The King's General (19 page)

"I have a message for Mistress Harris," he said, flinging himself from his horse, and my throat went dry and my hands went wet, and he is dead, I thought, for certain.

"But the battle, how goes the battle?" and "What of the rebels?"

"What has happened?" Questions on all sides were put to him, with Nick Sawle on one side and Will Sparke on the other, so that he had to push his way through them to reach me in the hall.

"Essex will be in Bodmin by nightfall," he said briefly. "We have just had a brush with Lord Robartes and his brigade above Lostwithiel, who have now turned back to meet him. We ourselves are in hot retreat to Truro, where Sir Richard plans to raise more troops. I am come from the road but to bring this message to Mistress Harris."

"Essex at Bodmin?" A cry of alarm went up from all the company, and Temperance Sawle went straightway on her knees and called upon her Maker. But I was busy tearing open Richard's letter. I read:

My sweet love, the hook is nicely baited, and the poor misguided fish gapes at it with his mouth wide open. He will be in Bodmin tonight, and most probably in Fowey tomorrow. His chief adviser in the business is that crass idiot, Jack Robartes, whose mansion at Lanhydrock I have just had infinite pleasure in pillaging. They will swallow the bait, hook, line, and sinker. We shall come up on them from Truro, and His Majesty, Maurice, and Ralph Hopton from the east. The King has already advanced as far as Tavistock, so the fish will be most prettily landed. Your immediate future at Menabilly being somewhat unpleasant, it will be best if you return the whelp to me, with his tutor .I have given Joe instructions on the matter.

Keep to your chamber, my dear love, and have no fear. We will come to your succour as soon as may be. My respects to your sister and the company.

Your devoted servant, Richard Grenvile

I placed the letter in my gown and turned to Joe.

"Is the general well?" I asked.

"Never better." He grinned. "I have just left him eating roast pork on the road to Grampound, while his servant cleaned his boots. We seized a score of pigs from Lord Robartes's park, and a herd of sheep, and some twenty head of cattle--the troops are in high fettle. If you hear rumours of our losses at Newbridge pay no attention to them; the higher figure they are put at by the enemy, the better pleased will be Sir Richard."

I motioned then that I should like to speak with him apart, and he withdrew alone with me to the sun parlour.

"What is the plan for Dick?" I asked.

"Sir Richard thinks it best if the boy and Mr. Ashley embark by fishing boat for St.

Mawes, if arrangements can be made with one of the fellows at Polkerris. They can keep close inshore, and once around the Dodman the passage will not be long. I have money here to pay the fishermen, and pay them well, for their trouble."

"When should they depart?"

"As soon as possible. I shall see to it and go with them to the beach. Then I shall return to join Sir Richard and, with any luck, catch up with him on the Grampound Truro road. The trouble is the roads are already choked with people in headlong flight from Essex, all making for the West, and it will not be long now before the rebel cavalry reach the district."

"There is, then, no time to lose," I answered, "and I will ask Mr. John Rashleigh to go with you to Polkerris; he will know the men there who are most likely to be trusted."

I called John to come to me and hurriedly explained the plan, whereupon he set forth straightway to Polkerris with Joe Grenvile, while I sent word to Herbert Ashley that I wished to speak to him. He arrived looking very white about the gills, for rumour had run riot in the place that the Grenvile troops were flying in disorder with the rebels on their heels and the war was irrevocably lost. He looked much relieved when I told him that he and Dick were to depart upon the instant, by sea and not by road, and went immediately to pack their things, promising to be ready within the "our- The task then fell upon me to break the news to my shadow. He was standing by upside door, looking out on to the garden, and I beckoned him to my side.

Dick," I said to him. "I want you to be brave and sensible. The neighbourhood is likely to be surrounded by the enemy before another day, and Menabilly will be seized. Your father thinks it better you should not be found here, and I have arranged, therefore, with Mr. Rashleigh, that you and your tutor go by boat to St. Mawes, where you will be safe."

"A. K you coming too?" he asked.

No, Dick. This is a very sudden plan, made only for yourselves. I and the rest of we company will remain at Menabilly."

"Then so will I."

