The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 306: what you’re looking at

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

THE WATCHWORDS OF OLD LONDON. Then, suddenly, there burst forth one evening the clash of weapons and the firing of pistols. Some persons, whether friends or foes, were attacking the castellated mansion. It may be imagined with what eagerness the armourer listened to the sounds of strife. They meant to him either death or freedom. Bagerly springing, chained as he was, from his seat, he listened. The sounds of strife approached nearer. Then a thick smoke oozed baneath the door- way. The place was evidently in flames. * Oh! just heaven ! let me not be burned in this place without power of resistance,” cried the armourer. “Give me but my sword and room to fight, and I care not for the number of my enemies ; but to die here, unable to resist — to die like a dog!—Oh! heaven ! it is too much —too much to bear !” A red glow came upon him at the moment. A sudden draught had sent a whirling mass of flame along the corridor, and, in another moment, the door was on fire, The armourer could endure this no longer, With a fierce wrench he broke away from the wall against which he was chained, But he strove in vain to free his wrists. He had not sufficient strength to force the irons from them, and though free from the terrible confinement in which he had been held, he was yet unable to defend himself, The heat was now intense, Tho air was stifling. In a few more minutes it was evident that breathing would be out of the question. Saddenly, as he leaned against the furthest corner of the vault, to keep as far as possible from the fire, there was a sudden darkness, a rushing noise, and a quantity of water dashed through the doorway, Then, amid the steam and the hissing, were heard voices shouting— “ This way—this way to the rescue !”" They were the voices of Harold Fordyce and Lord Olement Villiers. In another moment the manacled arms of the giant armourer were seized in the vigorous grasp of the Young Apprentice, and he was\being borne away in triamph by his friends. The castle had been well defended, but Lady Grace was gone, and no one seemed to care to reveal her place of concealment.’ The safety of Ettie’s father, however, was enough for Harold, and without wasting time in endeavouring to discover what had become of the one who had conceived for him so insane a passion, he proceedei straight to London with his friends. CHAPTER XIII. PRINCE OHARLES—~HIS WANDERINGS — THE BATTLE OF WORCESTER —THE FLIGHT OF THE PRINCOE—THE REFOGE IN LONDON—RICHARBD PENDEREL — CHARLESS ADMIRATION FOR ETTIE — HIS DEPARTURE — THE SUMMONS . ABROAD. Iv is not my intention to enter fully into the wanderings and adventures of Prince Charles at this time, but I must describe here some few incidents, because they brought Harold and his friends in close union with some of the memor- able characters of the period. We must suppose some time to have elapsed between the period of the armourer’s strange adventures and this chapter, which finds England breathing once more after the terrible battle of Worcester—the defeat of the Royalista—which Oliver Cromwell called “the crowning mercy.”’ Prince Charles was hiding away first in one place, then in another, until his friends persuaded him at length to make straight for the coast and fly to France, There was, in very truth, no use in his re- maining, England was unprepared for a renewal of monarchy. It had imbibed Republican ideas, and there promised to be every difficulty in the way of eradicating these ideas, which, when once they take root, are so manfully defended, because they are the primary and true ideas of a nation’s government, So he yielded, Dressed in a plain, humble, and even ragged dress, he entered the great city where his father had breathed his life upon the scaffold, and with his friend, Richard Penderel, sought his way to Clive House, where he trusted to procure a safe asylum till the bark was chartered to convey him from Brighthelmstone* to France. They were making their way along the street, when they observed that they had attracted the obeervation of some men, whose appearance seemed to name them as disbanded soldiers, or troopers in disguise. ‘We are observed,” said the prince. ‘ Our efforts at concealment are not sufficiently good. Let us enter somewhere—anywhere, it matters not—as if business called us, for to be discovered _in London would be rain.” Richard Penderel glanced at the men. They were thronging and whispering together, and glancing ever and anon at the prince and his companion. “ You aze right,” he said, “we are observed. Let us hasten away. See here—this armourer’s shop—this will do admirably.” The shop was Frank Leslie's. Both the giant and his apprentice were at work when they entered ; but the door had no sooner swung to behind them thao Frank Leslie dropped hia tools, ‘© Prince Charles,” he cried, “are you striving to ruin me whom you know to be a friend to the Republic, or are you desirous of thrasting your- self into the jawa of death ?” The prince started back. ‘‘Who are you who know me thus?” he ex- claimed. “Tam Frank Leslie, the armourer, of the Strand, one of your father's declared enemies ; but, nevertheless, fear not. If you seek an asylum, here is one for you. Your blood shall never stain English steel through me.” The prince gazed at him in astonishment, ‘ And you are a Republican,” he said, “a Republican, and spare me?” ‘Tam, and I spare you. As yet you have not offended England, Your father died for his sins against the state; at present, at least, you have * Brighton. GOVE OO ©