Part 28

About the close of day, the towers of "proud Preston" were seen rising above the broad sweep of the river below Penwortham Bridge. The situation chosen by our ancestors for the erection of "_Priest's Town_"--so called because the majority of its inhabitants in former times were ecclesiastics--evinces the discriminating eye of a priest, and shows that, whether the religious orders selected a site for an abbey or for a city, they were equally felicitous in their choice. Placed at a convenient distance from the sea, upon the elevated banks of one of the finest rivers in England, with a mild climate and a dry soil, and commanding a rich assemblage of picturesque views, in one of the most interesting portions of Ribblesdale, the spirit of St Wilfred himself, to whom the parish church is dedicated, and who was the most accomplished ecclesiastic of his age, must have animated the mind that fixed upon this spot.[18]

Grimes, adjusting his satchel and other appendages, trudged warily on, according to the directions he had procured from his guides, in respect to lodgings. His route lay up Fishergate; and on his way, near the Town Hall, his progress was interrupted by a dense crowd. The soldiers and local authorities were just conveying a prisoner of some note from the hall of justice to head-quarters at the Bull Inn, under a strong guard.

Grimes, impelled by curiosity, and likewise having an idea that it might be one of the rebels, with whom he still connected the disappearance of his daughter, thrust himself, edgeways, into the crowd; his primitive appearance causing no slight merriment amongst the bystanders.

Guarded by soldiery and a bevy of constables before and behind, came a tall, muscular figure, attired in a ragged suit--probably a disguise, and not of the most reputable or becoming description. He looked haggard and dejected--harassed, in all likelihood, by long watching and fatigue. His hair was intensely black, surmounted by a coarse cap or bonnet, such as the mechanics then wore at their ordinary occupations.

The old man looked steadfastly at the prisoner.

"Surely it cannot be!" said he half-aloud. He pressed into the foremost rank, and near enough to receive a lusty blow from one of the constables; but not before he had, with an exclamation of joy and astonishment, recognised the features of his former servant and dumb inmate at the farm.

Grimes, caring not a whit for the blow, in his ready and imprudent zeal stepped up to the leader of the party, thinking there was doubtless some mistake in the person they had seized, and anxious, too, for an opportunity of speaking with the prisoner anent his errand.

"Stand back!" said the official representative gruffly.

"Friend, I know thy prisoner well. He was lodged and victualled at my house not six weeks agone."

"The ---- he was; then we may as well try a hand with thee too," said the constable.

But the simplicity and openness of the old man was his protection; for the constable walked on, without deigning to bend his truncheon to such low and inglorious enterprise.

"But look thee," said the pertinacious and unsuspecting fisherman, "he is my servant; and you are i' the wrong to capture him without my privity."

"And who art thou?" inquired another of these myrmidons of justice, eyeing Grimes and the cut of his habiliments from head to foot. "I do bethink me thou art i' the roll. Thee would make a grim fixture for a pole here hard by." He looked significantly towards the reward of treason hung in front of the Town Hall above them.

"Like enough!" said the other, taking the offender by the collar; who, astonished beyond measure at this proceeding, was unable for a while to give such an account of himself as to satisfy the officers and regain his liberty. The prisoner looked at him, but did not betray the least symptom of acknowledgment.

"Ill-mannered varlet!" thought the old man; "but what can they be a-wanting with our Dummy?"

Still urged on by the crowd, he resolved to see an end of the business; so, pushing with them through the gateway of the inn, he came so near the prisoner as to touch him gently by the sleeve during the press and scuffle in the entry. For a moment--and it was a glance observed by the fisherman alone--the pale features of the unfortunate rebel showed a glimpse of recognition; but immediately they relapsed into their former stern though melancholy expression.