"No, Dick. You must let me judge for you. And it is best for you to go."

"Does it mean that I must join my father?"

"That I cannot tell. All I do know is that the fishing boat is to take you to St.

Mawes."

He said nothing but looked queerly sulky and strange, and after a moment or two went up to join his tutor.

I had a pain at the pit of my stomach all the while, for there is nothing so contagious as panic, and the atmosphere of sharp anxiety was rife in the air. In the gallery little groups of people were gathered, with strained eyes and drawn faces, and Alice's children, aware of tension, chose--poor dears--this moment to be fretful and were clinging to her skirts, crying bitterly.

"There is time yet to reach Truro if only we had a conveyance," I heard Will say, his face grey with fear, "but Jonathan took all the horses with him, and the farm wagons would be too slow. Where has John gone? Is it not possible for John to arrange in some manner that we be conducted to Truro?"

His sisters watched him with anxious eyes, and I saw Gillian whisper hurriedly to Deborah that none of their things were ready, it would take her till evening to sort out what was necessary for travel. Then Nick Saw le, drawing himself up proudly, said in a loud voice, "My wife and I propose to stay at Menabilly. If cowards care to clatter on the roads as fugitives they are welcome to do so, but I find it a poor return to our cousin Jonathan to desert his house like rats in time of trouble."

My sister Mary looked towards me in distress.

"What do you counsel, Honor?" she asked. "Should we set forth or should we stay?

Jonathan gave me no commands. He assured me that the enemy would not cross the Tamar, or, at the worst, be turned back after a few miles."

"My God," I said, "if you care to hide in the ditches with the driven cattle, then by all means go, but I swear you will fare worse upon the road than you are likely to do at home. Better to starve under your own roof than in the hedges."

"We have plenty of provisions," said Mary, snatching a ray of hope. "We are not likely to want for anything unless the siege be long."

She turned in consultation to her stepdaughters, who were all of them still occupied in calming the children, and I thought it wisest not to spread further consternation by telling her that once the rebels held the house they would make short work of her provisions.

The clock in the belfry had just struck three when Dick and his tutor came-down ready for departure. The lad was still sulky and turned his head from me when I would say good-bye. This was better than the rebellious tears I had expected, and with a cheerful voice I wished him a speedy journey and that a week or less would see the end of all our troubles. He did not answer, and I signed to Herbert Ashley to take his arm and to start walking across the park with Frank Penrose, who would conduct them to Polkerris, and there fall in with John Rashleigh and Joe Grenvile, who must by this time have matters well arranged.

Anxiety and strain had brought an aching back upon me, and I desired now nothing so much as to retire to the gatehouse and lie upon my bed. I sent for Matty, and she, with the help of Joan and Alice, carried me upstairs. The sun was coming strongly through my western casement and the room was hot and airless. I lay upon my bed sticky wet, wishing with all my heart that I were a man and could ride with Joe Grenvile on the road to Truro, instead of lying there, a woman and a cripple, waiting for the relentless tramp of enemy feet. I had been there but an hour, I suppose, snatching brief oblivion, when I heard once more the sound of a horse galloping across the park, and, calling to Matty, I enquired who it should be. She went to the casement and looked out.

"It's Mr. John," she said, "in great distress by his expression. Something has gone amiss."

My heart sank at her words. Perhaps, after all, the fishermen at Polkerris could not be tempted to set sail. In a moment or two I heard his footstep on the stairs and he flung into my room, forgetting even to knock upon the door.

"We have lost Dick," he said; "he has vanished. He is nowhere to be found." He stood staring at me, the sweat pouring down his face, and I could see that his whole frame was trembling.

"What do you mean? What has happened?" I asked swiftly, raising myself in my bed.

"We were all assembled on the beach," he said, his breath coming quickly, "and the boat was launched. There was a little cuddy below deck, and I saw Dick descend to it with my own eyes, his bundle under his arm. There was no trouble to engage the boat, and the men--both of them stout fellows and well known to me--were willing.

