The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45. Ainsworth William Harrison

ANN'S

      Just then a female servant ushered in two young divines, both of them assistant curates of St. Ann's – the Rev. Thomas Lewthwaite and the Rev. Benjamin Nichols. Mr. Hoole, the rector of St. Ann's, was inclined to Nonjuring principles, which he had imbibed from Dr. Deacon, and was very popular with the High Church party, but his curates were Whigs, and belonged to the Low Church, and had both preached against rebellion. Mr. Lewthwaite was a suitor to Beppy, but she did not give him much encouragement, and, indeed, rather laughed at him.

      Both the reverend gentlemen looked rather grave, and gave a description of the state of the town that brought back all Mrs. Byrom's alarms.

      "An express has just come in," said Mr. Lewthwaite, "bringing word that the rebels have reached Lancaster, and that Marshal Wade has turned back to Newcastle. The rebel force is estimated at seven thousand men, but other accounts affirm that it now amounts to thirty thousand and upwards."

      "I hope the latter accounts are correct," observed Beppy.

      "We shall certainly have the Pretender here in a couple of days," pursued the curate.

      "Pray don't call him the Pretender, sir," cried Beppy. "Speak of him with proper respect as Prince Charles Edward."

      "I can't do that," said Mr. Lewthwaite, "being a loyal subject of King George."

      "Whom some people regard as a usurper," muttered Beppy.

      "The news has thrown the whole town into consternation," said Mr. Nichols. "Everybody is preparing for flight. Almost all the warehouses are closed. Half the shops are shut, and as Mr. Lewthwaite and myself passed through the square just now, we didn't see half a dozen persons. Before night the place will be empty.

      "Well, we shan't go," said Beppy.

      "The Earl of Warrington has sent away all his plate," pursued Mr. Nichols.

      "I have very little plate to send away," observed Dr. Byrom. "Besides, I am not afraid of being plundered."

      "You may not feel quite so secure, sir, when I tell you that the magistrates have thrown open the doors of the House of Correction," said Mr. Nichols.

      "Very considerate of them, indeed," said Dr. Byrom. "The townspeople will appreciate their attention. Have you any more agreeable intelligence?"

      "Yes; the postmaster has started for London this morning to stop any further remittances from the bankers, lest the money should fall into the hands of the rebels."

      "That looks as if the authorities were becoming really alarmed," observed Edward Byrom.

      "They are rather late in bestirring themselves," said Mr. Nichols. "The boroughreeve and constables have learnt that a good deal of unlawful recruiting for the Pretender has been going on under their very noses, and are determined to put an end to it. Colonel Townley would have been arrested last night if he had not saved himself by a hasty departure. But I understand that an important arrest will be made this morning."

      "An arrest! – of whom?" inquired Dr. Byrom, uneasily.

      "I can't tell you precisely, sir," replied Mr. Nichols. "But the person is a Jacobite gentleman of some consequence, who has only just arrived in Manchester."

      "It must be Sir Richard Rawcliffe," mentally ejaculated Dr. Byrom. "I must warn him of his danger without delay. Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "I have just recollected an appointment. I fear I shall be rather late."

      And he was hurrying out of the room, but before he could reach the door, it was opened by the servant, and Atherton Legh came in.

      Under the circumstances the interruption was vexatious, but quickly recovering from the confusion into which he was thrown, the doctor exclaimed, "You are the person I wanted to see."

      Seizing the young man's arm, he led him to a small adjoining room that served as a study.

      "You will think my conduct strange," he said, "but there is no time for explanation. Will you take a message from me to Sir Richard Rawcliffe?"

      "Willingly," replied Atherton, "I was going to him after I had said a few words to you."

      "Our conference must be postponed," said the doctor.

      He then sat down and tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper, directed and sealed the note, and gave it to Atherton.

      "Take this to Sir Richard, without loss of time," he said. "You will render him an important service."

      "I shall be very glad to serve him," replied the young man. "But may I not know the nature of my mission?"

      "Be satisfied that it is important," said the doctor. "I shall see you again later on. Perhaps Sir Richard may have a message to send to me."

      Dr. Byrom then conducted the young man to the hall-door, and let him out himself; after which he returned to the study, not caring to go back to the drawing-room.

      Great was Beppy's disappointment that Atherton was carried off so suddenly by her father; but she had some suspicion of the truth. As to the two curates, they thought the doctor's conduct rather singular, but forebore to make any remarks.

      CHAPTER X.

      CONSTANCE RAWCLIFFE

      On quitting Dr. Byrom's house, Atherton proceeded quickly along Old Mill Gate towards the market-place.

      This street, one of the oldest and busiest in the town, presented a very unwonted appearance – several of the shops being shut, while carts half-filled with goods were standing at the doors, showing that the owners were removing their property.

      Very little business seemed to be going on, and there were some symptoms of a disturbance, for a band of rough-looking fellows, armed with bludgeons, was marching along the street, and pushing decent people from the narrow footway.

      In the market-place several groups were collected, eagerly discussing the news; and at the doors of the Exchange, then newly erected, a few merchants were assembled, but they all had an anxious look, and did not seem to be engaged on business.

      Except the Exchange, to which we have just adverted, there was not a modern building near the market-place. All the habitations were old, and constructed of timber and plaster. In the midst of these, on the left, stood the Bull's Head. The old inn ran back to a considerable distance, and possessed a court-yard large enough to hold three or four post-chaises and an occasional stage-coach.

      Entering the court-yard, Atherton sought out Diggles, the landlord, and inquired for Sir Richard Rawcliffe, but, to his great disappointment, learnt that the baronet had just gone out.

      "That is unlucky," cried the young man. "I have an important communication for him."

      "He will be back presently," said the landlord. "But perhaps Miss Rawcliffe will see you. She is within. Her cousin, Miss Butler, is with her."

      Atherton assented to this proposition, and was conducted by the host to a room on the first floor, and evidently situated in the front part of the house.

      Tapping at the door Diggles went in, and almost immediately returned to say that Miss Rawcliffe would be happy to receive Mr. Atherton Legh.

      Atherton was then ushered into the presence of two young ladies – one of whom rose on his appearance and received him very courteously.

      Could he believe his eyes? Yes! it must be the fair creature he had seen on the previous night, who had made such a powerful impression upon him. But if he had thought her beautiful then, how much more exquisite did she appear now that her charming features could be fully distinguished.

      While bowing to the other young lady, whose name he had learnt from the landlord, he felt equally sure that she had been Miss Rawcliffe's companion on the previous night.

      Monica Butler offered a strong contrast to her cousin – the one being a brunette and the other a blonde. But each was charming in her way – each set off the other. Constance's eyes were dark as night, and her tresses of corresponding hue; while Monica's eyes were tender and blue as a summer sky, and her locks fleecy as a summer cloud.

      "I see you recognise us, Mr. Atherton Legh," said Miss Rawcliffe, smiling.