Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715. Ainsworth William Harrison

Webb, who rode a capital horse, provided for her from the Bamborough stables, and was accompanied by Tom Forster and his sister, was greatly struck by the view of the castle at the end of the vista formed by the long avenue of chestnut trees; and if we may venture to reveal the secrets of her breast, we must state that she ardently desired to become the mistress of that stately mansion. Nor was this desire lessened when she entered the great quadrangular court and gazed around it.

      Certain of a hearty welcome, Tom Forster rode in first, and cracked his hunting-whip loudly, as he passed through the gateway, to summon the servants. Newbiggin and three or four footmen rushed down the perron to meet him. He contented himself with announcing to the butler that he had come to dine with his lordship, and pass the night at the castle, and had brought Miss Forster and Sir John Webb and his family with him, and then jumping from the saddle, gave his horse to one of the servants. To his surprise, Newbiggin looked rather embarrassed.

      “What! – not at home?” cried the squire.

      “Oh, yes, his lordship is at the castle, but he is engaged on rather particular business,” replied the butler. “Some one is with him.”

      “Oh, never mind!” cried the squire. “He’ll get his business done before dinner-time. Mr. Charles Radclyffe will take care of us.”

      As he spoke, Dorothy and Anna rode into the court, and immediately afterwards the great lumbering coach followed.

      After a moment’s consideration, Newbiggin made up his mind to admit them. Aware that Mr. Forster was a Jacobite, and also aware that Sir John Webb was a Roman Catholic and a staunch adherent of the Stuarts, he thought he couldn’t be doing wrong.

      Accordingly, he flew to the carriage, and helped its occupants to alight, leaving the young ladies to the care of the grooms, and, by the time he had fulfilled his duties, Charles Radclyffe made his appearance with Father Nor-ham, and welcoming the party with great cordiality in his brother’s name, led them to the garden. Having brought them to the lawn, he left them there with Father Norham, and went in search of the earl.

      If Anna had been pleased with what she had seen of the castle, she was quite enraptured now.

      Never, she declared to Dorothy, had she beheld anything finer than the prospect from the terrace. What charming scenery! what a lovely park! what brown moors! what woods! And how well the Tyne looked in the distance!

      She next praised the romantic beauty of the glen, with its trees, and rushing stream, and, above all, the picturesque old bridge.

      In short, everything delighted her. And though she said least about it, she was, perhaps, best pleased with the mansion itself. It was larger and more imposing than she expected, and she again thought what a fine thing it would be to be mistress of such a splendid place.

      Lady Webb was just as much struck with the castle and its surroundings as her daughter, and fondly hoped that she might soon have a stronger interest in the place. Her ladyship was conversing with Father Norham, and all she heard about the young earl heightened her desire to call him her son-in-law. Father Norham spoke with the greatest warmth of his lordship’s goodness of heart, noble qualities, and chivalrous character.

      “He is like Bayard himself,” he said; “a chevalier without fear and without reproach.”

      “With such a splendid mansion as this, and with such wealth as his lordship possesses, ‘tis a wonder he does not marry,” remarked Lady Webb.

      “His lordship will never marry except for love,” replied the priest.

      “That is perfectly consistent with the noble and disinterested character you have given him,” said Lady Webb. “But I should have thought,” she added, glancing towards Dorothy, “that a very charming young friend of ours might have touched his heart.”

      “Apparently not,” replied Father Norham. “I myself should have been well pleased if such had been the case. But I do not think Lord Derwentwater will marry till our rightful king is restored.”

      “Then he may have to wait long.” said her ladyship.

      At this moment Charles Radclyffe made his appearance.

      Seeing him return alone, Lady Webb and her daughter began to have some misgivings, but they were quickly set at rest by Charles, and a few minutes later his lordship himself was seen at the end of the terrace.

      Lord Derwentwater was, of course, accompanied by the prince, but he left him at the further end of the lawn, and went quickly on alone to welcome his visitors.

      Oh! how Anna’s heart fluttered as she beheld him.

      His devoirs were first paid to Lady Webb, and then to the younger ladies. Dorothy was quite easy in her manner, and shook hands with him warmly, but Anna courtesied deeply to the formal bow he addressed to her. At the same time, the flush on her cheek betrayed the state of her feelings.

      Lord Derwentwater could not fail to perceive this, and we doubt not he was much gratified by the discovery, but he was obliged to turn to the others.

      Meanwhile, the prince had come up, and in compliance with the instructions he had received, Lord Derwentwater introduced him as Mr. Johnson – but without another word.

      Sir John Webb bowed rather stiffly to the stranger, and Forster was scarcely more polite; indeed, very little notice was taken of him, except by the young ladies, both of whom were struck by his manner, and entered into conversation with him.

      They soon found out that he was a person of distinction, and learning that he had only just come from France, felt sure he must be a messenger from the Chevalier de Saint George, and began to question him about the prince, displaying an interest in the cause, that could not but be agreeable to the hearer.

      “I shall probably see the prince ere long,” said the Chevalier, “and will not fail to tell him what warm partisans he has among the ladies of Northumberland.”

      “Tell him that Dorothy Forster, of Bamborough Castle, will do her best to aid him whenever he comes,” cried that young lady.

      “Tell him that Anna Webb begins to think he never means to come at all, and fears he has forgotten his friends,” added the other.

      “Both messages shall reach him, I promise you,” said the prince. “And when he learns how surpassingly beautiful are the two damsels who sent them he will be doubly gratified.”

      “We need no compliments,” said Anna. “For my part I am out of patience with the prince.”

      “Why so?”

      “Because he neglects so many opportunities. He might be on the throne now, had he chosen.”

      “The prince has neglected no chance. But you are not aware of the difficulties he has had to encounter.”

      “I can partly guess them. But they are nothing. Were I in his place I would have made twenty attempts, and either have succeeded or perished.”

      “I admire your spirit. But to win a kingdom, you must have an army. And the prince has no army.”

      “He could have one very soon,” cried Anna.

      “Yes, that is certain,” added Dorothy. “A small army could be raised in this county. Lord Derwentwater could bring five hundred men. And my brother, Mr. Forster could raise a troop.”

      “Tell this to the prince, when you go back,” cried Anna. “Say that the Jacobite ladies of England are dying to behold him.”

      “That will bring him, if anything will,” laughed the prince.

      At this moment Lord Derwentwater came up, and said to Anna:

      “May I ask what message you are sending to the prince?”

      “That we are all tired of waiting for him,” she replied. “We have been so often disappointed, that we begin to think he will never come.”

      “Then let me inform you that I have just received certain intelligence that his majesty is in England at this moment.”

      Dorothy and Anna uttered exclamations of surprise and delight.

      “You