Being much amazed at this conduct, the old man could not forbear exclaiming--

"Varlet!--my daughter--thou"----But the prisoner was out of sight and hearing, and the crowd were driven from the gateway. Grimes heard a few of the bystanders speaking of some great man that was taken, and of the reward that would be obtained for his apprehension; but the old fisherman smiled at their ignorance. He knew better. It was none other than his dumb retainer at the farm; and he set his wits to work--no despicable auxiliaries at a pinch--in order to procure an interview.

In vain he attempted to persuade such of the crowd as would give him a hearing of the real state of the case, and the great injustice of the man's arrest. But they listened to him with impatience and suspicion. The old man was doubtless either crazed or guilty as one of the rebel

## partisans.

"I tell thee what, old crony; if thou dost not change thy quarters, we will lay thee by the heels i' the cage, presently. Budge! move, quick; or"----Here the speaker, a little authoritative-looking personage, would have made a movement corresponding to the words; but Grimes, perceiving that he was not to be trifled with, unwillingly drew aside out of harm's way.

Hungry, weary, and dispirited, the old man inquired his way to an obscure lodging in one of the wynds near the market. It was a low, dismal-looking tavern, wherein sat two or three unwashed artificers, drinking beer and devouring the news.

"I'm right fain he's taken," said one of the politicians, whose black leathern apron and smutty face betokened his occupation. "There's but old Lovat, they say, now, to chop shorter by a handful of brains. Proud Preston, say I, for ever. Hurra!"

"Ay, and the mayor's wife too, say I; and may she never want a pair of garters to tuck round a rebel's neck!" replied a little giggling, good-humoured fellow, who seemed to imbibe ale as he drew his breath--both being vitally necessary to his existence.

"She's a rare wench, and would sooner see a rebel hanged, than bod her nose at a basin of swig and roasted apples."

"She played the husband's part to some purpose when Charles Edward levied the tribute forsooth, Mr Mayor being gone to look after his children, by Longridge; but old Sam the beadle says he was afeard o' the wild Highlanders, and slunk out of the way."

Whilst this conversation was going on Grimes untied his handkerchief, doffed his stocking boots, and embracing his satchel, drew forth a piece of hard, unsavoury cheese, and some barley-cake, with which he proceeded to entertain, if not satisfy, his stomach. A glass of beer finished this frugal repast, when the old man retired into the shadow of a huge projecting chimney, ruminating on the perplexities by which he was encompassed, and on the possibility of his final extrication. Opposite to him, in the shadow, as if shunning observation, sat another person who appeared wishful to avoid any intercourse with the guests. Grimes stretched his gaunt figure on a bench beside the hearth, as though desirous to let in the dark waters of oblivion upon his spirit.

The hostess was bustling in and out, doubtless impatient at this prolonged stay when the cup was empty; and, in one of these inspectory visits, the old man addressed her, scarcely raising his contemplative gaze from the embers, where he had been poking his eyes out for the last half-hour.

"I want a bed for the night, good dame."

"We have none to spare," said the dissatisfied landlady--"for such guests as thee," perhaps she would have added, but the stranger from the opposite corner interrupted her.

"He shall have mine: I can lie on the squab."

The voice of the speaker was soft and musical, apparently in a disguised tone.

"You're very kind, sir," said the hostess; "but this over-thrifty customer may find other guess places i' the town; unless, indeed, he chooses to pay handsomely for the lodging."

"And then, maybe," said the stranger, "the siller would find out a bed to lie in."

"I could lend him mine, perhaps," returned the accommodating landlady.

"Then here's a crown," said the other, "and let the old man be both fed and bedded. I have money enough; and his purse, I think, is not overstocked with provision, if we may guess by the lining of his wallet."

The dame, growing courteous in an instant, promised as good a bed as King George himself slept in that blessed night. The astonished fisherman could hardly credit his senses. He thanked his stars for this unexpected interposition; nor would he refuse the gift, though from the hands of a stranger.

