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diff --git a/old/64615-0.txt b/old/64615-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 96c71a2..0000000 --- a/old/64615-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1721 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Honor Bright, by Mary Catherine Rowsell - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Honor Bright - A Story of the Days of King Charles - -Author: Mary Catherine Rowsell - -Release Date: February 23, 2021 [eBook #64615] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Susan Skinner and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONOR BRIGHT *** - - -[Illustration: “With his dark locks and swarthy cheeks smudged with -dirt, the good folks took him for some gipsy boy.”] - - - - -HONOR BRIGHT - -A STORY OF THE DAYS OF KING CHARLES - - -BY - -MARY C. ROWSELL - - -WITH TWENTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS - - -PHILADELPHIA -HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY - -[Illustration] - - -Copyright, 1900, by HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY. - - - - -[Illustration: HONOR BRIGHT - -BY - -MARY C. ROWSELL] - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE CEDAR ROOM - - -One fine autumn morning a long time ago, a little boy lay stretched in -the broad seat of a latticed window, gazing earnestly with his great -dark eyes on the scene before him. The window was the only one in the -room, which was situated high up in a sort of tower at the corner of a -big old house. - -The beautiful garden surrounding the house was laid out in long -terrace walks, with wide stone steps and balustrades, and planted with -smooth-shaven yew-hedges as thick and almost as sturdy as walls, and -the flower-beds carpeting the ground were ablaze with glorious colors -in the shadowless sunshine, for the great bell in its wooden cote -above the square red-brick gate-house was ringing out midday. Bounding -the garden on every side were lofty walls, covered with the spreading -branches of plum and pear and apple trees, and the rich fruit gleamed -red and tawny and purple, bright as gems among the green leaves. Away -beyond the garden, far as eye could reach, stretched wood and dale and -fair green meadows, where the sheep cropped at the sweet turf and the -cows grazed, whisking away the tiresome flies with their great tails -as they moved slowly along. Here and there among the leafy hedgerows -and coppices, the little boy, whose Christian name was Charles, could -see from his lofty watch-place the gleaming of a stream which wound -like a silver ribbon on and on, nearer and nearer, till it reached -the little wood covering the wide, sloping banks which shut in the -road leading past the house. There for some distance it was almost -completely lost in the ferny brushwood, peeping out again at last in a -rush-grown pool. Thence hurrying onward, it wound right round the walls -of the house, so that to reach the great nail-studded main door you had -to cross a little one-arched stone bridge. - -Faster and faster, as he gazed upon this fair scene, the tears brimmed -up into the little lad’s eyes, until they rolled down his cheeks—cheeks -not very rosy or chubby, like those of most boys and girls of eight -or nine years old, which was the age of this boy, but of a clear, -naturally healthful brown, although just now they looked a little wan. -His hair was also dark, and fell in thick curly locks upon the broad -collar of Flemish lace covering his shoulders to the top of the sleeves -of his dark-green velvet surcoat. His face was rather handsome, and, -although there was an expression of self-will about his lips, it was -mingled with great good-humor, as if he had a kind, generous nature, -and might look merry enough when there was anything to be merry about. - -That, however, he at present considered as being very far from the -case; and at last his silent weeping broke out into loud sobs, which -grew only the louder the more he strove to stifle them. They could be -heard such a long way off that they reached the ears of Lady Chauncy, -the mistress of the house, who was sitting at her needlework in her -private room on the floor below. She rose with a little impatient frown -at being thus disturbed, and taking from a side-table a small gilt -cage, which contained a fine blackbird or merle, as blackbirds were -then called, and carrying it with her, went up the stairs to the room -where the boy was. - -First removing a stout wooden bar from across the door, she lifted a -bunch of big keys, hanging from her girdle, and, selecting one of the -keys, put it in the lock of the door, turned it, and entered the room. - -“What is the matter?” she said, as she carefully locked the door behind -her, and advanced a few steps into the room. She was an oldish lady, -with a yellowish wrinkled face framed tightly in with a cap of fine -linen in such a fashion that, if she had any hair, none of it was to -be seen. Her eyes were light green-gray, and gleamed sternly, but not -unkindly, under their thick grizzled brows upon the boy, as at sight -of her he slid down from his corner, and went and sat in a large -high-backed armchair. He brushed away the tears from his eyes, but he -made no answer, and the lady had to repeat her question. - -“What are you crying about? Are you ill?” she went on. “Have you a -headache, or a toothache—or any ache?” - -“No, madam, not the merest finger-ache,” replied the little lad, with -almost a smile. “There is nothing—nothing at all amiss with me,” and -then, in spite of his grand words, a last lingering sob broke up his -speech. “I am only—only——” - -“Only hungry—is that it?” she said, with a relieved look. “Well, eating -is the best cure for that, and your favorite dinner will be here -directly——roast beef; so dry your eyes.” - -The boy’s face did not, however, grow much brighter, and Lady Chauncy -began to knit her stern brow again. “Come, come, your Highness is -hard to please to-day,” she went on; “what is amiss with you to -be so naughty and discontented? Pray what can you lack? Where are -your draughts, and your beautiful new horn-book, and your brave new -troop-horse which his Majesty brought all the way from Cheapside in -his own coach for you? You ought to be happy as the day is long, with -everything dainty and to your taste to eat, and a soft bed, and the -blue sky and the fair scene to look at from this casement. What, tears -again?” for at these last words of Lady Chauncy’s the boy’s breath -quivered very much as if the sobs were going to burst out afresh. -“Nay,” she went on, “I’ll warrant they will dry up fast enough when -you see what I have here for you,” and, pulling off the cover of the -gilt cage, she placed it on the table. “William the gardener caught -this pretty bird to-day, and I have put it in this fine cage and bring -it you for a present. What do you say?” - -The boy did not reply. He only looked hard at the captive bird, and -still the tears seemed swelling in his throat. “It is a brave bird,” he -said softly at last. - -“Well, I am glad you are pleased with it,” said Lady Chauncy, “but I -must be going now—and hark,” for at this moment there came a loud tap -at the door, “there is Wynkin come with your dinner,” and she turned -and unlocked the door for a serving-man who entered with a silver tray -laden with plates and dishes, and, entrusting him with the key of the -door, she went out, closing it carefully behind her. - -Meanwhile the servant spread the snowy damask cloth on the carved oak -table and arranged the dishes, and having helped the boy from the joint -of roast beef, and poured out a goblet full of clear golden cider from -a silver flagon, he took up a place behind Charles’s tall-backed chair, -looking in a concerned, half-scared sort of manner at the boy when, -after a few mouthfuls, he pushed aside the plate. - -“Take it away,” he said. - -“But your Highness has hardly eaten anything,” said Wynkin. - -“No,” said Charles, “I can’t eat any more in this stifling cupboard of -a place. Could you now, Wynkin?” - -Wynkin grinned. “I think I could,” he said, “if——” - -“If what?” - -“Well, if it was roast beef.” - -“Don’t you have roast beef for dinner of a day?” - -“Only on Sundays, your Highness. Week-days we have