Moultrassie Hall, with his feet tied under thebelly of the nag--a shameful sight to be seen--and he so well born andso handsome.

  Lance scratched his head; and though feeling the duty incumbent upon himas a faithful servant, which was indeed specially dinned into him by thecries and exclamations of his aunt, he seemed not a little dubious howto conduct himself. "I would to God, naunt," he said at last, "that oldWhitaker were alive now, with his long stories about Marston Moor andEdge Hill, that made us all yawn our jaws off their hinges, in spite ofbroiled rashers and double beer! When a man is missed, he is moaned, asthey say; and I would rather than a broad piece he had been here to havesorted this matter, for it is clean out of my way as a woodsman, thathave no skill of war. But dang it, if old Sir Geoffrey go to the wallwithout a knock for it!--Here you, Nell"--(speaking to one of thefugitive maidens from the Castle)--"but, no--you have not the heart of acat, and are afraid of your own shadow by moonlight--But, Cis, you area stout-hearted wench, and know a buck from a bullfinch. Hark thee, Cis,as you would wish to be married, get up to the Castle again, and getthee in--thou best knowest where--for thou hast oft gotten out ofpostern to a dance or junketing, to my knowledge--Get thee back to theCastle, as ye hope to be married--See my lady--they cannot hinder theeof that--my lady has a head worth twenty of ours--If I am to gatherforce, light up the beacon for a signal; and spare not a tar barrelon't. Thou mayst do it safe enough. I warrant the Roundheads busy withdrink and plunder.--And, hark thee, say to my lady I am gone down tothe miners' houses at Bonadventure. The rogues were mutinying for theirwages but yesterday; they will be all ready for good or bad. Let hersend orders down to me; or do you come yourself, your legs are longenough."

  "Whether they are or not, Master Lance (and you know nothing of thematter), they shall do your errand to-night, for love of the old knightand his lady."

  So Cisly Sellok, a kind of Derbyshire Camilla, who had won the smockat the foot-race at Ashbourne, sprung forward towards the Castle with aspeed which few could have equalled.

  "There goes a mettled wench," said Lance; "and now, naunt, give me theold broadsword--it is above the bed-head--and my wood-knife; and I shalldo well enough."

  "And what is to become of me?" bleated the unfortunate Mistress DeborahDebbitch.

  "You must remain here with my aunt, Mistress Deb; and, for oldacquaintance' sake, she will take care no harm befalls you; but takeheed how you attempt to break bounds."

  So saying, and pondering in his own mind the task which he hadundertaken, the hardy forester strode down the moonlight glade, scarcelyhearing the blessings and cautions which Dame Ellesmere kept showeringafter him. His thoughts were not altogether warlike. "What a tight anklethe jade hath!--she trips it like a doe in summer over dew. Well, buthere are the huts--Let us to this gear.--Are ye all asleep, you dammers,sinkers, and drift-drivers? turn out, ye subterranean badgers. Here isyour master, Sir Geoffrey, dead, for aught ye know or care. Do not yousee the beacon is unlit, and you sit there like so many asses?"

  "Why," answered one of the miners, who now began to come out of theirhuts--

  "An he be dead, He will eat no more bread."

  "And you are like to eat none neither," said Lance; "for the works willbe presently stopped, and all of you turned off."

  "Well, and what of it, Master Lance? As good play for nought as workfor nought. Here is four weeks we have scarce seen the colour of SirGeoffrey's coin; and you ask us to care whether he be dead or in life?For you, that goes about, trotting upon your horse, and doing for workwhat all men do for pleasure, it may be well enough; but it is anothermatter to be leaving God's light, and burrowing all day and night indarkness, like a toad in a hole--that's not to be done for nought, Itrow; and if Sir Geoffrey is dead, his soul will suffer for't; and ifhe's alive, we'll have him in the Barmoot Court."

  "Hark ye, gaffer," said Lance, "and take notice, my mates, all of you,"for a considerable number of these rude and subterranean people had nowassembled to hear the discussion--"Has Sir Geoffrey, think you, ever puta penny in his pouch out of this same Bonadventure mine?"

  "I cannot say as I think he has," answered old Ditchley, the party whomaintained the controversy.