Just before they drew anchor we heard a clatter on the cobbles beside the cottages, and some lads came running down in great alarm to tell us that the first body of rebel horse had cut the road from Castledore to Tywardreath and that Polmear Hill was already blocked with troops. At this the men began to make sail, and young Joe Grenvile turned to me with a wink and said, 'It looks as if I must go by water too, ' and before I could answer him he had urged his horse into the sea and was making for the sand flats half a mile away to the westward. It was half low tide, but he had reached them and turned in his saddle to wave to us within five and twenty minutes. He'll be on Gosmoor by now and halfway to St. Austell."

"But Dick?" I said. "You say you have lost Dick?"

"He was in the boat," he said stubbornly, "I swear he was in the boat, but we turned to listen to the lads and their tale of the troops at Tywardreath, and then with one accord we watched young Joe put his horse to the water and swim for it. By heaven, Honor, it was the boldest thing I have ever seen a youngster do, for the tide can run swiftly between Polkerris and the flats. And then Ashley, the tutor, looking about him, called for Dick but could not find him. We searched the vessel from stem to stern, but he wasn't there. He was not on the beach. He was not anywhere. For God's sake. Honor, what are we now to do?"

I felt as helpless as he did, and sick with anxiety, for here was I, having failed utterly in my trust, and the rebel troops not two miles away.

"Where is the boat now?" I asked.

"Lying off the Gribbin, waiting for a signal from me," said John, "with that useless tutor aboard with no other thought in his mind but getting to St. Mawes. But even if we find the boy, Honor, I fear it will be too late."

"Search the cliffs in all directions," I said, "and the grounds, and the park, and pasture. Was anything said to the lad upon the way?"

"I cannot say. I think not. I only heard Frank Penrose tell him that by nightfall he would be with his father."

So that was it, I thought. A moment's indiscretion but enough to turn Dick from his journey and play truant like a child from school. I could do nothing in the search but bade John set forth once more with Frank Penrose, saying no word to anyone of what had happened. And, calling to Matty, I bade her take me to the causeway.

15

Once on the high ground I had as good a view of the surrounding country as I could wish, and I saw Frank Penrose and John Rashleigh strike out across the beef park to jhe beacon fields and then divide. All the while I had a fear in my heart that the boy had drowned himself and would be found with the rising tide floating face downwards 'n the wash below Polkerris cliffs. There was no sign of the boat, and I judged it to be to the westward beyond Polkerris and the Gribbin.

Back and forth we went along the causeway, with Matty pushing my chair, and still no sign of a living soul, nothing but the cattle grazing on the farther hills and the ripple of a breeze blowing the corn upon the sky line.

Presently I sent Matty withindoors for a cloak, for the breeze was freshening, and on her return she told me that stragglers were already pouring into the park from the roads, women and children and old men, all with makeshift bundles on their backs, begging for shelter, for the route was cut to Truro and the rebels everywhere. My sister Mary was at her wit's end to know what to say to them, and many of them were already kindling fires down in the warren and making rough shelter for the night.

"As I came out just now," said Matty, "there was a litter borne by four horses come to rest in the courtyard, and a lady within demanding harbourage for herself and her young daughters. I heard the servant say they had been nine hours upon the road."

I thanked God in my heart that we had remained at Menabilly and not lost our heads like these other poor unfortunates.

"Go back, Matty," I said, "and see what you can do to help my sister. None of the servants have any sense left in their heads."

She had not been gone more than ten minutes before I saw two figures coming across the fields towards me, and one of them, seeing me upon the causeway, waved his arm, while with the other he held fast to his companion.

It was John Rashleigh, and he had Dick with him.

When they reached me I saw the boy was dripping wet and scratched about the face and hands by brambles, but for once he was not bothered by the sight of blood but stared at me defiantly.

"I will not go," he said; "you cannot make me go."

John Rashleigh shook his head at me and shrugged his shoulders in resignation.

"It's no use, Honor," he said. "We shall have to keep him. There's a wash on the beaches now and I've signalled to the boat to make sail and take the tutor across the bay to Mevagissey or Gorran, where he must make shift for himself. As for this lad--I found him halfway up the cliff, a mile from Polkerris, having been waist-deep in water for the past three hours. God only knows what Sir Richard will say to the bungle we have made."