mostly porridge -for dinner, or, for a treat now and again, a sop in the pan of -barley-bread.” - -“And what do you have for pudding?” inquired the Prince, as Wynkin -removed the thrust-aside plate and placed a dish of quince tarts on -the table all heaped up with whisked cream stuck over with sugar-plums; -“sweets, you know.” - -[Illustration: “At the sight of her he slid down from his corner and -went and sat in a large high arm-chair.”] - -“Oh, we don’t have them at all, except at Christmas, which comes but -once a year, worse luck. A little sour buttermilk sometimes perhaps, -but sweet things, bless your heart, no.” - -“Oh, yes, you do,” said Charles, with a merry twinkle in his eye; “you -have the sweetest thing of all—liberty.” - -“Why, yes, that is true,” admitted Wynkin, gazing down sorrowfully at -the boy. - -“And I wish I were you, Wynkin,” went on Charles, all the clouds -darkening his face again. “It’s dreadful to be a King’s son, I can -tell you; and treated as if I’d done something wrong, and I haven’t—I -haven’t.” - -“No, of course not,” said Wynkin, in consoling tones. “It isn’t -possible, for the King can do no wrong, I’ve always heard say. Every -idiot knows that, and it isn’t likely his son can, particularly his -eldest son, the Prince of Wales, like you are.” - -“I never thought of that,” said Charles, with a meditative air, as he -lifted all the whipped cream with his spoon from his tart and swallowed -it at a gulp. “I may do whatever I please and it won’t be wrong. But -there, that’s just it—I can’t do what I please. How can I? I want to -run and jump and bathe out in that splendid pool there, and climb up -those great tall fellows of trees and—and—do all the things other boys -do—for I’m not a baby now—I’m turned nine—and it’s a shame, keeping -me cooped up in this mousetrap of a room. Oh, you know it is, Wynkin, -and you might say so, if you had a kind heart, but you haven’t—you are -hard-hearted and cruel, like the lords.” - -“But they have to be cruel to be kind,” contended Wynkin. “The King’s -Majesty, God preserve him, has so many enemies—so many who hate him.” - -“Yes, I know, so ’tis said,” replied the boy, “and ’tis all very well, -Wynkin, but I can’t believe it. My father is so gentle and kind. If -’tis true, ’tis because they don’t know him.” - -“That may be so, your Highness. And ’tis just the business of many -of those who call themselves his Majesty’s friends to hinder him from -being known as—as you know him. And you see, there are bad men about of -all sorts and sizes and parties, who want to get you away from him.” - -[Illustration] - -“I’d be torn in pieces first,” said the child, his dark face flushing. - -“Yes,” said Wynkin, “that’s about what it would be. I’m not certain but -I think now there’s a price set upon your head.” - -“What’s the good of it to anybody?” laughed Charles. - -“Oh, well, there mayn’t, of course, be anything in it?” - -“Inside my head?” laughed Charles still more merrily. - -“In the talk, your Highness.” - -“That is as it may be,” said Charles, “but there is more than one idea -inside my head, and the biggest is that I’m not afraid of these evil -persons; and the next is that if I can only get out of this badger-hole -of a room, I’ll let them know I’m not—and I’ll protect my father -from—where is my father just now, Wynkin?” - -“He was in London a few days since.” - -“Is mother with him?” - -“Nay, I think she has gone to France, to fetch soldiers to come over -and fight for the royal cause.” - -“Oh, that is all right, and when they come—now, Wynkin, look here—I -intend to go to my father and fight by his side. Oh, I tell you I -can—see,” and, seizing his little wooden toy sword, he tipped his left -fingers over his head and thrust out the weapon with such a valiant air -that Wynkin laughed heartily and said he had never seen a finer copper -captain. - -“Nay, copper captain forsooth,” said Charles, flinging away the sword, -and seizing the long white stick which Wynkin carried as his staff -of office when waiting on the Prince. “I’ll show you I’m no copper -captain,” and he began to lunge about with it so lustily that at last -he gave Wynkin a sharp poke in the eye. “Oh, dear,” cried the boy, -throwing down the stick; and, springing into the serving-man’s arms, -he clung round his neck and stroked his damaged eye. “I’m so sorry, -Wynkin. It doesn’t hurt much, does it—though it is going all red and -black?” - -“Nothing to talk about,” said Wynkin, “but you can cut and thrust with -the best of ’em. Feeling’s believing.” - -“Yes,” said Charles proudly. - -“A regular don at it you are,” went on Wynkin, as he began to pile the -dinner things together for taking away, “but I must be going now.” - -“Oh, don’t go,” pleaded the lonely boy. - -“Needs must. I’ve got to be going up-stream with some corn sacks, and -the last harvest load’s being carried to-day, and all hands are turned -on.” - -“Except mine,” sighed the Prince, gazing down sadly at his little -slender white hands. “It’s hateful. Now, Wynkin,” he went on, turning -suddenly with a commanding air upon the serving-man, “listen to me. -Give me that key immediately,” and he pointed to the key which Lady -Chauncy had entrusted to Wynkin, and which the man had thrust into the -breast of his jerkin in such a manner that the handle peeped out. “I -want it.” - -“Oh, do you?” said Wynkin, most respectfully. - -“Yes, and you must give it me immediately.” - -“Faith, not I, your Highness. You’ll be trying to unlock the door with -it the next thing,” grinned Wynkin. - -“Certainly,” replied Charles majestically. “That is the purpose for -which I require it.” - -Wynkin’s broad smile grew broader than ever. “What next, I should like -to know,” said he. - -“That is a matter that does not concern you,” replied the Prince; “your -manner is very disloyal. If you must know, I want to get out.” - -“Which is precisely what his Majesty has forbidden my lord and my lady -to allow you to do,” rejoined Wynkin, “and they have given him their -word of honor and solemn promise that you shall not get out, and it’s -because I have always been trusted by my lord and my lady to abide by -my word, and have never broken faith to them, that they allow me to -wait upon your Highness,” and Wynkin took a long breath, for he was -not used to making such lengthy speeches. “Honor bright, you know,” -concluded he. - -The young Prince made no reply. For a long time he stood looking Wynkin -full in the face with thoughtful-looking eyes, and Wynkin returned -the gaze, but whether his damaged eye hurt him, or somehow a tearful -choking kind of feeling in his throat troubled him, it is certain that -he turned away, and hurriedly gathering the dinner things together on -his tray, he went out, carefully locking and barring up the door behind -him. - -[Illustration] - - - - -CHAPTER II - -MINERVA’S NOSE - - -Charles stood listening to Wynkin’s departing footsteps down the oaken -staircase till the last echo of them died out. Even then perhaps he -would not have stirred, had it not been for the merle, who suddenly -piped a plaintive note or two in his cage, which Wynkin had hung upon a -handy nail near the window. - -“Ah,” cried Charles, turning quickly to the bird, “I forgot all about -you.” - -The merle looked at him with his bright eyes, in which there seemed to -the boy to be a sorrowful pleading expression. - -“What is the matter, birdie, old fellow?” said Charles. “Are you -hungry? No; they would never have neglected to give you seed and water, -I am sure.” - -And there, as he looked to ascertain, he found not only seed and water -to the very brim of the pannikins, but also, stuck between the bars, a -big piece of watercress, while at the bottom of the cage was a large -worm wriggling about. Nothing, in fact, was wanting to the convenience -and content of the tenant of the cage—in the way, that is, of creature -comforts—but his wings drooped forlornly, and he looked very unhappy, -nevertheless. - -“Ah,” said the Prince, as he clambered on to the high window-seat, and -took down the cage, “I like you very much, you dear little fellow; and -I should like to keep you, for I am very lonely, and you are most sweet -company, and it is a very fine cage, isn’t it? But you are breaking -your merry heart in it, I am positive you