  "Answer on your conscience, though it be but a leaden one. Do not youknow that he hath lost a good penny?"

  "Why, I believe he may," said Gaffer Ditchley. "What then!--lose to-day,win to-morrow--the miner must eat in the meantime."

  "True; but what will you eat when Master Bridgenorth gets the land, thatwill not hear of a mine being wrought on his own ground? Will he work onat dead loss, think ye?" demanded trusty Lance.

  "Bridgenorth?--he of Moultrassie Hall, that stopped the great FelicityWork, on which his father laid out, some say, ten thousand pounds,and never got in a penny? Why, what has he to do with Sir Geoffrey'sproperty down here at Bonadventure? It was never his, I trow."

  "Nay, what do I know?" answered Lance, who saw the impression he hadmade. "Law and debt will give him half Derbyshire, I think, unless youstand by old Sir Geoffrey."

  "But if Sir Geoffrey be dead," said Ditchley cautiously, "what good willour standing by do to him?"

  "I did not say he was dead, but only as bad as dead; in the hands of theRoundheads--a prisoner up yonder, at his own Castle," said Lance;"and will have his head cut off, like the good Earl of Derby's atBolton-le-Moors."

  "Nay, then, comrades," said Gaffer Ditchley, "an it be as Master Lancesays, I think we should bear a hand for stout old Sir Geoffrey, againsta low-born mean-spirited fellow like Bridgenorth, who shut up a shafthad cost thousands, without getting a penny profit on't. So hurra forSir Geoffrey, and down with the Rump! But hold ye a blink--hold"--(andthe waving of his hand stopped the commencing cheer)--"Hark ye, MasterLance, it must be all over, for the beacon is as black as night; and youknow yourself that marks the Lord's death."

  "It will kindle again in an instant," said Lance; internally adding, "Ipray to God it may!--It will kindle in an instant--lack of fuel, and theconfusion of the family."

  "Ay, like enow, like enow," said Ditchley; "but I winna budge till I seeit blazing."

  "Why then, there a-goes!" said Lance. "Thank thee, Cis--thank thee, mygood wench.--Believe your own eyes, my lads, if you will not believeme; and now hurra for Peveril of the Peak--the King and his friends--anddown with Rumps and Roundheads!"

  The sudden rekindling of the beacon had all the effect which Lance couldhave desired upon the minds of his rude and ignorant hearers, who, intheir superstitious humour, had strongly associated the Polar-star ofPeveril with the fortunes of the family. Once moved, according to thenational character of their countrymen, they soon became enthusiastic;and Lance found himself at the head of thirty stout fellows and upwards,armed with their pick-axes, and ready to execute whatever task he shouldimpose on them.

  Trusting to enter the Castle by the postern, which had served toaccommodate himself and other domestics upon an emergency, his onlyanxiety was to keep his march silent; and he earnestly recommended tohis followers to reserve their shouts for the moment of the attack. Theyhad not advanced far on their road to the Castle, when Cisly Sellok metthem so breathless with haste, that the poor girl was obliged to throwherself into Master Lance's arms.

  "Stand up, my mettled wench," said he, giving her a sly kiss at the sametime, "and let us know what is going on up at the Castle."

  "My lady bids you, as you would serve God and your master, not tocome up to the Castle, which can but make bloodshed; for she says SirGeoffrey is lawfully in hand, and that he must bide the issue; and thathe is innocent of what he is charged with, and is going up to speak forhimself before King and Council, and she goes up with him. And besides,they have found out the postern, the Roundhead rogues; for two of themsaw me when I went out of door, and chased me; but I showed them a fairpair of heels."

  "As ever dashe
d dew from the cowslip," said Lance. "But what the foulfiend is to be done? for if they have secured the postern, I know nothow the dickens we can get in."

  "All is fastened with bolt and staple, and guarded with gun and pistol,at the Castle," quoth Cisly; "and so sharp are they, that they nighcaught me coming with my lady's message, as I told you. But my ladysays, if you could deliver her son, Master Julian, from Bridgenorth,that she would hold it good service."

  "What!" said Lance, "is young master at the Castle? I taught him toshoot his first shaft. But how to get in!"

