XXXVI
Of the End of Our Search
“Alas, Will!” whispered Philip, as Captain Trevor approached us, “we are on the wrong track. This man is innocent enough. We have been fooled somewhere.”
“And what brings you here, gentlemen?” asked Captain Trevor, shaking hands with both. “Are you on some similar mission to my own? I am taking a troop of horse to Newark—’tis my first adventure, Master Dale, since I left you.”
“Alas!” said Philip, “we are on a sad adventure indeed, and just now our prospects look black enough. However, there is one load off our minds, as you shall hear;” and he forthwith proceeded to give an account of all that had befallen us from the time that Belwether brought us the bad news to Pontefract Castle even to that moment.
Now, while he spoke Captain Trevor gave evidence of the keenest interest and of the liveliest indignation, and when Philip Lisle told him of our meeting with Dennis Watson, and of what Dennis had said respecting him, his face flushed and his hand grasped the hilt of his sword in a way that boded no good to his false accuser.
“But you believed him not, gentlemen?” he said earnestly. “I trust you believed him not. And yet why have you come here if you did not believe him? Alas, gentlemen, I should have thought you had known me better than to believe me guilty of such black conduct!”
“Sir,” said I, “let me tell you that in my heart I did not believe it, but there were two witnesses against you, and we were bound to satisfy ourselves in justice to ourselves and to you. Besides, we thought it possible that some terrible mistake had arisen.”
“Yes, yes,” said he; “but, oh, gentlemen, it is you who have made a terrible mistake. Can you not see, Master Dale, that the man who so falsely accused me is the man who hath wrought this mischief?”
“Dennis Watson?”
“Dennis Watson of a surety. Did I not hear, when I was at Dale’s Field, that he was your enemy and had more than once vowed to do you an injury? Rest assured, Master Dale, that it is he who hath planned and carried out this matter.”
Then I saw what fools we had been, and how easily Dennis Watson had duped us, and I swore a great oath that whenever he and I next met, whether in highway or byway, street or marketplace, in church or court, there one of us two should go forth no more. And that oath I kept, even as God willed it.
“And now, gentlemen,” said Captain Trevor, “you must back to yonder wayside inn that you spoke of, for it is there that you will find the key to this mystery. Yea, I am convinced that the host who bore out Watson’s statement is implicated with him in this plot against you. Now, it will not be so much out of our way to go with you, for we can make Newark by way of Retford, so mount, gentlemen, and let us push on.”
“But these men?” said I, pointing towards the farmstead, which now stood white and clear in the moonlight. “Shall we not see to the one that is living?”
“Nay,” said Trevor, “his companion will presently return when he sees us ride away, and we have no time to attend to cutthroats. I have long known that this gang needed stamping out, Master Dale, and am obliged to you for what you have done. So now let us away.”
And with that we got into our saddles and departed, soon leaving the ruined farmstead far behind; and from that day to this I have never heard whether the man died or whether he recovered, nor did I much care, considering what trouble of mind he and his companions had put me to.
We rode along through the valleys between the hills during the whole of that night, and came in sight of Sheffield about six o’clock in the morning. But into Sheffield Captain Trevor would not go, because it was principally in the hands of the Parliamentarians, and we therefore took a roundabout direction southwards of the town, and went towards Rotherham by way of Beauchief Abbey and the villages of Woodhouse and Whiston. At Rotherham we stayed to bait our horses, it being then almost noon and the march having lasted nearly twelve hours. Here we heard news of his Majesty’s success at Leicester, which was communicated to us by a messenger going north from Newark. Here, too, we learnt that the King had expressed his hopes of shortly achieving a great victory over the Roundheads, which hopes, however, were unfulfilled, for the battle of Naseby, which took place a few days later, routed the Royalist army forever.
It was about two o’clock in the afternoon when we left Rotherham and proceeded along the highway in the direction of Thrybergh. The wayside inn where we had seen Dennis Watson lay halfway between these two places, and it was not long before we came in sight of it and drew up to confer amongst ourselves as to what plan of action we should pursue.