are, and you shall get out. -Her ladyship may not approve; she may even whip me for it, though I -believe she mustn’t do that, much as her fingers often itch for it, but -I’m going to let you go,” and so saying, he unfastened the door of the -cage, and set the entrance against the open lattice. “There, go,” he -went on, as for an instant the bird perked his shiny head on one side, -as if he was listening intently to all Charles was saying to him, “fly -away, dear bird, and joy go with you, for outside you will find it -again.” - -And then with a flap of his wings, away flew the merle, straight across -the moat into mid-air, till he reached the bough of a high elm not far -off. There he settled, and opening his yellow beak, he set up such a -joyous song as never was heard—anyway, inside a cage. - -“I expect,” said Charles, looking into the cage again, and poking the -watercress stalk under the body of the worm, “that you would rather -wriggle down there among the flowers than in that miserable sprinkling -of sand,” and with that he flung the worm far across the moat on to -the grassy bank below. “Of course, if Master Merle catches you again, -you must settle the matter between you, and it is certain he will be -picking up an appetite again now, and it will be ‘catch as catch can.’” - -Then, putting the toe of his little silver-and-blue rosetted shoes to -the cage, he sent it flying to the other side of the room. That done, -he dropped wearily down again in the great tall velvet chair, and -lolled back, a very picture of misery and discontent. - -“Who’d imagine,” he muttered to himself, “that it was such a horrid -thing to be a Prince? I wonder if all Princes are so wretched, or -whether it is only Princes of Wales, like me?” Then he yawned and lay -with his eyes wandering listlessly round the room, watching the rays -of the afternoon sun as they poured in at the lattice. The air felt -stifling, for it was a small room, considering, that is, that the house -was such a large one; but great mansions in those golden days, when -Charles the First was King, contained rooms of all sizes as well as all -shapes. Rooms were not merely four square walls, as mostly they are -now, but built as it might be into all sorts of passages and corridors -and staircase landings, now with a step or two up, now with a step or -two down. One reason for this was that, as time went on, the owners -of these big houses would add on a piece here, a wing there, and the -level of the old floors and the new floors would not always exactly lie -together, but it made the houses much more amusing and snug to live in. - -Such a queer hole-and-corner chamber was the old Cedar Room, as it was -called, in which little Charles Stuart, King Charles the First’s eldest -son, had been shut up for three weeks past. The King himself, with his -Court, had been in London, but the Roundheads, who were the King’s -discontented subjects, and the Royalists, who were faithful to him, -were glowing into a red heat of rage with each other. It was no longer -safe for the little boy to be in London, and so the King had entrusted -him to the care of one of his most devoted friends and counselors, who -took him away at dead of night from London to his home in Warwickshire, -and nobody—not even the other Royalists—was certain where the child -was. Many thought that he had been carried across the sea to France. It -was not of much use telling the boy that he had been taken away from -his father and mother for his good. The poor little lad was not old -enough to understand how this could be, and so he was very unhappy, -and he detested with all his might that old Cedar Room, and all that -was in it, though it was considered a vastly fine room, and a very -curious one. That, indeed, was one reason why Lady Chauncy, who, for -all her prim manner, was a most kind, motherly person, had persuaded -her husband to lodge the young Prince in it, “for besides being so -high up and remote,” said she, “the mannikins will be huge and endless -amusement for him, and make the time pass more quickly till there is -an end to all this pother, and the child can get about again.” - -[Illustration: “When that sun-ray tips it with red, I’ll see if I can’t -hit it. I’ve hit a better mark before now.”] - -Now, the mannikins, as her ladyship called them, were the little -figures carved on the panels of the walls all around the Cedar Room, -which was of a rather lop-sided shape, neither square nor oblong, but -a little of all three fitted into the uppermost part of an angle of -the mansion which jutted far over the moat. These panels were very -old, at least two hundred years, and the room was as ancient, but -its walls were as stout and sturdy as on the day they were made. The -panels were of Flemish carving, and they represented the gods and -goddesses of heathen mythology. There was Jupiter hurling lightning -from his throne, Juno with her peacocks, Vulcan hammering away on his -anvil, and Minerva sitting up very majestically in her helmet and coat -of mail, holding her shield. The faces, however, of these far-famed -personages were far from being like what Charles had always imagined of -them when his father had related tales about them to him, as often he -had done. According to this description of them, which sometimes the -King would read out loud to him from the poetry-history of Homer, they -were beautiful, even glorious, to look upon, but these mannikins were -as ugly and clumsy almost as if they were made of gilt gingerbread. -They were pretty well as broad as they were long, dressed in jerkins, -or muffled in cloaks and full skirts, and their faces were almost all -nose, that is to say, where they had any at all, for many of the noses -had stuck out so far that they had got chipped off or worn flat. Why -the carver of all these gentry had made such a point of their noses -puzzled Charles, who for the first few days of his living in the Cedar -Room was certainly immensely amused with this silent, droll company; -but after a while he got cross with their dull faces. - -“If they were real,” he said one day to Wynkin, “what blockheads they -would be!” - -“And blockheads they are now,” had been Wynkin’s reply. - -And if there was one of the wooden folk Charles found more irritating -than another, it was Madam Minerva. She sat up so prim and -cross-looking and her nose poking out from under her helmet, bigger -even than that of great Jove himself; or so it seemed to Charles, as -he lay listlessly watching the afternoon sun-rays pouring in at the -lattice, and listening half glad, half sad to the piping of the happy -merle in the elm-tree, and the voices of the harvesters far down below -in the fields. - -How he longed to be with them and watch the loading of those last -sheaves into the big carts, and how stiflingly hot the Cedar Room was, -and how particularly forbidding and disagreeable goddess Minerva there -looked, and how uncomfortable and heavy must be that scale armor of -hers, and that shield, and the helmet, not to speak of such a nose. Ah! -And, stretching out his hand over the arm of the chair, Charles picked -up his toy bow, which lay with his own gilt pasteboard cuirass and -tin helmet and wooden broadsword and other weapons on the floor, and -setting the bow with a bolt, he sat waiting. “Yes,” he murmured, with a -wag of his head, and setting his lips tight, “I won’t put up with her -any longer, her and her nose. And when that sun-ray tips it with red, -as in a minute or two it will, I—I’ll see if I can’t hit it. I’ve hit -a better mark before now.” Then he waited and watched, and the crimson -gleams crept on and on across the carved panels, and—whizz! went the -string, snapping right back across Charles’s own nose so sharply that -it stung him and he shut his eyes for a minute. When he opened them he -beheld a strange and most unexpected sight. - -[Illustration] - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE DARK PASSAGE - - -The panel was turning round! slowly, but most surely turning round, -much in the way that a turnstile moves, as if on a pivot or pin running -from top to bottom of the wood. - -Charles could hardly believe his eyes, which, indeed, after that -stinger from the bowstring, were for a minute or two not so trustworthy -as