  "He was at the Castle in the midst of the ruffle, but old Bridgenorthhas carried him down prisoner to the hall," answered Cisly. "There wasnever faith nor courtesy in an old Puritan who never had pipe and taborin his house since it was built."

  "Or who stopped a promising mine," said Ditchley, "to save a fewthousand pounds, when he might have made himself as rich as Lord ofChatsworth, and fed a hundred good fellows all the whilst."

  "Why, then," said Lance, "since you are all of a mind, we will go drawthe cover for the old badger; and I promise you that the Hall is notlike one of your real houses of quality where the walls are as thick aswhinstone-dikes, but foolish brick-work, that your pick-axes will workthrough as if it were cheese. Huzza once more for Peveril of the Peak!down with Bridgenorth, and all upstart cuckoldly Roundheads!"

  Having indulged the throats of his followers with one buxom huzza, Lancecommanded them to cease their clamours, and proceeded to conduct them,by such paths as seemed the least likely to be watched, to the courtyardof Moultrassie Hall. On the road they were joined by several stoutyeoman farmers, either followers of the Peveril family, or friends tothe High Church and Cavalier party; most of whom, alarmed by the newswhich began to fly fast through the neighbourhood, were armed with swordand pistol.

  Lance Outram halted his party, at the distance, as he himself describedit, of a flight-shot from the house, and advanced, alone, and insilence, to reconnoitre; and having previously commanded Ditchley andhis subterranean allies to come to his assistance whenever he shouldwhistle, he crept cautiously forward, and soon found that those whom hecame to surprise, true to the discipline which had gained their partysuch decided superiority during the Civil War, had posted a sentinel,who paced through the courtyard, piously chanting a psalm-tune, whilehis arms, crossed on his bosom, supported a gun of formidable length.

  "Now, a true solder," said Lance Outram to himself, "would put a stop tothy snivelling ditty, by making a broad arrow quiver in your heart, andno great alarm given. But, dang it, I have not the right spirit for asoldier--I cannot fight a man till my blood's up; and for shooting himfrom behind a wall it is cruelly like to stalking a deer. I'll e'en facehim, and try what to make of him."

  With this doughty resolution, and taking no farther care to concealhimself, he entered the courtyard boldly, and was making forward to thefront door of the hall, as a matter of course. But the old Cromwellian,who was on guard, had not so learned his duty. "Who goes there?--Stand,friend--stand; or, verily, I will shoot thee to death!" were challengeswhich followed each other quick, the last being enforced by thelevelling and presenting the said long-barrelled gun with which he wasarmed.

  "Why, what a murrain!" answered Lance. "Is it your fashion togo a-shooting at this time o' night? Why, this is but a time forbat-fowling."

  "Nay, but hark thee, friend," said the experienced sentinel, "I am noneof those who do this work negligently. Thou canst not snare me with thycrafty speech, though thou wouldst make it to sound simple in mine ear.Of a verity I will shoot, unless thou tell thy name and business."

  "Name!" said Lance; "why, what a dickens should it be but RobinRound--honest Robin of Redham; and for business, an you must needs know,I come on a message from some Parliament man, up yonder at the Castle,with letters for worshipful Master Bridgenorth of Moultrassie Hall; andthis be the place, as I think; though why ye be marching up and down athis door, like the sign of a Red Man, with your old firelock there, Icannot so well guess."

  "Give me the letters, my friend," said the sentinel, to whom thisexplanation seemed very natural and probable, "and I will cause themforthwith to be delivered into his worship's own hand."

  Rummaging in his pockets, as if to pull out the letters which neverexisted, Master Lance approached within the sentinel's piece, and,before he was aware, suddenly seized him by the collar, whistled sharpand shrill, and exerting his skill as a wrestler, for which he had beendistinguished in his youth, he stretched his antagonist on his back--themusket for which they struggled going off in the fall.

