A Jacobite Exile<br />Being the Adventures of a Young Englishman in the Service of Charles the Twelf, G. A. Henty [best ebook reader android .txt] 📗

your jailer at Bercov, that you were ignorant that Peter Michaeloff was the czar, that I knew that he had kept you in ignorance of it until the end.

"I should have liked to have kept you as my guest for a time, but winter comes on early and suddenly, and if you did not go now you might be detained here until the spring. I have therefore given orders that one of the Swedish vessels we captured on the lake should be got in readiness, and its crew placed on board again. You shall embark in an hour, and it shall carry you to any port in Sweden you may choose. The wind is from the east, and you have every chance of a quick run thither."

Charlie expressed his warm thanks to the czar for his thoughtful kindness.

"I have much to do now," the czar said, "and must hand you over to the care of one of my officers. He will accompany you, in my carriage, to the spot where the vessel is lying, near the mouth of the river, and will there see you on board. Should the fortune of war again throw you into our hands, do not lose an hour in sending a message to Peter Michaeloff."

So saying, the czar shook hands with Charlie, beckoned an officer to him and gave him instructions, and then moved away among the workmen, while Charlie, with his conductor, took their places in the vehicle and drove rapidly off.

An hour later, he was on board the Swedish vessel, whose master and crew were delighted at their sudden and unlooked for release. The former was overjoyed, for the vessel was his own property.

"You will find your things in your cabin, sir," he said. "They were sent on board this morning, together with food and wine sufficient for a month's voyage, whereas, with this wind, we ought not to be more than four days. At which port will you land?"

"I would rather go to Gottenburg, captain, though it is farther for you than Stockholm."

"It shall be Gottenburg, sir. It is thanks to you that I have got my liberty and my ship, and a day or two can make no difference to me."

Charlie, indeed, had thought the matter over as he drove along. He would not be able to rejoin the army until it had gone into winter quarters, and therefore decided that he would go to Gottenburg, apply for six months' leave, and spend the winter with his father. Somewhat puzzled at the mention of his things having gone on board, he went into the cabin, and found there a handsome pelisse trimmed with costly furs, two robes composed of valuable skins, and a change of clothes.

The wind held fair, blowing strongly, and four days later he arrived at Gottenburg.

Chapter 16: In England Again.

Charlie was received with delight by his father, whom he had not seen since the spring of the previous year.

"Then you got my letter, Charlie?" Sir Marmaduke asked, when the first greetings were over. "And yet, I do not see how you could have done so. It is little over a fortnight since I wrote, and I had not looked for you for another month yet."

"I have certainly received no letter, father. A fortnight ago I was in a Russian prison, and my arrival here, in so short a time, seems to me almost miraculous;" and he then briefly related his singular experiences.

"Now about the letter, father," he said, as he concluded. "I suppose you must have written to ask me to get leave for a time, as it seems that you were expecting me shortly. I suppose you felt that you would like me with you, for a time."

"So I should, lad, of that you may be sure, but I should not have called you away for that. No, I had this letter the other day from old Banks. You know he writes to me once a year. His letters have been only gossip so far, for you know my precious cousin kicked him out of the house, as soon as he took possession; but this is a different matter. Read it for yourself."

Charlie took the letter, and with some trouble spelt through the crabbed handwriting.

It began:

"Honoured sir and master, I hope that this finds you and Captain Charles both well in health. I have been laid up with rhematis in the bones, having less comfort in my lodgings than I used to have at Lynnwood. Your honour will have heard that King William has fallen from his horse, and broken his collarbone, and died. May the Lord forgive him for taking the place of better men. Anne has come to the throne, and there were some hopes that she would, of herself, step aside and let him to whom the throne rightly belongs come to it. Such, however, has not been the case, and those who know best think that things are no forwarder for William's death, rather indeed the reverse, since the Princess Anne is better liked by the people than was her sister's husband.

"There is no sure news from Lynnwood. None of the old servants are there; and I have no one from whom I can learn anything for certain. Things however are, I hear, much worse since young Mr. Dormay was killed in the duel in London, of which I told you in my last letter.

"Dame Celia and Mistress Ciceley go but seldom abroad, and when seen they smile but little, but seem sad and downcast. The usurper has but small dealing with any of the gentry. There are always men staying there, fellows of a kind with whom no gentleman would consort, and they say there is much drinking and wild going on. As Captain Charles specially bade me, I have done all that I could to gather news of Nicholson. Till of late I have heard nothing of him. He disappeared altogether from these parts, just after your honour went away. News once came here from one who knew him, and who had gone up to London on a visit to a kinsman, that he had met him there, dressed up in a garb in no way according with his former position, but ruffling it at a tavern frequented by loose blades, spending his money freely, and drinking and dicing with the best of them.