usual. He very soon, however, saw clearly enough that the panel -really was open, and now stood half-way inside the room, half-way -outside in the shadowy space beyond. - -So amazed was he that for a short time he could not stir hand or foot, -and only stood staring at the panel. But if he had never seen such a -thing before, it was no great marvel, for not many people had done so. -He had not only heard of, but seen, panels that lifted above into the -walls, window-sash fashion, and panels that slid back sideways into -grooves, and in the hope that such panels might be found in that room, -he had spent hours in pushing and shoving and poking about the edges -and frameworks of the carvings till his little fingers ached again. -Then a hundred times he had cried, “Open, Sesame!” as Ali Baba did, but -nothing had come of it. Yet now, here, in the most unexpected manner it -had happened, and accordingly, like people in general, big or little, -when on those rare occasions that which their heart most longs for -comes to pass, he stood as if he was dazed and unable to believe it -true. He soon, however, found his wits again, and slipping down from -the chair, he crossed the floor and peeped into the dark space, though -gingerly enough, lest the panel should think proper to snap to, and -treat his nose as badly as he had treated poor Minerva’s. - -Then he carefully examined the condition of that good lady, and found -her to be not at all herself as he had hitherto had the pleasure of -her acquaintance. To be sure she sat bolt upright as ever, as far as -her shoulders, but her head hung down now all dingle-dangle. Was her -neck broken? No; it was not as bad as that, it was dislocated, and hung -wobbling by a sort of metal hinge to which there seemed some wires and -a steel spring attached. - -[Illustration] - -Well, certainly, thought Charles, as he looked, those Flemish craftsmen -must have been very clever fellows. He did not however stop to think -much about anything, for the belfry over his head began to sound with -a terrific clangor as he stood in the opening. Five o’clock, and at -five his supper was always brought him, and after that he had to -go to bed. There was not a moment to lose, and, after a very brief -consideration he stepped back into the room, and took off his doublet, -putting it in a corner of the window-seat. Being such sultry weather -all he wore under the doublet was the little shirt of fine cambric; -then—but hark! voices! Why, bless your heart, yes, the merle’s voice, -and the harvesters all rejoicing in the soft cool air which the waning -day had brought. Quite a little breeze, in fact, as it came rustling -and ruffling up from below to where Charles stood in the queer dark -nook outside the panel; but his eyes were growing accustomed to the -darkness now, and he could see that he was standing on the top of a -staircase which wound down and down out of sight. There was one thing -he had forgotten, in all his excitement, and a thing of the utmost -importance too. His sword. He would not encumber himself with his armor -or other weapons, but as a soldier and a gentleman his short sword he -must have; and he went back again and, picking it up from the floor, he -stuck it into his belt, for he needed both hands free. Then slipping -out once more upon the shelf of a landing, for it was no more, he drew -the panel to. Had he been able to see then on its other side, he would -have seen Minerva’s helmeted head pop up and settle itself all right -and tight on her shoulders, as if nothing had happened, but by that -time he was at the bottom of the staircase. It did not reach beyond a -turn or two, and ended in a long always-downward-winding passage barely -three feet wide and hardly higher. - -Through this scudded Charles as well as he could, like a rabbit in -a burrow, always down and down, and twisting and turning, guided by -the glimmering of daylight which entered by little holes pierced at -few-and-far-between distances in the thick stone wall on his left hand. -Still on and on he went the downward way, till at last the air began to -turn from cool to clammy, damp, and cold, and he stood still to listen, -for there came a sound through the deadly silence. It was the trickling -of water, and he guessed he must be close upon the moat. - -The next moment he found his right hand was touching cold moss-covered -stone instead of dry wood as hitherto. His heart fluttered like the -wings of a bird, but he stepped on, feeling every inch of the way. In -this manner he descended several stone steps that were slippery with -ooze and felt jagged and crumbling under his feet. At the bottom of -the steps he found himself standing on smooth and level ground, and, -pausing to take breath, he listened again. The water was over his head, -he could hear it gurgling slowly and solemnly on, and all round him was -pitchy darkness, but far on straight ahead he saw, or fancied he saw, a -gleam of reddish light. - -[Illustration] - -Plucking heart of grace, he moved on again, and soon the fancy became -a certainty. It was the light of the sun now nearing the end of his -course, and it was piercing the bars of a grating. From fluttering, -Charles’s heart now stood still, for a great dismay seized him. What if -that grating closed in the passage? Why, then, since he had noticed -that there was no handle or mark of any kind at the back of the panel -in the Cedar Room, he would not be able to open it, even if he dared to -go back, and so he would be caught like a rat in a trap! It wanted some -courage to go on and make certain, and only after a second or two he -found it, and, groping his way on, reached the grating, to find that -it was as he had thought so possible. The grating was just high and -wide enough to allow of a person getting out of it. It stood on the top -of a steep narrow flight of stone steps, and as Charles mounted these, -the afternoon sunlight broke upon it from the outside, and he saw that -it was chained and padlocked; but as he took hold of the padlock, it -fell to pieces in his hand, all eaten through and through with rust. -Then he saw that the links of the chain were equally useless, and as -he gave the grating a push they all rattled and fell helplessly to the -ground. - -For a moment more the gate stuck hard, but with another tremendous push -of Charles’s shoulder, it yielded with a screech, and swung back as far -as a heap of mud and rotten leaves allowed it to go, and this was far -enough to allow of Charles’s slender little body squeezing through. - -When he got outside, he found himself—where? Ah! that was the puzzle of -it. That he was beyond the moat of course he knew, but was he beyond -the garden walls? If he was not—but he was, a good way beyond, right -out in the fields; for though he was cooped up in a round sort of a -bricked-in place like a well, and could see nothing but a close tangle -of gorse and bramble overhead, he could hear the voices of the country -folk, the neighing of horses, and the creaking of wagon-wheels hard by. -And all at once as he listened the voices broke out in a loud cheery -chorus. “Harvest Home,” sang the men, women, and children, while dogs -barked, and the birds sang louder than ever:— - - “Harvest Home!” - Merrily sing we all, “Harvest Home!” - -And Charles knew that he was free. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A NIGHT JOURNEY - - -As the wagon-wheels creaked nearer and nearer, and the singing of the -merry-makers came past him, Charles had all the work in the world to -keep himself from leaping up out of the hole to join them, they seemed -so happy. He himself did not feel anything like so happy as he had -expected. He could not have laughed in that light-hearted way as the -children did, chasing each other in and out of the gorse-bushes so near -the edge of the hole that he could have caught them by the ankles as -they ran. - -At last all had passed by, and the only sound to be heard was the -distant rumbling of the heavy-laden wagon-wheels down the hilly lane, -or could it be the roll of distant thunder? for as he peeped over the -edges of the hole he saw that the sun was setting in a bank of nearly -black clouds. When he thought, that he was quite safe from being seen -he scrambled up to the top of the hole, and a strange sight he looked, -for his velvet breeches and his shirt and his face and hands were -all one grimy drab color with the cobwebby dust and dirt he had gone -through. Really, if anybody had spied him, there would have been no -small difficulty in recognizing the little Prince who always went so -richly and tastefully attired. No one, however, saw him as, taking one -sharp look round, he sped like a lapwing with bent head through the -thick tall furze-bushes covering the waste ground to the edges of the -thicket beyond. At the other side of the thicket ran the bright stream -whose course he intended to follow, as he knew that some miles ahead it -joined the river Thames. - -There, at the bottom of the broad steep-sloping bank he soon reached, -lay a largish boat tied by a rope to the stem of an elm-tree. -Charles’s heart leapt within him: that was just the thing he wanted. -Surely some kind woodland fairy must have placed it there, as fairies -do in story-books, for his convenience. The next minute his delight -faded out: another glance showed that the craft was loaded rather -heavily for its size with some wicker-baskets and a small cask and a -sack which peeped out from beneath a big canvas covering, and of course -to get in and row off, with all that cargo aboard, would make him like -a thief, so the plan was impossible. While he was cogitating on this -most difficult question he heard voices, and voices that he knew well, -too. No less than those of Lady Chauncy and Wynkin, who seemed to be -coming through the trees. Charles turned all gooseflesh with dismay. -To make a run for it would, likely as not, land him right into her -ladyship’s stiff brocade skirts. There was not a minute to think, and -so he ran the other way down the bank faster than a rabbit, and hey -presto! with one leap he was at the bottom of the boat, and, creeping -under the canvas among the sacks. - -Feeling as if his heart was really in his mouth, he listened to what -the lady and her serving-man were saying, and her ladyship, who spoke -first, seemed in one of her pleasantest humors. - -“And so you are off, Wynkin,” said she; “well, the sooner the better -perchance, for I believe there will be a storm before morning, and you -have a long way to go, and your good father and mother are, I doubt -not, wearying to give you a welcome. You must tell them that when -his Highness hath been delivered safe back to his Majesty out of our -charge, you will tarry with them a longer time. But now I shall look -for you at midday to-morrow. Meantime I shall wait upon the Prince -entirely myself, since my husband desires it. And so a good journey to -you, and make my remembrances to your parents, and I trust they will -have good enjoyment of the gallimaufries and the what-nots I beg their -acceptance of, and that your mother will find the red cloak warm and a -good fit. Is all well and securely packed in the boat, Wynkin?” - -“Yes, madam,” replied Wynkin, making a low bow to his mistress, though, -of course, Charles was only able to imagine that. “I have placed the -cloak and the fresh butter, and the new-laid eggs, and the manchets, -all in their baskets between the sacks,” and, stepping into the punt, -he loosed the rope from the tree, struck out into midstream, and away -glided the punt to the music of the river ripples. - -[Illustration: “And so you are off, Wynkin; well, the sooner the better -perchance, for I believe there will be a storm before morning.”] - -If Wynkin had only known what he was carrying away from the Manor House -along with his sacks and what-nots, as my lady called them, he might -have whistled other sort of tunes than the jolly ones he indulged in -as he punted on, on, till twilight darkened into night, and Charles, -cooped up between the sacks, could no longer discern hedges from -banks through the peephole he could keep open for himself only with -difficulty. - -All of a sudden, just as he heard the distant church clocks striking -eight, a brilliant flash of lightning covered all he could see, -followed by a crash of thunder, and then down upon the canvas covering -pattered rain-drops as heavily as if they were crown pieces. For a -short time the hurly-burly was so terrific that he almost, if not -quite, wished himself back in the Cedar Room. - -Just as the hurricane began to calm a little, Wynkin punted towards the -bank, which was now fringed by a row of pollard willows, and he shouted -to a man who was standing under them, “Is it you, Dickon lad?” - -“Ay,” answered the man, as he lent a hand to the punt, while Wynkin -jumped out of it. “A nice storm you be come in, brother Wynkin.” - -“Yes,” laughed Wynkin, “but ’tis giving over a bit now. Have you got -the cart?” - -“Nay,” said Dickon; “old Dobbin’s so mortal afeard o’ lightning that I -wouldn’t bring him out, and I’ve trundled down the garden wheel-barrer -mysen, just to load with any small odds and ends you may have with you, -and in the mornin’ we can come down and fetch the sacks, eh?” - -“Right,” said Wynkin, “and here you are—catch,” and, stretching his arm -under the canvas without removing it, he drew out the neatly packed -baskets of good things which Lady Chauncy had sent as presents to his -parents. “Now then, help me to tow the punt up alongside under the -trees, and then we’ll be starting, for I’m as wet through as a fish.” - -Then in a few minutes they had the punt safely tied up to the -willow-stems, and away they went chatting cheerily as they trundled -the barrow over the bank into the wet road beyond. For the first time -Charles ventured to stir, creeping out from among the sacks as quickly -as his cramped limbs permitted, into the body of the punt. He was -chilled to the bone, and very hungry, and thought longingly of that -roast beef he had despised so much some hours before, and he almost -wished he had not left his doublet behind him. Fortunately, however, in -groping along, he tumbled right down over something soft. It turned out -to be the crimson frieze cloak, which in the darkness and in the hurry -must have dropped out of the basket. How beautifully soft and warm and -dry it felt! And with a cry of delight, Charles wrapped himself round -in it from his head to his little ice-cold feet, and then, as luck -would have it, out fell a manchet of the white bread, which must have -caught in among the folds of the cloak, and without more ado Charles -took a deep bite into it as he sat down in the bottom of the punt, -huddled up warmly in the cloak. “And then I must be on the march,” -he said to himself, cheered a little by the warmth and the food, but -before he had swallowed three mouthfuls, his eyelids drooped heavily, -his weary limbs slackened, and he was fast asleep. - -[Illustration] - -When he awoke, dawn was just breaking fair and rosy over the distant -hills. He sprang to his feet in affright, quite unconscious for the -moment where he was, but his wits soon came back to him, and he looked -cautiously round across the still, shadowy, low-lying banks. He could -now see that beyond the trees stretched a gorse-covered common, and -between, alongside the stream, wound a road. - -[Illustration] - -Drawing off the cloak, he placed it back under the canvas, though -rather reluctantly, for the air was chilly. Then, having made short -work of the morsel of the white bread he found in his fingers when he -first opened his eyes, he mounted to the edge of the punt and sprang -to the bank. Reaching the road, he walked on a little way, looking -cautiously every step he took, but for a good mile he did not see -a single human creature, though the birds were singing lustily and -the bees and gnats were skimming and skipping in the sunshine, for -the morning was lovely. But before long, however, the field and farm -workers began to be about, and in spite of his best endeavors to dodge -them by dropping in among the hedgerows and the gorse-clumps, he was -forced to face some of them. They took little heed, however, of the -little ragged boy, for ragged enough he was in his down-trodden and -sodden shoes, and his fine white shirt and finest cloth gray breeches -all gone to about the same mud color. With his dark locks and swarthy -cheeks smudged with dirt and the juice of the blackberries he plucked -and ate hungrily as he hastened