The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 159: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

@ (Gre 142 the blazing wood fire, when a astripling entered: and whispered a few words in his ear. A gloomy smile overspread the man’s face. “ Comrades,” he said, “it has happened as I forethought it would happen, Instead of en- trusting us, his known and tried friends, with the charge of his dispatch to Oarisbrook, he has given it into the hands of this armourer’s ap- preptice, who, on so many occasions, has robbed us of our laurels.” A groan of dissatisfaction followed these words, and the stern Puritan glanced round eagerly as if to see how far the assembly would be likely to proceed in order to prove their anger at this new evidence of their commander's mis- trust, He smiled as he did so. It was clear from the expression of their faces that most of them, at any rate, were animated by the most. fierce emotions of anger and hatred, and the trooper who had first spoken was not slow in perceiving it. “ Close the door, Edwin,” he said, addressing the youth who had brought him the unwelcome intelligence, “close the door; for in these accursed palaces one knows not what ears are listening.” The boy did at once as he was bidden, and the soldier, beckoning hia companions to gather round him, proceeded— ‘My friends, at this moment Harold Fordyce and his master are receiving from Cromwell a dispatch for the governor of Carisbrook Castle, where, as we all know, the man Charles Stuart is confined. The only way in which we can weaken Cromwell's faith in him is by following him, and taking from him this important letter. The more important it is, and the more delay that occurs through ita not being delivered at the proper moment, the more furious will Crom- well be at ita loss. In his passion he will blame the Young Apprentice for what will not really be his fault. I for one will volunteer fon the expedition, Two more are needed; who will join me?” As ‘every one in the room expressed their willingness and eagerness to be of the party, Luke Howlett, the trooper, was compelled to make his own choice of companions. He chose, accordingly, two of those whom he considered the most desperate among them— Silas Lloyd, the son of a butcher, and Leonard Maxwell, a heavy fellow, who had becn a vagrant, and had only joined the army of the Parliament because he was starving, and had nothing to do. ‘‘About our leave of absence!” suggested Silas, * Oh, as for that,” cried Luke Howlett, ‘never trouble yourself about that. In all this con- Prion they neither know nor care who is here nd who isaway. Follow me, and fear no- thing.” The two desperadoes rose from their chairs, and followed Luke Howlett out into the dark passage which led into the back grounds, Along this they hurried, and giving the pass- word at the door, they proceeded to the stables and selected their horses. In a few minutes they were on their wa solving to make towards a certain they felt certain they would meet the armourer on their journey. Harold and Leslie, meanwhile, had already T@- olnt where ordyce and THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, started on their way, little dreaming of the bloodthirsty crew who had started by a shorter route to intercept them. CHAPTER XVIII. THE KING IN PRISON-—THE WATCH-TOWER AND THE LIGHT AT SEA—THE BOAT FROM THE FOREIGN SHIP—CAPTAIN CHORLTON'S RUSE—THE ATTEMPTED ESCAPE—THE CON- CEALED GUARD. BEATEN by the Parliamentary troops under Cromwell, betrayed by the Scotch people, and nearly broken hearted, the king, Charles Stuart, after being placed first in one fortress aud then in another, was now really a prisoner. Confined in a narrow space—having only the small yard to walk in, and a small room to live in—he had yet a view of pleasant land on one side and the rolling sea on the other. Often, often the wretched monarch, victim of his own follies, glanced over the rolling ocean, the very essence and type of freedom, and longed to fioat away over its boundless bosom to some place where he could be at rest. Yet the spirit of ambition was atill strong within him. The overbearing belief in the rectitude of his own actions, the reckless insolence which made him cry down the men who afterwards sat in judgment upon him, even now filled his breast, « Again and again the queen had implored him to fly with her to Brance. Again and again those around him had begged him not to trust himself to the treacherous Scots, but to make his way toa foreign country, where he might obtain protection, if not aid. Bat, no! . In his own mind no one was capable of ad- vising him. Knowing best, therefore, he trusted the Scots, was betrayed, and was now in close confine- ment, with only one friend near him, Colonel Chorlton. The chances of escape seemed truly small. The castle was guarded everywhere. Look where you would the sombre aspect of the Puritan trooper and the gleam of his musket was to be met with. A war veasel, ready to take Charles at once to France, tossed uselessly out at sea, By day its dark hull could readily be dis- tinguished. At pight a red light hung on its bows could be discerned as it rose and fell with the swell of the waters, casting a gloom of sorrow and des- pair on the heart of the king, who was now always full of dismal forebodings. About four days after that on which Harold met Cromwell at Whitehall, Colonel Chorlton, the faithful companion of his royal master, en- tered the king’s room suddenly, ‘ Sire,” he said, in a low tone, “I fancy that through the dark mista of these troublous days I, at length, sce a light.” The king smiled... ‘J fear that the wish is father to the thought,” said Charles Stuart. ‘‘ There seems to be no chance now of ever escaping from these villains save by death.” “My king, I think otherwise,” returned the colonel, enthusiastically, GOVE OO ©