“Leave it to me,” said Captain Trevor. “If matters are as I suspect, I will bring them to a successful ending. Do you, gentlemen, lie behind a little, while I and my men ride forward. We will call for drink, and while we are busy with our tankards at the inn-door you will ride up and presently begin to soundly rate the landlord for falsely directing you the other day. After which leave matters to me.”
Acting upon this advice, we let Captain Trevor and his men ride on until they came to the door of the inn, where they were presently waited upon by the host, whom we took to be the man that had lied to us two days previously. This person brought out to them stoups of liquor, and while he stood at the door waiting their pleasure, Philip and I rode forward and suddenly made our appearance between him and the troopers. And we had no sooner drawn rein than I perceived that the fellow instantly recognised us, for he changed colour and gave a sharp backward look over his shoulder, as though he contemplated a retreat into the inn.
“How now, sirrah!” cried Philip. “A fine dance you have given us with your false news. You shall account to us pretty heavily for it, I promise you.”
“I know not what your worship means,” stammered the man, beginning to look very much afraid.
“What, hast thou the impudence to say so? Hark ye, sirrah, did not my friend here and myself call at your house for refreshment but two days ago?”
“Yes, sir, yes, certainly.”
“And did we not make inquiry of thee, and didst thou not affirm that a young gentleman and his two servants had lately met a young lady at this inn and gone forward with her?”
“Yes, your worship, but ’twas only truth.”
“Hah, truth quotha! And did not Dennis Watson that was here at the time, and whom I doubt not thou knowest over-well—did he not tell us in thy hearing that the young gentleman was one Captain Trevor?”
“I believe Master Watson did say so,” faltered the man “Yes, I remember it very well.”
“Then thou liest, villain, and so did he,” struck in Captain Trevor, “for I am the man he spoke of, and it is months since I rode by thy rascally dwelling. And I would have you know, sirrah, that I am a magistrate and bear the King’s commission to put down naughty conduct such as thine.”
Now, when the man heard this he began to shake somewhat, but presently, plucking up courage, he replied that he feared naught, having done no wrong, and that there was law to protect him as well as another.
“As to what Master Watson said,” he continued, “what have I to do with it? Did I mention Captain Trevor’s name? Marry, I never heard it before this day. What I said, gentlemen, was out of my own knowledge, nor do I know whether what Master Watson said be true or not!”
“Master innkeeper,” said Captain Trevor, “thou art a pitiful liar and a knave. Now, we will tell thee for thy further information that there hath lately been a young lady kidnapped, whose friends we are, come hither to avenge her. And so we are like to have the truth out of thee, master innkeeper, for we think thou knowest something of this matter.”
Now, the man by that time was very much affrighted and began to shake in his limbs, but once more plucking up courage, he answered that he knew naught of kidnapping and was not to be bullied by any man.
“What, dost dare answer me, a King’s officer!” cried Captain Trevor. “Here, men, dismount and seize him!”
“ ’Tis at your peril!” said the man, struggling violently to free himself from the clutches of the two stalwart troopers who had seized him on either side. “You have no warrant to lay hands on me.”
“Warrant or no warrant, thou wilt find we shall treat thee as we please,” said Captain Trevor. “Come, sirrah, tell us presently what you know of this Watson that conspired with you here. And speak trippingly, or we will find means to help your tongue.”
“You dare not use violence,” said the man, half struggling between fear of us and defiance of our presence.
“Dare not? Friend, thou knowest not what thou art saying.”
“There is law for me as well as anybody,” said the man.
“Yea, and we are come to execute it. We will be counsel and jury and judge all in one. Now come, sirrah, speak.”
But the man did naught but shake his head and grumble, whereat Captain Trevor bade them bind his eyes and tie him to his own pump, at the same time ordering his troopers to make ready their pistols.
“For indeed,” said he, with a roguish wink of the eye in our direction, “we shall be forced to resort to extreme measures, master landlord, unless you speak without more delay.”