on, the good folk, if they noticed him -at all, took him for some gipsy boy. But his heart was beginning to -grow as heavy as his limbs, which were so weary that he could hardly -put one bruised and bleeding foot before the other. All his merry -adventure-loving thoughts were fading fast, and in their place rose -up the terrible fear that when he reached London the King, instead of -being rejoiced to see him, might be displeased. It was just possible, -and the more tired he got, the more possible somehow it seemed, till at -last he became terrified, for when his father was angry, his frown made -the hearts of even grown-up great lords quake. All at once he fancied -he heard voices calling, and overwhelmed with terror and fatigue, he -had just strength enough left to hobble away into the wood which now -ran along the roadside, till he seemed quite hidden, and, huddling -together into the hollow of an old oak-tree, he sank down, sobbing -bitterly. - -[Illustration] - - - - -CHAPTER V - -MOLLY - - -“What is the matter, itty boy? Why are you kying so?” - -And while the voice spoke soft and sweet as the coo of a dove, two -little hands very gently, but firmly, clasped Charles’s hands, which -were covering his face, and tried to draw them away. - -He looked up, and, rubbing the blinding tears from his eyes, he beheld -a little girl about six years old. She was a very chubby-cheeked tot -of a thing, with short golden curls running over her head, and half -covering her eyes, that were looking at him with immense curiosity. - -“Are oo a blackamoor?” she asked, shrinking back a step as she saw his -face. - -“No,” said Charles, bursting into a merry laugh, “but I expect I have -rather a dirty face.” - -She nodded. “Blacker than oor hands even. But what was you kying for?” - -“Well,” said Charles, “for one thing I—well, I’m dreadfully hungry. I -believe I could eat a horse.” - -“Do you?” said the child, with a glad light in her eyes as she opened -a tiny satchel hanging on her plump arm, and taking from it a splendid -prancing horse with a king crowned riding on his back, all made of -gilt gingerbread. “I’s so glad—here’s a man on horseback from Banbury -Fair—can you eat him too?” - -[Illustration: “Are oo a blackamoor?” she asked, shrinking back a step -as she saw his face.] - -“Truly yes, and thank you, little maid,” laughed her new friend, -taking the gingerbread from her tiny fingers. “Why, ’tis the King! -Long life to his Majesty!” he added, as he bit the man’s head off, and -seemed to enjoy it heartily. “What is your name, dear?” he went on, -with his mouth full. - -[Illustration] - -“What is oors?” said she, with a roguish twirl of her ripe red lips. - -“Charles.” - -“Ah, mine’s Molly—Molly Speedwell.” - -“And whose little girl are you?” - -“I’m the miller’s daughter of Oakside, and there’s my home,” she went -on, pointing through the trees, and Charles discerned a red-roofed, -white walled cottage standing in a garden. Hard by, upon a high turfy -mound, was a mill, whose sails were whirling fast in the morning -breeze. “And there’s the mill.” - -“Oh,” said Charles, much disconcerted, “well, good-bye, little girl.” - -“Don’t go,” pleaded the child, the tears brimming into her eyes. - -“Needs must—I’ve got to be in London as quickly as I can. I’m going to -see the King—” He stopped short and clapped his hand upon his mouth. - -“Then you may as well save yourself the journey, youngster,” said a -deep, manly voice behind him, with a laugh of amusement. “The King is -hundreds of miles away from London. He started northward three days -ago. And what, forsooth, can you be wanting of the King?” - -Charles turned dumb with confusion to see before him a man white as a -ghost from top to toe with flour. It was the miller, and taking up in -his arms the little girl, who ran to him delightedly, he went on, “What -can a gipsy boy like you be wanting of the King?” - -“I am not a gipsy boy,” began Charles, “that is, I—I——” - -“Always tell the truth,” said the miller. “Have you run away—from your -camp?” he added, when Charles did not answer. “Where is the camp?” - -“That’s just what I don’t know,” said Charles, who was thinking always -of the soldiers’ camp, while the miller had, of course, the gipsies’ -camp in his mind, as he looked at the little ragged boy, whose face -somehow pleased him, in spite of its grimy state. - -“I can’t find it, and—and—” and the tears broke forth afresh, “I don’t -know what to do.” - -And then Molly began to cry bitterly, “Poor itty boy,” she sobbed. -“He’s dot no home, daddy.” - -“H’m,” grunted the miller, “and a lazy loon anyhow he is, I’ll warrant.” - -“No, faith, that I’m not,” contradicted Charles, with a flash of -indignation in his eyes. - -“Would you like to work, if you’d the chance?” said the miller, “at the -mill here, for example?” - -“Try me,” said Charles, looking longingly at the sails as they twirled, -dazzling as silver in the sunshine. Of all things in the world, next to -a colonel, he thought he would like to be a miller, and have to do with -those sails and great, fat sacks. “Only try me.” - -“Very well, I will for a week,” said the miller, “but, mind you, it -isn’t play work. Come along. ’Tis a busy time, and I’ve no objections -to an extra hand, if he’s a good, honest one.” - -Molly clapped her two little hands with delight, and trotted off -indoors to tell her mother all that had happened. And in an hour there -was a marvelous sight, for the blackamoor boy was turned into such a -whitymoor sort of a figure that there was certainly less chance than -ever of anyone recognizing him for the little runaway Prince of Wales. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE RED CLOAK AND THE BLUE ROSETTE - - -Meanwhile there was dire dismay at the Manor House when Lady Chauncy -entered the Cedar Room and found it empty. She could not for a long -time bring herself to believe her own eyes, and when at last she was -compelled to do so, she wrung her hands and behaved almost like a -frenzied creature. Both she and her husband had believed the room to -be the securest place in the house, since the walls were of stone all -round. That that one square of stone had been cut out behind the panel -with goddess Minerva on it, nobody, in fact, had known for more than a -hundred years, when the Lord of the Manor House of that time perished -fighting for the White Rose, and the secret of the moving panel had -perished with him. That the young Prince could have got out by the -window was too terrible to think of. It seemed impossible, moreover, -for the lattice was barred, leaving but quite narrow spaces between. -Nevertheless, Lady Chauncy caused the moat to be dragged, but happily, -of course, to no purpose. - -It all seemed like some dreadful conjuring trick. Lady Chauncy did -not know whether she was more glad or sorry that her husband had not -returned. About a fortnight hence he was to be back, and the King -with him, to fetch Charles away from the Manor House. Meanwhile she -hesitated to send information to his Majesty of what had happened, -because that would be spreading news which the Roundhead party against -the King would take advantage of, and try to get the boy into their -hands in order to drive a bargain with King Charles. Could it be they, -she asked herself in her perplexity, who had spirited him away? - -This was the terrible state of things Wynkin found when next afternoon -he returned to the Manor. He was the more troubled by the thought that -Lady Chauncy might imagine him to have been untrue to his trust after -so many years of faithful service. - -“But what do you advise, Wynkin?” said her ladyship, impatiently -tapping the floor with the point of her silken slipper. “Do say -something,” she added, as Wynkin maintained a thoughtful silence. - -“Well, then, speaking what I think,” replied Wynkin, “it is that I -would advise your ladyship to get a good night’s rest.” - -“Rest, forsooth. What next?” - -“It is too late to be doing anything to-day.” - -[Illustration] - -“And meanwhile?” cried Lady Chauncy despairingly. - -“Meanwhile,” said Wynkin, “there is a good Providence over us all.” - -“Perhaps you are right,” said Lady Chauncy, as she rose and went to her -sleeping-chamber, but not to sleep. - -When, however, the last light was out in the windows