No Quarter! Part 30

By the terms of capitulation the soldiers of the vanquished garrison were to march out unmolested. But they must go at once, so as to vacate quarters for the in-coming conquerors. To civilians three days were allowed for decision as to staying or going, with the implied right of removing their effects. This last clause may seem a sorry jest, since there was not much left them for removal. Of course, all who knew themselves compromised, and had the means, decided on going.

Among these, it need scarce be said, was the Master of Hollymead. Under royal ban already, he knew Bristol would no longer be a safe place of residence, either for himself or his daughters. Perhaps he feared more for them under the aegis of such an aunt, and the companions.h.i.+p of such a cousin. The Cavalier wolves would now be ravening about free from all restraint--admitted to Montserrat House, and there made more welcome than ever. Sad he had been at finding his sister so changed; irksome the sojourn under her roof; and now that opportunity offered to take departure he hastened to embrace it. So eager was he to get away from the surrendered city, that he would not avail himself of the three days'

grace, but determined to set forth on the morning after the surrender.

Luckily he had but few effects to embarra.s.s him, having left his plate and other Penates in Gloucester, whither he intended repairing. It remained but to provide transport in the way of saddle-horses, just then a scarce and costly commodity in Bristol. But cost what they might, Ambrose Powell has the means of obtaining them; and that night, ere retiring to rest, he had everything ready, His daughters had been warned and were prepared for the journey; both of them eager as himself to set out upon it--neither caring ever to set eyes on Aunt Lalande or Cousin Clarisse again.

Still another sunrise, and the people of Bristol were treated to a spectacle different from any that had preceded, or they had ever witnessed. They saw the late defenders of their city, now disarmed and half-disbanded, marching away from it, out through its gates, and between files of their foes, these last lining the causeway for some distance outside.

In such cases, among the soldiers of civilised countries, it is a rule, almost universal, that no demonstration be made by the conquerors to insult or further humble the conquered. More often may be heard expressions of sympathy even deeds of kindness done. But all was different at this the first surrender of Bristol. As the defeated soldiers marched out, many with yes downcast and mien dejected, no word nor look of pity was bestowed on them. Instead, they were a.s.sayed with taunts and derisive cries, some even getting kick or cuff as they ran the gauntlet between the lines of their truculent enemies. And these were "the gallants of England," ready to "strike home for their King,"

as one of their songs puts it; but as ready to be spit upon by King, or Prince, if it so pleased him. Gallants indeed! As much desecration of the term applied to the Cavalier of Charles's time as to the music-hall cad of our Victorian era.

The chief exodus of the departing Parliamentarians was by the gate, and along the road leading to Gloucester. There was nothing in the articles of capitulation to hinder them again taking up arms. For reasons already stated they were not prisoners, not bound by _parole d'honneur_, but free to turn round and face the foe now exulting over them whenever opportunity should offer. As a consequence, most took the route for Gloucester, where the stanch Ma.s.sey still held his ground, and would be glad to avail himself of their services.

But not all making away were soldiers. In the stream of moving humanity were citizens, men and women, even whole families who had forsaken their homes, dreading ill-treatment at the hands of the Royalist soldiery; fleeing from Bristol as Lot from the doomed cities of the plain. Among these fugitives many a spectacle of wretchedness was presented, at which the unfeeling brutes who were witnesses but laughed.

Outside, and not far from the gate through which the motley procession was pa.s.sing, Rupert sat in his saddle, the central figure of a group of splendidly uniformed officers. They were his personal staff, with the _elite_ of his army, gathered there to gloat over the humiliation of adversaries who had oft humiliated them. _Gentlemen_ as they deemed themselves, some could not resist gratifying their vengeful spleen, but gave exhibition of it, in speech coa.r.s.e and ribald as any coming from the lips of their rank-and-file followers. In all of which they were encouraged by the approving laughter of their Prince and his high-toned _entourage_.

Never merrier than on that morn were these jovial gentry; believing as they did that the fall of Bristol was the prelude to their triumph over all England, and henceforth they would have it their own way.

While at the height of their exultation a troop came filing along the causeway, the sight of which brought a sudden change over the countenances of the jesters. It was composed of men in cavalry uniform, but afoot and without arms; only some half-dozen--the officers--on horseback. Its standard, too, taken from it, and, perhaps, well it had been. Flouted before the eyes of that Cavalier crew, alike regardless of oath and honour, the banner, showing Crown impaled by Sword, would have been torn to shreds; they bearing it set upon and cut to pieces.

But it needed no ensign, nor other insignia, to tell who the dismounted and dismantled troopers were. Many around Rupert had met, fought with, and fled from them; while all had heard of Sir Richard Walwyn's Horse, and his big sergeant.

These they were, but in woefully diminished numbers--worse than their sorry plight. They had borne the brunt of battle on the southern side; and although they had slain hundreds of the Cornish men, it was with a terrible thinning of their own ranks.

But their gallant leader was still at their head and by his side Eustace Trevor, with his veteran trumpeter Hubert; while, though marching afoot, almost as conspicuous as the mounted ones, there too was the colossal sergeant erst deer-stealer, Rob Wilde. All proudly bearing themselves, notwithstanding what had transpired. No thought of having been conquered had they; instead, the consciousness of being conquerors. And less angry at the men with whom they had been fighting than at him for whom they had fought. Nathaniel Fiennes had either betrayed them and their cause, or proved incapable of sustaining it. It was on that account they looked scowling and sullen, as they filed past Rupert and his surrounding.

But if their black looks were given back by the Royalist officers, these forbore the taunting speech they had hitherto poured upon others.

Something of shame, if not self-respect, restrained them. They knew it would but recoil on themselves, as with curs barking at lions.