Now, the innkeeper’s wife, who had been washing or baking at the rear of the house, at last came to the conclusion that there was something wrong at her front door, wherefore she left her work, and came upon us just as the men were fastening up the protesting landlord to the pump. And she, seeing him blindfolded, and the men standing around him with pistols in their hands, immediately set up such a screaming that the horses began to rear and prance.
“Ah!” said Captain Trevor, “there is a more powerful instrument than any we have used so far. Come, mistress, an you would not see your husband slaughtered before your eyes, tell him to speak.”
“Oh, speak, good Gregory, speak, good, kind Gregory! Oh, masters, spare him! Gregory, dost not hear, thou woodenhead? Alack-a-day, I knew thou wouldst cause ill out of yond business, only thou wouldst not hearken to me. Did I not say ’twas a shame and a sin—and as sweet and gentle a young lady as ever breathed?”
“Take off the bandage,” said Captain Trevor. “Come, Master Gregory, we would hear something further about this young lady. Speak out, man.”
Now, the landlord, having darted a glance at his spouse which boded her no good, stood angrily regarding us until a trooper lifted his pistol to his forehead and touched the trigger, whereupon he suddenly said that he would lead us to where the young lady was if we would molest him no further.
“As to that we will promise naught,” said Captain Trevor, “for thou art in our power. Tie him up with your halter, Trooper Whiteman, and drive him wherever he wants us to go.”
Upon this the man set off surlily enough, and we followed him, Philip and myself anxious and eager now that we knew Rose was near at hand. The innkeeper turned into the meadow at the rear of his house, and crossing it, led us into a thick belt of wood where the only path was a narrow one, so that we were bound to ride in single file.
“Come hither, gentlemen,” said Captain Trevor, dismounting and taking up a position by our prisoner. “This fellow shall tell us what he knows. Now, sirrah, speak plainly.”
Thus adjured, the man confessed, with much reluctance, that himself and another, instigated by Dennis Watson, had brought away a young lady from Dale’s Field, and had secured her in a lonely house beyond the belt of wood we were now approaching, where she had since been guarded by the other man and his wife.
“But, indeed, gentlemen,” he said in conclusion, “indeed there hath no harm befallen the maiden, and no insult hath been offered her. Of a surety I should not have meddled with the matter if there had been aught evil. Nay, Master Watson did warrant us ’twas naught but a love affair, and that he was rescuing the young lady—”
“Hold thy tongue, sirrah!” commanded Captain Trevor. “A villainous pack are ye all, and shall be punished soundly for your pains. Is yond the house thou speak’st of, sirrah?”
The man answered humbly enough that it was, and we filed out of the wood and went across a clearing towards it. But we had not gotten within fifty paces of it, when one of our vanguard cried out that there was a man escaping from the house into the fields beyond, and at the same moment another announced the flight of a woman in another direction.
“ ’Tis Tom Porter and his wife,” said our guide. “They have seen us coming and are fleeing for their lives.”
“A crown piece to the men who first lay hands on them,” said Captain Trevor, and forthwith the leading troopers went galloping over hedge and ditch after the fugitives, while the rest of us went on to the house.
And now I need hardly tell you with what joy Philip Lisle and myself found our dear Rose, who was busy unfastening the door when we reached the house, her gaolers having left her when they saw us approaching. Then our terrible anxiety was relieved, for she hastened to assure us that she was no worse for her adventures, and had kept up her courage by telling herself that we should ere long come to her assistance.
Now, by that time the soldiers had brought back the man and woman, and Captain Trevor and I went out to them, leaving Rose with her father.
“What shall we do with these knaves, Master Dale?” said Captain Trevor. “We cannot whip the woman, so let her go, men. But as for you, master innkeeper, and you, master innkeeper’s brother villain, we will make you dance to such a tune as you ne’er heard before.”
And with that he caused his men to tie the two men up to a stout oak, one on each side, and having stripped them to their waists, the troopers gave them such a sound thrashing with their halters that the wood reechoed with their unheeded cries for mercy. But I regretted very deeply that Dennis Watson was not there to settle his account with me, which I would have exacted of him in a still more stringent fashion.