of the Manor -House Wynkin let himself out by a little postern of the garden wall, -and strolled onward by way of the bit of waste ground till he reached -the edge of the thicket, walking to and fro under the trees by the dim -light of the moon, cogitating deeply over a curious circumstance which -he had decided not to inform his mistress of in too great haste, lest -her hopes might be raised to no purpose. The one very certain fact was -that when he and Dickon came that morning about six o’clock to unload -the punt of the sacks, he had found the crimson frieze cloak on the top -of them, all crumpled and mud soiled, and touched here and there with -marks like tiny finger-marks. In some dim fashion it made Wynkin fancy -that he began to see daylight. At all events, he suddenly saw the light -of a lantern dodging about before him among the furze clumps—and as -already more than a day had gone by since Charles was missing, and such -news spreads like wildfire in spite of the utmost precaution, Wynkin -was considerably disturbed at sight of the light, which glanced now -and again on the figure of a person in a broad slouch-brimmed hat and -shrouded in a long black cloak. - -“Hullo!” he called, “who goes there?” - -“Nobody,” replied a disagreeable squeaky sort of man’s voice. “Anyway, -’tis no concern of yours.” - -“We’ll soon settle that question, Master Jack o’ Lantern,” said Wynkin, -bounding down over the hillocks towards the figure. Not, however, -before the man, dropping the lantern right into the middle of the gorse -clump he was hovering over, was pelting off as quick as his heavy cloak -would let him. - -[Illustration] - -In a minute Wynkin would have laid him by the heels, but suddenly up -rose a tremendous flare, for the lantern had fallen open as it dropped -and the light had caught the gorse, and the strange part of it all was -that, as the bush broke into one huge flame, it fell disappearing into -the ground, as if there was a deep hole beneath. Looking down, that was -precisely what Wynkin beheld, a deep hole, bricked round, and in one -side a half-open grated door. - -[Illustration] - -Looking regretfully enough after the fast-disappearing figure of Master -Jack o’ Lantern, Wynkin caught up the lantern and, setting it straight, -he jumped into the hole, where the bush was already smouldering to -nothing. He peered through the open grating, and the next moment he -passed in. “Where are we, I wonder?” he said to himself, “and—hullo! -what’s this?” he went on, as he nearly set foot on something that -glittered in the lantern gleam, bright as a star. - -It was a blue ribbon rosette, tied with silver cord, of the exact -pattern of the rosettes the little Prince was wearing on his shoes. -It was all sodden and soiled now with the mud it lay in, and Wynkin -picked it up as carefully as if it had been some little wounded bird, -and placed it inside his vest next his heart, which beat fast with -eager expectation. Then he hastened on, looking right and left all the -way he went, threading the windings of the narrow passage, and up the -twisting staircases, till at last he could go no farther because the -wooden panel barred his progress. “Oh, ho!” again said he to himself, -as he set his shoulder against the wood and pushed it with so much more -force than it required that it flapped round before he could right -himself, and he fell sprawling, lantern and all, along the floor. - -“By my faith!” he said, as he picked himself and the lantern up, and -stood looking round while he rubbed his shoulder, “it is the Cedar -Room!” - -And then more clearly than ever Wynkin began to see daylight, but all -the same his face was very grave and anxious, for he was vexed with -himself that he had not first given chase to Master Jack o’ Lantern, as -he called him. “For what could he be wanting skulking round the place -like that for? Ill news flies apace, and I doubt not the malcontents -are aware already of the child’s escape. Well,” he added more -cheerfully, - - “‘Hot boiled beans, and very good butter, - Ladies and gentlemen, come to supper.’ - -but for all the flare he made, he warn’t very warm, I fancy. The boy is -not in hiding hereabouts, if that red cloak means anything.” - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -HONOR BRIGHT - - -Ordinarily speaking, there is of course rarely much difficulty in -tracking little truant boys or even girls. Prince Charles was not, -however, a mere ordinary little boy. He was the King’s son, and the -people, who were beginning to think of fighting against King Charles on -account of displeasure with some of his ways of governing, would have -been very glad to get the child into their power. They thought they -would be able to make a better bargain with the King, who would agree -sooner to what they demanded out of fear that, if he did not do so, -they might harm the little boy. There were good and just Roundheads, -as those discontented persons were called, who would not have lent -their aid or approval to such miserable and mean ways of settling -matters, and among the many of them was the miller of Oakside. He was -a strict Roundhead, and if the quarrel came to a fight, he was quite -determined that he would, if it was necessary, lay down his life for -what he considered the right and good cause, against the King. Still -he prayed and trusted that there would not be war in the kingdom, and -the sorry sight of Englishmen fighting with Englishmen. It seemed too -fearful, and he now went about his work with a very grave face, though, -in a general way, he was neither sad nor sour-natured, but a brave, -industrious, honest, cheery man. - -When Wynkin was admitted next morning to Lady Chauncy’s little -sitting-room, he at once informed her of the past night’s adventures. -She was very much astonished at his discovery in the Cedar Room. “’Tis -certain,” she said, with almost a smile on her troubled face, “that, -as my husband so often hath said, ‘A fortress is not stronger than -its weakest part,’ which in this case appears, from what you tell me, -Wynkin, to be Minerva’s nose. But who’d have thought it? and if your -guess is correct about the red cloak, as I am persuaded it is, that is -the direction in which this most naughty boy hath gone.” - -And ere many days passed, Wynkin’s guesses became certainties, for, -after all, Oakside was only a very few miles from the village in which -his father and mother lived, for all Charles fancied he had walked an -immense long way that morning before he sat down and sobbed under the -oak-tree. Had the matter been merely one of coming to Oakside, and -fetching him away, the little runaway would soon have been back again -at the Manor, but it was not. There were now spies, and a number of -other evil-minded persons, loitering for many miles round, ready to -attack any of the Royalist folk, as the King’s party were called, who -should attempt to carry him away from Oakside. While he was under the -miller’s roof or in his care, they did not dare to touch him, as the -Miller himself was a powerful Roundhead, and one who was much trusted -and very wise in his way. - -Meanwhile, the miller’s boy turned out a capital boy for such a small -one. He was most diligent, rising with the lark, and so obliging and -obedient, and, though sad sometimes, he was generally merry, singing -at his work, and when the millwork was done, he would fetch in water -from the well for Mistress Speedwell, and logs from the out-house for -the great kitchen hearth-place, for the evenings were beginning to grow -chilly, and he played cat’s cradle and spillikins with Molly, and cut -out little men and women and cows and dogs from paper, to her boundless -delight, and the miller, for all he was so silent, and even grim in -his manner to him, was forced to yield him a good word when Mistress -Speedwell would ask her husband if he did not consider that the shelter -they had given the poor forlorn gipsy lad had returned as a blessing on -themselves, for Mistress Speedwell did not know the truth, whatever her -husband might know, or whatever he might suspect. - -The only fault Mistress Speedwell had to find with him was that, though -he kept himself very neat and spruce in the linen jacket and breeches -she made for him, he never could be persuaded