"A week since he was seen down here, in a very sorry state, looking as if luck had gone altogether against him. Benjamin Haddock, who lives, as you know, close to the gate of Lynnwood, told me that he saw one pass along the road, just as it was dusk, whom he could swear was that varlet Nicholson. He went to the door and looked after him to make sure, and saw him enter the gate. Next day Nicholson was in Lancaster. He was spending money freely there, and rode off on a good horse, which looked ill assorted with his garments, though he purchased some of better fashion in the town. It seemed to me likely that he must have got money from the usurper. I do not know whether your honour will deem this news of importance, but I thought it well to write to you at once. Any further news I may gather, I will send without fail.

"Your humble servant,

"John Banks."

"There is no doubt that this is of importance," Charlie said, when he had read the letter through. "It is only by getting hold of this villain that there is any chance of our obtaining proof of the foul treachery of which you were the victim. Hitherto, we have had no clue whatever as to where he was to be looked for. Now, there can be little doubt that he has returned to his haunts in London. I understand now, father, why you wanted me to get leave. You mean that I shall undertake this business."

"That was my thought, Charlie. You are now well-nigh twenty, and would scarce be recognized as the boy who left four years ago. The fellow would know me at once, and I might be laid by the heels again under the old warrant; besides being charged with breaking away from the custody of the soldiers. Besides, in this business youth and strength and vigour are requisite. I would gladly take the matter in my own hands, but methinks you would have a better chance of bringing it to a favourable issue. Now that Anne is on the throne, she and her advisers will look leniently upon the men whose only fault was devotion to her father; and if we can once get this foul charge of assassination lifted from our shoulders, I and Jervoise and the others who had to fly at the same time, may all be permitted to return, and obtain a reversal of the decree of the Act of Confiscation of our estates.

"I have no friends at court, but I know that Jervoise was a close acquaintance, years ago, of John Churchill, who is now Duke of Marlborough, and they say high in favour with Anne. I did not think of it when I wrote to you, but a week later it came to my mind that his intervention might be very useful, and I took advantage of an officer, leaving here for the army, to send by him a letter to Jervoise, telling him that there was now some hope of getting at the traitor who served as John Dormay's instrument in his plot against us. I said that I had sent for you, and thought it probable you would take the matter in hand; and I prayed him to send me a letter of introduction for you to the duke, so that, if you could by any means obtain the proof of our innocence of this pretended plot, he might help you to obtain a reversal of the Act of Confiscation against us all. I have asked him to write at once, and I will send the letter after you, as soon as I get it.

"I know nothing of London, but I have heard of the Bull's Head, in Fenchurch Street, as being one frequented by travellers from the country. You had best put up there, and thither I will forward the note from Jervoise."

"The letter will be a useful one, indeed, father, when I have once wrung the truth from that villain Nicholson. It will be an expedition after my own heart. There is first the chance of punishing the villain, and then the hope of restoring you to your place at dear old Lynnwood."

"You must be careful, Charlie. Remember it would never do to kill the rascal. That would be the greatest of misfortunes; for, with his death, any chance of unmasking the greater villain would disappear."

"I will be careful, father. I cannot say how I shall set about the matter, yet. That must depend upon circumstances; but, as you say, above all things I must be careful of the fellow's life. When is there a ship sailing, father?"

"The day after tomorrow, Charlie. You will want that time for getting clothes, suitable to a young gentleman of moderate condition, up from the country on a visit to London. You must make up your mind that it will be a long search before you light on the fellow, for we have no clue as to the tavern he frequents. As a roistering young squire, wanting to see London life, you could go into taverns frequented by doubtful characters, for it is probably in such a place that you will find him.

"However, all this I must leave to you. You showed yourself, in that Polish business, well able to help yourself out of a scrape, and if you could do that among people of whose tongues you were ignorant, you ought to be able to manage on English soil."

"At any rate, I will do my best, father, of that you may be sure. I have the advantage of knowing the fellow, and am pretty certain that he will not know me."

"Not he, Charlie," his father said confidently. "Even in the last two years, since you were here with Jervoise and the others, you have changed so much that I, myself, might have passed you in the street without knowing you.

"Now, you had better go off and see about your things. There is no time to be lost. I have drawn out a hundred guineas of my money, which will, I should say, serve you while you are away; but don't stint it, lad. Let me know if it runs short, and I will send you more."

"I have money, too, father. I have four months' pay due, besides money I have in hand, for there was but little need for us to put our hands in our pockets."

Ten days later, Charlie arrived in the Port of London, and took up his abode at the