The latter shortly afterwards retired to rest; and the political weaver and blacksmith, having settled the hanging, drawing, and quartering of the unfortunate prisoner, not without a full and minute-description of this disgusting and barbarous, though to them diverting process, called for a parting cup, to drink confusion to the rebels and a speedy dismissal to the Chevalier.

Old Grimes retired also; and in a low wide room, white-washed and bare-walled, containing a broken chair, two-thirds of a table, and a bed without tester, covered with a thick blue quilt, was deposited the mortal fabric of the weary fisherman.

He could not sleep for a considerable time; the strange events he had witnessed, the excitement he had undergone, together with the rude brawls beneath his window, prevented him from closing his eyes until past midnight. He heard not a few loyal home-made songs, by the red-hot braggarts, pot-valiant and full of "gentle minstrelsie," as they trolled lustily past his lodging. Amongst many others, the following seemed an especial favourite:--

1. "Down wi' the Papists an' a', man, Down wi' the priest and confession; Down wi' the Charlies an' a', man, And up wi' the Duke an' the nation.

2. "There's Townley, an' Fletcher, an' Syddal, And Nairn, wi' his breeks wrang side out, man; Some ran without breeks to their middle, But Charlie ran fastest about, man."

After a while, the sounds began to mingle confusedly with the images floating on his own sensorium. He felt as though unable to separate them: ideal forms took up the real impressions, and arrayed themselves so cunningly withal, that to his mind's eye the image of his daughter seemed to approach. The brawling ceased; the room was lighted up. It was his own chamber, and Katherine sprang towards him, smiling as she was wont, for her usual "Good-night." "God bless thee, my child!" said he, as he threw his arms about her. Starting up, awake, at the sound of his own voice, he found that he had not grasped a shadow; but a being, real and substantial, was in his embrace. Grimes was horribly alarmed.

"Father, it is I," said a soft whisper. It was the voice of his daughter.

"Hush!" said she; "be silent, for your life and mine. You shall know all; but not now. Fear not for me. I'm safe; but I will not leave _him_--my companion--yonder unfortunate captive. Help me, and I'll contrive his rescue."

"_Thy_ companion, wench! why, how is this? Art"----

"Honest and true, as he is faithful. We may yet be happy as we once were, when this fearful extremity is past. Say no more; we may be overheard. Now aid me; for without our help he is lost! and, oh, refuse not this one, perhaps this last request of thy child!"

She fell upon his neck, and the old man was moved to an unwonted expression of tenderness; for truly his daughter was dearer to him than any earthly object; and still dearer in the moment when the lost one was restored.

"To-morrow night," said the maiden, "bring your boat, with four stout rowers, to the quay at Preston Marsh. Let me see; ay, the moon is near two days old, and the tide will serve from nine till midnight. You know the channel well, and wait there until I come."

"Kattern, thou shall go with me. I'll not leave thee now."

"Nay," said the faithful girl; "I must not; I _will_ not. There is life depending on my endeavours. Father," continued she, throwing her arms round the old man's neck, who now sobbed aloud, "hear me; no power shall force me to leave him now in misery and misfortune. I would move the very stones for his rescue; and cannot I move thee?"

"Well, Kattern, I am a silly and a weak old body, and thou--But thou art disguised. Where didst get that coat? and--I declare--trousers. For shame, wench!"

"Nay, you shall know all, father, when I return; when we have delivered him, and not before."

The old man was too much overjoyed not to promise the requisite attendance.

"My life depends on 't, father; so good-night."

"Stay--stay, wench--a moment!"

But a light step, and the sound of a gently-closing door, announced her departure; and Grimes was forced to remain, where he lay sleepless on his pallet, impatiently awaiting daybreak.

With the first peep of dawn was old Grimes astir; and the lark was but just fluttering from the dew when the quaint, angular form of the mariner was again seen plodding towards the coast.

"Since that plaguy box came into my fingers, I've had neither rest nor luck. I'll ne'er meddle with stray goods again while I live!" and in this comfortable determination he continued, thinking of his bonny Kattern to lighten the toil of his long and lonesome journey.

