Georgette Heyer (16 page)

  'Scullion's work, I promise you,' said the King. 'Who cut the collops? Who measured what butter was needed?'

  When William returned with a trencher and a loaf of bread, the mutton was done (the King said) to a turn.

  'And even some of it to a cinder,' added Carlis, spearing a somewhat charred slice on the point of his knife.

  'Your portion,' said the King.

  'I thank you – master-cook!'

  'Fie, are you still envious?
My
master-cook shall give judgment between us – one day.'

  By the time the King had eaten the collops, and washed them down with some sack, the autumn morning-mist had lifted from the fields, and the sun had pierced the clouds. Humphrey came in to bring the news of a fine day to come, and no rebel troops to be seen abroad. The King was so sure that the day would be spent by all Puritans in godly exercises that nothing the Penderels urged could prevail upon him to go into hiding. He elected to sit with a book in a pretty little arbour in the garden, which was set upon a mound and so commanded a view of the neighbouring country side. Carlis, having begged him unavail ingly to retire to some safer place, said with the hint of a smile: 'With submission, sir, I must say that I find your Majesty very obstinate.'

  The King's eyes rolled towards him, in a look half of drollery, half of penitence. 'Nay, you wrong me.'

  'I am very sure I do not,' said the Major dryly. 'But if I allow you to have your way, sir, you shall first make me this promise, that upon a word from me you will retire without question into the secret place.'

  The King said pensively: 'Allow?'

  'Yes, my child: allow,' repeated Carlis. 'For when your life is at stake, look you, I dare not stand upon terms with you. Come! You may clap me into the Tower later, but be guided by me now!'

  'You need not use me so harshly,' protested the King. 'I begin to think myself back in Scotland.'

  Carlis smiled. 'Dear sir, you may have my head to play at pitch-and-toss with, but not your own.'

  The King laughed. 'A soft answer! Well, I will swear to obey you. But as you love me do not send me to my damned uneasy dungeon without good cause!'

  'Oh, trust me, sir, I will not! I think you are perhaps right, and they will not search very strictly for you today. But I shall be glad to get you safe away from here, and that right speedily.'

  'Yes,' the King said sardonically. 'Each one of my subjects must be glad to see me safe out of his house. I should have got myself killed at Worcester. I should certainly have preferred to die in battle than upon a scaffold, as I seem likely to do.' He opened his book, and began to flick over the pages. 'My father lived a King, and died a gentleman. I desire to live a King, and although I think it makes little odds how I die, I own I should not choose to be dragged out of some hiding place to my death.'

  Carlis replied with a little difficulty: 'Your Majesty will not die so. You must escape, if only to cheat your enemies.'

  'Of all the reasons that have been shown me why my life should be preserved, I never heard one that appealed to me more strongly than that,' said the King.

The morning passed quietly, the brothers, who were mounting guard, raising no alarm to send the King into hiding. He remained for the most part in the arbour, sometimes reading, sometimes talking to Carlis; and occasionally stretching his legs in a rather painful walk about the garden. A very little of this exercise was enough to convince him that his feet would not carry him far. He was, moreover, so mentally and physically fatigued that even to converse was an effort; but the sleep which he needed was driven away by care; and although he lay down upon a bed for some time, he could get no rest, his brain continuing obstinately to worry over its problems, and his body suffering all the pains of over exertion.

  Major Carlis had worries also. Very little more was needed, he thought, to make the King really ill; but since every moment that he spent in the neighbour hood of White-Ladies was dangerous, ill or well he must be got away. When noon came without anything being heard of John Penderel, a still greater anxiety was hidden beneath the Major's invincibly cheerful manner. Moseley Hall lay some eight or nine miles to the east of Boscobel, but since John had set out at daybreak to walk there, he must, if he had found Lord Wilmot, have had time to have delivered his message, and to have brought back an answer. As the hours crept on, the possibility of Wilmot's having left Moseley before John could reach him began to assume the aspect of a certainty. If Wilmot, believing the King to be in Wales, was gone past recall, the King would be in a perilous predicament. Beyond their own district, the Penderels could be of no service to him, and Carlis, who would have liked nothing better than to have become his escort, was too well known throughout all the neighbouring country side to be anything but an added danger to him.

  The Penderels, who thought with Carlis that John's continued absence boded very ill, conferred amongst themselves at great length, but were unable to offer any other suggestion than that Richard should immediately set out for Moseley Hall, to discover what had gone amiss, and, if necessary, to disclose the secret of the King's presence at Boscobel to Father Huddleston, in the hope that he might be of assistance.

  This plan Carlis rejected without hesitation, since John, whether he found Lord Wilmot or not, was bound to return to Boscobel.

  Another hour passed. The King enquired what the time was, and upon being told that it was nearly four o'clock, looked a little startled. 'So late? Is it far to Moseley?'

  'Nay, 'tis a bare nine miles, master,' Richard blurted out. 'We be afeard of a mischance.'

  'My Lord Wilmot must have departed from Moseley.'

'We do not know that, sir,' interposed Carlis.

  The King glanced from one grave face to the next. When he saw how anxiously the Penderels watched him, he said lightly: 'Well, if he has, he should not be difficult to trace, judging from what I hear of his prog ress! Do not look so glum: if I must, I shall do very well without my lord.'

  'Of course you will,' said Carlis. 'It is merely that we must make a new plan for your Majesty's safety, and that is easily done, once we bend our minds to it. For the present, we must wait in patience for John's return.'

  They had not much longer to wait, for at half-past four John came in. He was greeted with a warmth that betrayed anxiety, and, having touched his forelock to the King, said in his serious way: 'I do be powerful sorry I've kept your honour waiting. But seeing my lord was gone away to Colonel Lane's, I was bound to trudge after him.'

