Boscobel; or, the royal oak: A tale of the year 1651. William Harrison Ainsworth

are fined by me—that is sufficient. I have his majesty's warrant for all I do."

      "Not his written warrant," said the judge.

      "I need it not," cried Massey. "What doth your Lord-General, as you style him? I do not desire to imitate his ruthless and robber-like proceedings. I do not intend, like him, to plunder churches, hospitals, and private dwellings. I do not mean to break open chests and carry off gold by the sack, and plate by the cart-load, as he did at Worcester, after the first siege. But I will imitate him in one thing. I will punish wealthy offenders like yourself by fines proportionate to their means. You have amassed money, I know, and, though a lawyer, I hope have come by it honestly. Had you been loyal you might have kept your money. But since you are a rebel, and a favourer of rebels, you shall disburse your gains for the king's use. You shall pay me the five thousand pounds I demand."

      "And yet you affirm that you design not to plunder me," observed Judge Lechmere, still with perfect calmness. "What call you this but plunder on the greatest scale? Better strip my house of all it contains—better carry off my pictures and my plate—than fine me in a sum so large that I cannot pay it. Again I say, I am certain the king would not allow this demand to be made."

      "His majesty will approve of what I do," rejoined Massey. "But I will not bandy words with you. You are now in my court, judge, and my decision holds good here. I will have the sum I have named—no less. Two thousand pounds—the first instalment—must be paid before noon on Thursday. That will give you two days to raise it. If you fail, I will have you shot in your own court-yard. You hear! No excuses will avail. Till then you are a prisoner in your own house."

      "If I am a prisoner, how am I to raise the money, general?" asked the judge.

      "That is your concern," rejoined Massey. "Have it I must—or you die!"

      As he turned to quit the room, he perceived Charles standing behind him.

      "Ah! sire," he exclaimed. "I did not know you were here."

      "Am I indeed in the king's presence?" exclaimed Judge Lechmere, with well-feigned astonishment.

      "You are in the presence of the sovereign to whom your allegiance is due, my lord judge," rejoined Charles, with dignity.

      "Whatever my feelings may be towards your majesty," said Lechmere, "I cannot consistently——"

      "You dare not declare yourself in my favour, eh, judge?" cried Charles. "Well, I will give you till Thursday for reflection. Naturally, you are included in the general pardon I have published, and if you then return to your allegiance, I shall be disposed to forget the past, and will remit the heavy fine imposed upon you by General Massey. Nay, I will do more; I will take you into my favour."

      "I thank your majesty for your goodness. I will perpend the matter."

      "Methinks it requires little consideration," observed Charles, somewhat sternly. "You have to choose between your lawful king and a usurper. You will best consult your own interests in serving me."

      "I am inclined to believe so, sire—nay, I am certain—yet give me till Thursday."

      "I have said it," rejoined Charles. "I now leave you in General Massey's hands."

      With a grave bow to the judge, who had rushed forward as if to throw himself at his majesty's feet, but stopped suddenly, he quitted the room, followed by Massey.

      As he crossed the hall he laughed heartily.

      "Your judge will turn Royalist on Thursday, if nothing happens to-morrow," he said.

      On quitting Severn End, Charles accompanied General Massey to Upton.

      They rode through Hanley, where a stately pile belonging to the Earls of Gloucester once stood, and where Massey's troops were now encamped.

      The general had with him a detachment of five hundred horse and a regiment of dragoons, and he assured the king that he felt confident of preventing the enemy's passage at Upton Bridge, come in what force he might.

      Together they carefully examined the fine old bridge, which, like the bridges of Worcester and Powick, was somewhat narrow, but had deep angular recesses. It was strongly built of stone, and had several arches.

      Charles advised its total destruction, but Massey was of opinion that it would suffice to break down the central arch; and the king giving his assent, a large body of men was at once set to work upon the task.

      After witnessing the commencement of the operations, Charles took leave of Massey, urging him to be more than ever vigilant, as the safety of the army now depended on him, and rode on with his escort to Powick.

      The security of this important pass seemed to be guaranteed by the presence of General Montgomery and Colonel Kirke, with two battalions of foot and a regiment of horse, and Charles, with a mind very much quieted, crossed the river to Worcester.

CHAPTER VIII.

       Table of Contents

      OF THE COUNSEL GIVEN BY COLONEL LESLEY TO THE KING.

      When Charles arrived at the palace, the war council was already assembled. Several general officers, however, were necessarily absent.

      A long and anxious discussion ensued, and great diversity of opinion prevailed—jealousies having sprung up amongst the commanders. His grace of Buckingham hated the Duke of Hamilton, and derided his plans; but his own rash counsels were rejected.

      Charles felt sure, he declared, that he should be largely reinforced by the levies which the Earl of Derby was bringing from Lancashire and Cheshire. But he cared not if his army should be inferior to that of the enemy in number.

      "There is no fear of treachery," he said. "The loyalty of the citizens of Worcester is unquestionable. They will fight for me as bravely as they fought for the king, my father. No defeat will subdue them. But why do I talk of defeat? Let us speak of the victory, that is certain."

      "The next battle must be decisive, sire," remarked the Duke of Hamilton. "We must conquer, or die."

      "We will conquer," cried Charles, energetically.

      "We will," cried several voices.

      Having remarked that Lesley took no part in the conference, the king drew him aside and inquired the meaning of his sombre looks.

      "Are you afraid of Cromwell?" he asked.

      "I am afraid of my own men, sire," replied Lesley. "They are discontented, and do all I can, I am unable to remove their dissatisfaction."

      "Of what grievance do they complain?" asked Charles.

      "I need not remind your majesty, that nearly five thousand Scottish soldiers have returned to their own country since we crossed the Border——"

      "Deserted, if you please, colonel," interrupted Charles.

      "Well, deserted, sire. But they had this excuse. Being zealous Presbyterians, they had conscientious scruples against establishing the Episcopal government in England by force of arms; and like sentiments prevail, to a great extent, among the remainder of the troops. Since our arrival at Worcester their discontent has perceptibly increased. They do not like to fight with the Cavaliers. For this reason, they are not pleased with the Muster about to take place to-day, neither do they desire to be joined by the levies promised by the Earl of Derby."

      "They fear that my devoted adherents may become too strong for them. Is it not so, colonel?" asked Charles, coldly.

      "They deem that a preponderance of the royal party—strictly so called—though we are all Royalists—would be contrary to the true interests of Scotland, and to the welfare of the Kirk."

      "Ah, I see!" exclaimed the king. "The Committee of the Kirk of Scotland have troubled their consciences—meddlesome fools that