The same day the sun lighted early on the towers and gables of "Proud Preston." Longridge Fell threw off its wreath of mist; but on the river a long and winding vapour followed its course, everything betokening one of those pure, exhilarating days that so rarely visit our watery and weeping regions.

* * * * *

The mayor was but just awakened; yet Mrs Mayor had long been vigilantly engaged in household and political affairs (for she ruled the civic power in Preston's thrice happy borough), when a stranger came on some business of importance.

"What is your will, my good friend?" inquired the mayoress, taking off a light pair of shagreen-mounted spectacles; for being of that debatable age when time is hardly known by his advances on the person, having just mounted these helps occasionally, as she said, when mending a pen or sewing fine work, she cared not to show that they were in use at other seasons more germane to their purpose.

"I would have a word in private with the mayor."

"Mr Mayor has no words in private that come not through his lady's ear. Once more, your business?"

"I must see him, and alone," said the intruder.

"_Must_ see him?" replied the female diplomatist; "I tell you that you shall not see him before I am acquainted with the cause. I hear your master on the floor above," said she to a servant who had just entered; "tell him he need not hurry down; breakfast is not yet ready."

The servant retired as he was bid; but, having heard more of the foregoing colloquy than his mistress intended, the message, as delivered to his worship, was of an opposite tenor from what he had been charged with. The stranger continued firm in his determination not to divulge his errand; and the anxiety of the ruling power to ascertain his motive would not suffer her to dismiss him.

Great was the disappointment and dark the storm on the lady's brow, when, beslippered and begowned, came in hastily the chief magistrate of this ancient borough.

"A word in your worship's ear," said the stranger; "my time is short and the affair is urgent."

"Speak out; my wife shares the burdens of this office, and, indeed"----

"But, sir, I crave an audience in private. Should you not grant my request, there be other ears shall have the benefit of what is meant for your own."

The magistrate quailed before the terrors of his wife's frown; but however dangerous the duty--and it was fraught with no ordinary peril--still, in his official capacity, he could not refuse to grant the stranger a private interview.

The mayor was a round, full-eyed personage, whose cheek and nose displayed the result of many a libation to the jolly god. Short-legged, short-breathed, and full-paunched, he strode, quick and laborious, like a big-bellied cask set in motion, as if glad to escape, into a small back chamber, furnished with two stools, a desk, and sundry big books--implements in use only as touching his private affairs.

"Now, sir," said his majesty's vicegerent, puffing from unwonted exertion, "it is my lot to fill the civic chair in these troublous times; and truly my portion is not in pleasant places; but I am loyal, sir, loyal. The king has knighted many a servant less worthy than myself; and, but that Mrs Mayor is looking forward to the title, there would be little good-will to the office from 'my lady' that is to be. Now, sir."

The garrulous and ambitious minister of justice here paused, more for lack of breath than words or will to utter them; and the stranger, who had hitherto kept his hat just below his chin, waiting for a pause in this monologue, replied--

"My message respects your prisoner."

"Well, sir, go on. Proceed, sir, I say. What! can't you speak? Why stand there as if stricken dumb in our presence?"

The stranger did proceed the moment that an interval was granted.

"I am brief, your worship."

"Brief--brief--so am I; and my lady--that is, Mrs Mayor--though she likes that I should, in some sort, furnish my tongue to an acquaintance with the speech, so that I often speak of and to her as such, you observe, that when it may seem good unto his Majesty's pleasure, knighting my poor honesty"--here he made a slight obeisance--"the words may fall trippingly off the tongue, as though we were used to the title, and wore our honours like they who be born to them, sir. Proceed, sir. Why stand dilly-dallying here? Am I to wait your pleasure?"

"Mine errand is simply this:--A plot is laid for the escape of your prisoner on his way to London; so that, unless means be taken to hinder it, he will be liberated."