  The miners rushed into the courtyard at Lance's signal; and hopeless anylonger of prosecuting his design in silence, Lance commanded two of themto secure the prisoner, and the rest to cheer loudly, and attack thedoor of the house. Instantly the courtyard of the mansion rang withthe cry of "Peveril of the Peak for ever!" with all the abuse which theRoyalists had invented to cast upon the Roundheads, during so many yearsof contention; and at the same time, while some assailed the door withtheir mining implements, others directed their attack against the angle,where a kind of porch joined to the main front of the building; andthere, in some degree protected by the projection of the wall, and of abalcony which overhung the porch, wrought in more security, as well aswith more effect, than the others; for the doors being of oak, thicklystudded with nails, offered a more effectual resistance to violence thanthe brick-work.

  The noise of this hubbub on the outside, soon excited wild alarm andtumult within. Lights flew from window to window, and voices were hearddemanding the cause of the attack; to which the party cries of thosewho were in the courtyard afforded a sufficient, or at least the onlyanswer, which was vouchsafed. At length the window of a projectingstaircase opened, and the voice of Bridgenorth himself demandedauthoritatively what the tumult meant, and commanded the rioters todesist, upon their own proper and immediate peril.

  "We want our young master, you canting old thief," was the reply; "andif we have him not instantly, the topmost stone of your house shall lieas low as the foundation."

  "We shall try that presently," said Bridgenorth; "for if there isanother blow struck against the walls of my peaceful house, I will firemy carabine among you, and your blood be upon your own head. I have ascore of friends, well armed with musket and pistol, to defend my house;and we have both the means and heart, with Heaven's assistance, to repayany violence you can offer."

  "Master Bridgenorth," replied Lance, who, though no soldier, wassportsman enough to comprehend the advantage which those under cover,and using firearms, must necessarily have over his party, exposed totheir aim, in a great measure, and without means of answering theirfire,--"Master Bridgenorth, let us crave parley with you, and fairconditions. We desire to do you no evil, but will have back our youngmaster; it is enough that you have got our old one and his lady. It isfoul chasing to kill hart, hind, and fawn; and we will give you somelight on the subject in an instant."

  This speech was followed by a great crash amongst the lower windows ofthe house, according to a new species of attack which had been suggestedby some of the assailants.

  "I would take the honest fellow's word, and let young Peveril go," saidone of the garrison, who, carelessly yawning, approached on the insideof the post at which Bridgenorth had stationed himself.

  "Are you mad?" said Bridgenorth; "or do you think me poor enough inspirit to give up the advantages I now possess over the family ofPeveril, for the awe of a parcel of boors, whom the first discharge willscatter like chaff before the whirlwind?"

  "Nay," answered the speaker, who was the same individual that had struckJulian by his resemblance to the man who called himself Ganlesse, "Ilove a dire revenge, but we shall buy it somewhat too dear if theserascals set the house on fire, as they are like to do, while you areparleying from the window. They have thrown torches or firebrandsinto the hall; and it is all our friends can do to keep the flame fromcatching the wainscoting, which is old and dry."

  "Now, may Heaven judge
thee for thy lightness of spirit," answeredBridgenorth; "one would think mischief was so properly thy element, thatto thee it was indifferent whether friend or foe was the sufferer."

  So saying, he ran hastily downstairs towards the hall, into which,through broken casements, and betwixt the iron bars, which preventedhuman entrance, the assailants had thrust lighted straw, sufficient toexcite much smoke and some fire, and to throw the defenders of the houseinto great confusion; insomuch, that of several shots fired hastily fromthe windows, little or no damage followed to the besiegers, who, gettingwarm on the onset, answered the hostile charges with loud shouts of"Peveril for ever!" and had already made a practicable breach throughthe brick-wall of the tenement, through which Lance, Ditchley, andseveral of the most adventurous among their followers, made their wayinto the hall.

  The complete capture of the house remained, however, as far off as ever.The defenders mixed with much coolness and skill that solemn and deepspirit of enthusiasm which sets life at less than nothing, in comparisonto real or supposed duty. From the half-open doors which led into thehall, they maintained a fire which began to grow fatal. One miner wasshot dead; three or four were wounded; and Lance scarce knew whetherhe should draw his forces from the house, and leave it a prey to theflames, or, making a desperate attack on the posts occupied by thedefenders, try to obtain unmolested possession of the place. Atthis moment, his course of conduct was determined by an unexpectedoccurrence, of which it is necessary to trace the cause.