As Sir Richard and his troop captain came opposite, two officers alongside Rupert exchanged looks with them of peculiar significance.

Colonel Tom Lunsford and Captain Reginald Trevor these were. Both released from their imprisonment--the latter but the day before--they were now not only free, but in full feather and favour, appointed to the Prince's staff.

The interchange of glances between the _quartette_ was each to each; the ex-lieutenant of the Tower alone regarding the soldier knight, and with a sneer of malicious triumph. He would have added words, but dreaded getting words back that might rake up old scores, as when they last met at Hollymead, exposing his poltroonery. So he contented himself with a sardonic grin, to get in return for it a look of contempt, too scornful and lordly to care for expression in speech.

The play of eyes between the cousins was alike full of meaning, and equally unintelligible to lookers on who knew not the antecedents. But they pa.s.sed words as well; only a remark with rejoinder, the former even unfinished. Reginald, still smarting from the incidents of that night at Montserrat House, could not restrain his tongue; and, as the other came close, he said, with his old affectation of superiority,--

"If I'd only had the chance to meet you on the ramparts yesterday morning, I would--"

"_You_ would be there now, without me," was the interrupting retort.

"Down among the Cornish dead men. That's what you intended telling me, isn't it?"

Thus again getting the better in the encounter of words, with a light laugh Eustace rode on, leaving his cousin angrier than ever, more than ever desirous of crossing swords with him to the cry of "No Quarter!"

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

A PRINCELY ADMIRER.

"Mein Gott, what a sweet _fraulein_! A pair of them! _Wunderschon_!"

It was Prince Rupert who so exclaimed, his eyes turned upon two young girls in a gaze of more than ordinary interest.

Ladies they were, as grace, garb, and other surroundings proclaimed them. On horseback, an elderly gentleman along with them, riding in front; and behind a small retinue of servants, male and female. They had just issued out of the gate as part of the stream of people hastening away from the city, and were coming on towards the spot occupied by the Royalist commander and his staff.

Still looking after the Forest troop, not yet out of sight, Reginald Trevor faced round on hearing the Prince's exclamatory words. Chafed already by the sharp retort of his cousin, what he saw now gave him a fresh spasm of chagrin. Ambrose Powell and his daughters setting off on a journey, evidently for Gloucester, whither Eustace was going too!

Lunsford had also caught sight of them, showing almost as much excitement, with more surprise. Just out of Berkeley Castle, where he had been incarcerated ever since the affair of Edgehill, he had not heard of the Powell family being in Bristol. And now beholding the woman whose beauty had so impressed him while tax-collecting in the Forest of Dean, it gave him a start, succeeded by a feeling of vexation to see she was going away, again to be beyond his reach.

By this the travelling party had got opposite, and were pa.s.sing on.

Poorly mounted all, on horses very different from those they would have been riding around Ruardean. But the sorriness of their nags made no difference as regarded the looks of the ladies. Dignity as theirs was not dependent on extraneous trifles, and for their beauty the very contrast, with the excitement of the situation, but rendered it the more piquant and conspicuous.

The cheeks of both flushed burning red as they came opposite the group of officers. No wonder, with so many eyes bent in bold gaze upon them.

They heard words, too, offensive to female ears.

"It's a pity, Vag," said Sabrina, in an undertone, "we didn't think of putting on our masks."

"Oh! I don't care," rejoined the younger sister, with a jaunty toss of the head. "They may look their owlish eyes out--it matters not to me."

Just then her own eyes encountered another pair, which brought a change over her countenance--Reginald Trevor's. He was gazing at her with an intensity of expression that ill bore out the indifference he pretended when parting with her at the Lalandes' ball. A frown it was now, equally affected, as she knew. And just because of knowing this she did not return it; instead, gave him a look half-kind, half-pitying. If a little coquettish, she was not cruel; and she felt repentful, remembering how on that night she had misled him.

At the same time there was a crossing of eyes between her sister and another officer close by Sabrina saw the man who had so impudently ogled her at Hollymead, knowing him to be Colonel Lunsford. In a similar manner was he acting now, only to get from her a glance of contemptuous scorn, which would have rebuked any other than a brazen Cavalier.

He did quail under it a little, feeling in his heart that if he ever received favour from that lady it would have to be a forced one.

"Who are they?" interrogated the Prince, after they had pa.s.sed, still following them with his eyes. "You appear to know them. Colonel?"

It was Lunsford to whom he addressed himself, observing the look of recognition with which the latter was regarding them.

"Those ladies? Is it they your Royal Highness deigns to inquire about?"

And he pointed to the party which had so interested all.

"_Ya_! Or only one of them, if you like--she with the golden locks. I care not to know the other."

Reginald Trevor had overheard this with a singular revulsion of feeling.

Bitter as it was to him to see Vaga Powell depart, it would now have been worse, the thought of her remaining in Bristol. Angry he was with her, but not so spiteful nor wicked, as to wish her a fate like that.

Well knew he what danger there was to any woman whose beauty tempted Rupert.

Diametrically opposite were the feelings of Lunsford as he listened to the Prince's declared preference. He had feared it was for the elder sister, which would spoil his own chances should such ever come.

Relieved, he made answer,--

"They are sisters, your Royal Highness; the daughters of the gentleman you see along with them."

"Egad! a rich father in the way of womankind. I wouldn't mind pilfering a part of his wealth. That bit of saucy sweetness, with cheeks all roses, ought to be pleasant company. I haven't seen anything to equal her in all your England."

"Then, your Royal Highness, why do you allow them to go?" said Lunsford, speaking in an undertone. "As you see, they're setting off for Gloucester, and it may be some time before an opportunity--"