"Escape!--what?--where? We will raise the soldiery. How say you? I will tell my lady instantly. Escape! If he escape I am undone. My knighthood--my knighthood, sir, is lost for ever; and my lady--she will ne'er look kindly on me again."

Here the little man arose, and, in great agitation, would have sought counsel from his wife, but the stranger prevented him.

"This must not be; 'tis for your ear alone. Stay!"

His worship was too much alarmed to resist; and the other led him gently from the door.

"If you will be guided by me you may prevent this untoward event. Let him be conveyed with all speed aboard the king's ship that is in the Irish Channel yonder; so shall you quit your hands of him, and frustrate the plans of his confederates. This must be done secretly, or his friends may get knowledge of the matter, who have had a ship long waiting for him privily on the coast to convey him forthwith to Scotland."

"I will about it directly. Dear me, I have left my glasses. The town-clerk must be apprised. The jailer--ay, good--thinkest thou he had not best be committed to jail?"

"Peradventure it will be prudent to do this. I will bear your orders to the town-clerk for his removal."

"What, immediately?"

"When your worship thinks best; but I would recommend despatch."

"I will about it instantly. There--there--take this. I shall be at the clerk's office myself shortly. Tell Mr Clerk to be discreet until I come."

The little twinkling eyes of the functionary were overflowing at the good fortune which revealed to him alone this vile Popish treason. Thus happily frustrated by himself, it would doubtless be the means of raising him from plebeian ranks to the honours of knighthood, perhaps further. His head grew dizzy at the prospect. He shook the stranger by the hand, who bowed and withdrew.

Soon a little antiquated clerk, with green spectacles mounted in huge black rims, and a skin like unto shrivelled parchment, was seen accompanying the stranger to the inn.

The bolts opened to this demi-official, and they were at once ushered into the prisoner's chamber. He had already arisen, and was pacing the apartment in great haste.

"We come, sir," said the clerk, "to announce your removal; but first we search for plots. This rebel's disguise--where, sayest thou, is it concealed?"

"Upon his person," said the stranger.

"Pray doff that noble suit, sir," said the jocose purveyor of justice.

The prisoner, with an angry scowl, in which both grief and astonishment were mingled, silently obeyed the mandate; and displayed, underneath these coarse habiliments, a complete suit of female apparel--the very clothes worn by Katherine Grimes at the time of her disappearance.

"A well-contrived disguise, sir, truly. I wot you can suddenly change your gender at a pinch," said the clerk, chuckling at his own impertinence. But the prisoner, no longer dumb, as aforetime at the farm, answered, in a voice that awed even this presuming minion, with all the attributes of both law and power at his grasp.

"Why call you me sir, Sir Knave? I own no nicknames, and I answer to none. My title is Derwentwater."

"The titular earl, truly; but now Charles Ratcliffe, since your brother was"----

"Hanged, thou wouldst say," said the unfortunate and attainted peer, interrupting him; "it was his lot, as I pray thine may be, when the king shall have his own again. Silence!" continued he, in a commanding tone, as one accustomed to be obeyed. "I own it was my purpose to escape; but there is treachery in the camp--treachery in our own bosom--treachery"--here he cast a keen glance at the stranger--"ay, where our best feelings were cherished. I have leaned on a spear, and it hath pierced me! deeper than I thought--in this hard and seared heart."

A strong and painful emotion came over his dark features; he clenched his hands; but the stranger betrayed no symptoms of compunction.

"Now, sir, I am ready," said the earl; "make my fetters tight; or perhaps I may be spared that indignity."

But the proud Earl of Derwentwater would not stoop to propitiate.

"Nay, bind them, and I will be prouder of their insignia than of all the honours, all the trappings, that George Guelph can bestow."

"We have orders merely for your safe keeping in the jail," said the clerk; "to which the proper officers will see you conveyed."