  Julian Peveril had been, like other inhabitants of Moultrassie Hall onthat momentous night, awakened by the report of the sentinel's musket,followed by the shouts of his father's vassals and followers; of whichhe collected enough to guess that Bridgenorth's house was attacked witha view to his liberation. Very doubtful of the issue of such an attempt,dizzy with the slumber from which he had been so suddenly awakened,and confounded with the rapid succession of events to which he had beenlately a witness, he speedily put on a part of his clothes, and hastenedto the window of his apartment. From this he could see nothing torelieve his anxiety, for it looked towards a quarter different from thaton which the attack was made. He attempted his door; it was lockedon the outside; and his perplexity and anxiety became extreme, whensuddenly the lock was turned, and in an underdress, hastily assumedin the moment of alarm, her hair streaming on her shoulders, her eyesgleaming betwixt fear and resolution, Alice Bridgenorth rushed into hisapartment, and seized his hand with the fervent exclamation, "Julian,save my father!"

  The light which she bore in her hand served to show those features whichcould rarely have been viewed by any one without emotion, but which borean expression irresistible to a lover.

  "Alice," he said, "what means this? What is the danger? Where is yourfather?"

  "Do not stay to question," she answered; "but if you would save him,follow me!"

  At the same time she led the way, with great speed, half-way down theturret stair case which led to his room, thence turning through a sidedoor, along a long gallery, to a larger and wider stair, at the bottomof which stood her father, surrounded by four or five of his friends,scarce discernible through the smoke of the fire which began totake hold in the hall, as well as that which arose from the repeateddischarge of their own firearms.

  Julian saw there was not a moment to be lost, if he meant to be asuccessful mediator. He rushed through Bridgenorth's party ere they wereaware of his approach, and throwing himself amongst the assailantswho occupied the hall in considerable numbers, he assured them of hispersonal safety, and conjured them to depart.

  "Not without a few more slices at the Rump, master," answered Lance. "Iam principally glad to see you safe and well; but here is Joe Rimegapshot as dead as a buck in season, and more of us are hurt; and we'llhave revenge, and roast the Puritans like apples for lambswool!"

  "Then you shall roast me along with them," said Julian; "for I vow toGod, I will not leave the hall, being bound by parole of honour to abidewith Major Bridgenorth till lawfully dismissed."

  "Now out on you, an you were ten times a Peveril!" said Ditchley; "togive so many honest fellows loss and labour on your behalf, and toshow them no kinder countenance.--I say, beat up the fire, and burn alltogether!"

  "Nay, nay; but peace, my masters, and hearken to reason," said Julian;"we are all here in evil condition, and you will only make it worse bycontention. Do you help to put out this same fire, which will else costus all dear. Keep yourselves under arms. Let Master Bridgenorth and mesettle some grounds of accommodation, and I trust all will be favourablymade up on both sides; and if not, you shall have my consent andcountenance to fight it out; and come on it what will, I will neverforget this night's good service."

  He then drew Ditchley and Lance Outram aside, while the rest stoodsuspended at his appearance and words, and expressing the utmostthanks and gratitude for what they had already done, urged them, as thegreatest favour which they could do towards him and his father's house,to permit him to negotiate the terms of his emancipation from thraldom;at the same time forcing on Ditchley five or six gold pieces, that thebrave lads of Bonadventure might drink his health; whilst to Lance heexpressed the warmest sense of his active kindness, but protested hecould only consider it as good service to his house, if he was allowedto manage the matter after his own fashion.

  "Why," answered Lance, "I am well out on it, Master Julian; for it ismatter beyond my mastery. All that I stand to is, that I will see yousafe out of this same Moultrassie Hall; for our old Naunt Ellesmerewill else give me but cold comfort when I come home. Truth is, I beganunwillingly; but when I saw the poor fellow Joe shot beside me, why, Ithought we should have some amends. But I put it all in your Honour'shands."

  During this colloquy both parties had been amicably employed inextinguishing the fire, which might otherwise have been fatal to all.It required a general effort to get it under; and both parties agreedon the necessary labour, with as much unanimity, as if the water theybrought in leathern buckets from the well to throw upon the fire, hadsome effect in slaking their mutual hostility.