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

Third. He was tall and well-built, and though equipped in a plain riding-suit, had an unmistakable military air.

      His companions were very much younger, and all of them looked like gentlemen – as indeed they were – the most noticeable being the two Wogans. Both of these young men were very good-looking, and graceful in figure. Captain Wogan had a very interesting countenance. As they had no servants with them, each carried a small valise attached to his saddle.

      Colonel Oxburgh was an old friend of Sir John Webb – indeed, they had served together in Ireland – and, wishing to see him before he left the North, he was proceeding to Bamborough Castle with that object, when he learnt that Sir John and his family had just taken their departure, but meant to halt at Dilston. Thereupon, the colonel changed his course, and went to the latter place.

      On his arrival, his first inquiries were whether Sir John was there, and, being quickly satisfied on this point by Newbiggin, he dismounted, and his companions followed his example. The horses were taken to the stables, and the bags ordered to be brought into the house, as if it had been an inn, and while this was being done, the colonel again addressed Newbiggin, and asked if there was any other company at the castle.

      The butler smiled significantly.

      “We have a very important person indeed here, colonel,” he said. “I need keep no secret from you and your friends, because you are all loyal. What will you say, gentlemen,” addressing the whole party, “when I tell you that the Chevalier de Saint George is here?”

      “I should say the statement is scarcely likely to be correct, my good friend,” rejoined the colonel, dryly. “You are jesting with us.”

      “‘Tis true, I assure you, colonel,” said Newbiggin. “His majesty is at Dilston at this moment. You will soon be convinced of the fact.”

      “I am convinced now,” cried Colonel Oxburgh. “But you cannot wonder at my incredulity, and you see it was shared by all my friends. Since such is the case, gentlemen,” he added, turning to the others, “we must remain where we are for a few minutes. We must not present ourselves to the king till we learn that it is his majesty’s pleasure to receive us.”

      “I have no doubt upon the point, colonel,” said the butler; “and I will venture to take you to his majesty at once, if you will allow me.”

      The punctilious colonel, however, could not be moved from his position, nor would he enter the house, so New-biggin was obliged to leave him and his friends in order to make the necessary announcement.

      Ere long, Lord Derwentwater appeared, and welcomed them with the utmost cordiality, stating at the same time that his majesty would be delighted to receive them.

      His lordship then conducted them to the garden, and presented them to the prince, who accorded them a most gratifying reception, shaking hands with Colonel Oxburgh, and treating him like an old friend.

      “I have often heard the king, my father, speak of you, colonel,” he said; “and always with regard. He was deeply sensible of your attachment to him.”

      “The attachment I ever felt towards his majesty is now transferred to his son,” replied the colonel, laying his hand upon his heart. “I only hope the time has come when I can prove my loyalty and devotion.”

      “We will talk of that anon, my dear colonel,” replied the prince.

      And he then addressed himself to the others, to each of whom he had something agreeable to say. His highness seemed particularly pleased with Captain Wogan.

      While this was going on, Colonel Oxburgh exchanged a greeting with Sir John Webb and Forster, nor did he omit to pay his devoirs to Lady Webb and the younger ladies.

      IX. – CONFESSION

      Feeling that their presence might be some restraint upon the meeting, the ladies soon afterwards withdrew, and entered the house, accompanied by Father Norham.

      As soon as they were alone together, Lady Webb embraced her daughter with more than her customary warmth, and again congratulated her on her good fortune.

      “You are now in the most enviable position in which a girl can be placed,” she said. “You have obtained as a husband one of the richest and most powerful nobles in the land, and who, in addition to these recommendations, has youth, good looks, and extreme amiability. Could you desire more?”

      “No, dearest mamma,” she replied. “I ought to be grateful, and I am grateful. I do not deserve so much. I ought to return thanks to Heaven for its great goodness towards me. I should like to see Father Norham alone.”

      “I entirely approve of your resolution, my dear child,” replied her mother. “Remain here. I will send the holy father to you.”

      She then left her, and the interval between her departure and the good priest’s appearance was passed in prayer.

      Father Norham found her on her knees before a small image of the Blessed Virgin, which was in the room, and did not interrupt her.

      When she arose, he expressed his great satisfaction at finding her thus employed.

      “I am now certain his lordship has chosen well,” he said.

      “I hope he will never regret the step he has taken, father,” she rejoined.

      “Strive earnestly to make him happy, dear daughter, and you cannot fail,” said the priest. “Have you aught to say to me?”

      “I desire to disburden my conscience, father,” she replied. “I have not much upon it, but I shall feel easier when I have spoken.”

      “You will do well, daughter,” he said.

      He then sat down, and she knelt beside him, and cleared her breast of all that weighed upon it.

      It was not more than many a maiden would have to avow, but the good father was strict, and imposed a slight penance upon her.

      “You must debar yourself from the society of him you love till to-morrow,” he said.

      She uttered an exclamation, but the priest went on:

      “For the rest of the day you must remain in the seclusion of this chamber, so that your thoughts may be undisturbed. Part of the night must be passed in vigil and prayer. This will be a fitting preparation for the ceremony you are about to go through.”

      “What will Lord Derwentwater think, father?” she asked uneasily.

      “I will take care he receives such explanation as may be necessary,” he replied. “But I again enjoin solitude and reflection. Later on, I will take you to the chapel, where your vigils must be kept till midnight. Promise me not to quit this room, without my sanction.”

      “I will obey you, father,” she rejoined.

      X. – A BANQUET

      A GRAND dinner was given that day in the great banquet-ing-hall of the castle, at which the prince and all the guests assisted with the exception of her, whom the noble host would have preferred to all the others. Being told by Lady Webb that her daughter was rather overcome by the excitement of the morning, and deemed it best to keep her room, he submitted to the disappointment with the best grace he could.

      The dinner was magnificent, though little time had been allowed for its preparation. Still with the resources at Lord Derwentwater’s command, a great deal can be accomplished. The prince sat on the right of the earl, and on his lordship’s left was placed Lady Webb. Next to her ladyship was Colonel Oxburgh, and next to the prince on the right, was Sir John Webb. Then came the Squire of Bamborough. We cannot record how the rest of the company was placed, but we must mention that the fair Dorothy was not very far from Charles Radclyffe, who sat at the foot of the table. Undoubtedly, the party lacked its chief attraction – at least in the eyes of Lord Derwentwater – but he was so much occupied by the prince that he had not much time to think of the fair absentee; and besides, Lady Webb assured him that there was not the slightest cause for uneasiness.

      The Chevalier de Saint George was in high spirits. No contretemps of any kind had occurred since his arrival at