  'You found him?' Carlis said quickly.

  'Ay, to be sure I did,' John replied, faintly surprised at the question. 'You should ought to know I'd not be here else, master. I found him, and 'tis all arranged betwixt us that his Majesty shall meet him at Mr Whit greave's this night.'

  'You are the trustiest of envoys, John!' said the King. 'I thank you.'

  'John does be the one as takes pains,' agreed William, looking proudly at his brother. 'We was afeard my lord was gone past recall, John.'

  ''Tis God's mercy he were not,' said John. 'For my lord made off to Bentley Hall yester-night, Colonel Lane having visited him privately on Thursday evening for to tell him that Mrs Jane Lane, which is his sister, had procured a pass from the Governor of Stafford for herself and a servant to go to Bristol. And the Colonel, bethinking him that my lord should travel with her as her servant, did greatly urge him to it, which my lord refused till he should know what had befallen your Majesty, but begged the Colonel to stay his sister's going till he should hear from him again. And me bringing my lord news of your Majesty's having gone with Richard towards Severn, for to pass into Wales, my lord, accordingly, next morning, which was Saturday, sent to Colonel Lane's for his horses, and at midnight took leave of Mr Whitgreave, and went off to Bentley. But Mr Whitgreave, which is a very honest man, and the good Father being sadly anxious to get news of your Majesty, they took the notion to walk to White Ladies this day, to learn what they might. And they was a-walking together on the backside of the orchard this morning when I come suddenly upon them.' John's solemnity was momentarily lightened by a slow smile. 'I warrant you, they did not look to see me, and when I up and asked them mighty urgent,
Where is my lord?
they was sadly put out of countenance.
He is gone
, says the good Father; whereat I was in consternation, and told them we was all undone, for your Majesty, finding the passages over Severn all guarded, was come back to Boscobel, and we knew not what to do with you, how to dispose of you. And further I disclosed to them that your Majesty was hid in an oak tree with only the Major here for guard, and much dejected, wherefore you had sent me to find my lord, that he should take some speedy course for your removal and security.'

  'Alas, poor Wilmot!' murmured the King, much entertained by his ingenuous recital. 'He must be repenting him of having saddled himself with such a charge!'

  'Nay,' said John seriously. 'Myself, I did think my lord a poor meacock body, but I'm bound to tell your honour I found him mighty sprag to come to your aid. For Mr Whitgreave, look you, being much moved by your danger and calamity, took me along with Father Huddleston to Bentley, for to find my lord; which being done, and me having told my lord in what case I had left your Majesty, my lord instantly bade the Colonel stay his sister's journey yet longer, and concerted with me how he should best contrive your Majesty's safe escape. And the long and the short of it is, master, that we Penderels, and Francis Yates beside, will conduct your honour to Moseley this night, and there meet my lord at midnight, as near as maybe.'

  'But I cannot walk nine miles,' said the King.

  This statement, tossed so casually into the midst of John's plans, was productive of a dismayed silence. Having made his announcement, the King leaned his head against the high chair-back and sleepily regarded his odd little court. It was evident he awaited further suggestions. Carlis, looking down at him as he sat there, entirely at his ease, neither his abominable clothes nor his cropped head disguising his indefinable air of majesty, was suddenly betrayed into a laugh.

  This brought the King's eyes round to his face. He said with less than his usual good-humour: 'Let me share this jest, if you please! I should be glad to discover what there is to laugh at in my present condition.'

  Carlis shook his head. 'Alas, there is nothing, sir! Nay, do not look so crossly at me! Must I not laugh to see you transform this parlour into your council chamber, and us, your poor servants, into a court?'

  The King looked blankly at him. 'God he knows what you mean, Carlis; I do not. Here is neither King nor court, but a wretched fugitive with sore feet, sitting with his very good friends.'

  'Nay,' said Richard. 'Your honour is graciously pleased to say so, but 'tis like I told you in Spring Coppice: there's no mistaking what you be, do what I will to learn you different.'

  'A plague on your carping!' said the King. 'You said I trod too proudly, but that is a fault I'll swear you can no longer find in me, since I limp along now like any footsore hobbledehoy.' He added with a note of finality in his voice: 'But I will not nor I cannot limp nine miles to Moseley, and so I tell you.'

  'No, your Majesty is in no case to walk half that distance,' said Carlis. 'We must contrive a little.' He glanced at the three Penderels. 'Is there no horse here abouts that we could come by?'

  William shook his head; Richard said doubtfully: 'There's my lord's horses. Happen I could fetch one of them for his honour to ride upon. 'Tis a pity John didn't think to bring one back along with him.'

  'God send you more wit and me more money!'

replied John scornfully. 'A rare trick that, to go a-leading a blood-horse of the like of my lord's about the countryside, ay, and all them rebels after it for to see where I'd be taking it!'

  'No, that won't serve,' Carlis said decidedly. 'There must be some neighbour who owns a nag you could borrow upon some pretext.'

  ' "A horse! A horse! My Kingdom for a horse!" ' murmured the King.

  'I'll not do it,' John replied. 'If we had need of a horse we should take up Humphrey's from grass, and so all the neighbours know full well.'

  'What's that?' Carlis said. 'Do you say that Humphrey owns a horse? Then in God's name, man, why could you not tell us so before?'

  'I did bethink me of it,' answered John. 'but 'tis a pitiful old nag, in no ways fit for his Majesty to ride upon, being but the mill-horse, master. I wouldn't durst offer such to his Majesty for that he would disdain it.'

  'Oddsfish, what case am I in to disdain even a mill horse?' demanded the King. 'Will he bear me?'

  'Ay, that he will, master, no question.'

  'Then one of you go and take him up from grass,' ordered Carlis. 'Meanwhile, his Majesty waits for his supper.'