to wash the flour off his -face. The reason he gave for this was that millers were always white. -It was the proper thing for them to be so. - -One evening she grew really angry about this, “Do you hear?” she said, -“I insist on you washing your face. When you came, it was as black as a -tinker’s, and then you had not been here a couple of hours before you -got it all over flour. If you do not do as I bid you, I will take you -and souse your head in the pail myself.” - -“Please——” began the boy. - -“Ah, please me no please,” she cried, turning to her husband; “will you -not have the urchin obey me?” - -“You hear what you are bidden to do,” said the miller to the boy, but -he spoke rather unwillingly. And Charles crept off, daring no longer to -disobey. - -“Ah, now,” said Mistress Speedwell, when he returned with his brown -cheeks shining like a warming-pan with the rubbing she had bidden him -not to be sparing of, and a deep flush from brow to chin, “now we can -look truth in the face,” and she was satisfied, and settled quietly to -her wheel; and Molly, who had been sorely disheartened to hear her -playmate scolded, smiled delightedly. She thought it was the nicest -boy’s face she had ever seen; but the miller looked graver than ever, -and only said “Umph!” as he glanced over some letters he had received -that day, and then sat gazing in a very troubled manner into the fire. - -The next evening soon after dark a solemn-looking, plainly-attired -gentleman rode up to the gate of the cottage and asked to see Master -John Speedwell. He was shown into the best room, where he kept the -miller talking for more than an hour, but the interview did not appear -to have been very satisfactory to the visitor, who said to Speedwell, -as he went away, “I trust that you will come to see the error of your -resolve. And,” he went on, when the miller made no reply, “seeing that -you are not rich——” - -“No, I am a poor man,” said the miller, “but I hope always to remain an -honorable man, and I will give up the boy for no money price.” - -“Not even in the good cause?” scowled the stranger. - -“The cause would be no longer good were I to do this that you seek of -me. So fare you well, sir, for by my honor, which I have always kept -bright and fair, I will deliver the boy only into the hands to whom he -belongs.” - -“Well,” said the stranger, in deeply-angered tones, “you know what to -expect—I have warned you.” - -“And though my house be stormed, and you should be able to kidnap the -boy—which I much doubt you shall succeed in doing—I abide by what I -have said,” replied the miller. - -And so the stranger mounted his horse again, muttering and grumbling -till he was gone out of sight. - -Then the miller returned to the kitchen, and sat down by the fire -alone. The rest of the little household were all abed. He listened -intently. For a long time there was no sound but the brisk night wind -stirring round the house, but as the village church-clock struck -eleven, there came a low tap on the lattice. The miller rose, and, -drawing aside the curtain, said in a low tone as he opened the lattice, -“Are you ready?” - -“Ay, ready,” replied the person who tapped, dropping the folds of the -big cloak he was wearing from about his face, which was Wynkin’s. - -“’Tis well you are come to-night,” said the miller, “for my house is -threatened. They might even storm it to-morrow and steal the Prince, -for all my endeavor.” - -[Illustration] - -“I dared not venture till to-night,” said Wynkin, “but I know that this -evening the coast is clear. They are all gone upon another scent.” - -“Come with me,” said the miller, and he led the way above stairs. “Have -you a horse?” - -“Nay,” smiled Wynkin, “I have the punt; which is safer, since it is -less suspected, and it is freighted with half a dozen stout men-at-arms -under the canvas.” - -“Take your treasure,” said the miller, as he unlocked a door, and -motioned Wynkin to approach the bed where the miller’s boy lay sleeping -soundly after his day’s fetching and carrying, “if indeed, as I -believe, it belong to your master.” - -“Ay, truly it is our lost one,” murmured Wynkin, as he lifted the -sleeping child so gently in his arms that he did not stir, but seemed -only to breathe the more restfully as the trusty serving-man wrapped -his cloak close round him so that he could not be seen. “Heaven reward -you, Master Speedwell,” and, turning down the stairway he sped out by -the door, never stopping till he reached the punt held fast alongside -by many hands that stretched from under the canvas covering. Then as -the word was given, away, fast, on and on glided the punt, and sleeping -the restful sleep of a tired child, the little Prince never stirred -till far on towards morning just before the breaking of the dawn, by -which time he lay in his own little carved bed in the Cedar Room shaded -by its silken curtains, and then Charles was too drowsy to understand -much. - -“Is that you, Wynkin?” he murmured, as at the sound of his voice the -serving-man came beside him, while Lady Chauncy and Sir William, and -a tall, dignified gentleman, who was the King, and had but that night -arrived at the Manor, drew back, lest they might startle the boy. “Is -it you, Wynkin, dear?” - -“Yes, your Highness.” - -“Ah! you don’t know what mighty strange dreams I’ve been dreaming. All -about windmills, and little tots of girls, and then, oh, Wynkin, a -terrible dark hole—so dark——” - -“Think of that now!” interrupted Wynkin. “Well, if I were you I’d wait -and tell it all to-morrow.” - -“Yes, and then I heard my father’s voice. I wish that wasn’t all a -dream, I can tell you.” - -“Well, I expect that will be coming true before many days—perhaps many -hours—are over. But, go to sleep again now, won’t you?” - -“Yes. Is this the Cedar Room?” - -“Certainly. You like the Cedar Room, don’t you?” - -“Oh, yes. ’Tis well enough, but I don’t like the door of it to be -locked.” - -“Oh, well, then we must talk to Lady Chauncy about it to-morrow,” said -Wynkin, as he stole a sly glance at her ladyship, who smiled in her -white prim frame of a cap. “It is a grave question, and will have to be -considered.” - -“No, it will not,” said the Prince of Wales. “’Tis proper for my wishes -to be obeyed.” - -“Well, if you promise not to run away, perhaps——” - -“Run away—I do not want to run away. I——” - -“You’d promise you wouldn’t?” - -“Certainly.” - -“On your honor?” - -“_Honor bright_,” murmured Charles as he fell asleep again. - - * * * * * - -[Illustration] - -It is hardly necessary to say that Charles kept his word. The favor -he desired was granted him after he had been summoned next day to -the presence of the King and of Sir William and Lady Chauncy in the -dining-hall. Each of them in turn pointed out to him not only the -terrible danger he had exposed himself to by running away out into the -wide world, but also the misery and strife that had nearly come of -it for everybody—not by any means least or last for good Master and -Mistress Speedwell and the sweet little maid Molly, who had been so -kind and pitying of his plight. - -After that Charles was permitted to leave the great shadowy hall, -and since the King and Sir William considered that he must have -suffered enough, and had shown himself brave as boys should be under -difficulties and privations, no more was said about the matter by the -King or by Sir William. Lady Chauncy, however, never wearied for a long -time of lamenting that she could not “give him a good whipping as he -deserved,” she said, “as much as any other naughty little boy,” and to -escape that was one of the very few advantages Charles found in being -the King’s eldest son, upon whom at that time it was not accounted -lawful to lay whipping materials of any kind. - -Till a short time after, when his father took him to London with him, -Charles had his freedom in the old house as far as his given word -allowed it him. As to Wynkin, he remained Charles’s most trusty and -well-beloved friend to the end of his long life. - -Molly grew up to be a brave yeoman’s wife, and of winter nights as she -sat at her wheel and little, merry-faced, golden-haired, blue-eyed -children, like once she herself had been, were gathered round her, she -would relate the story of the gipsy boy who was now King of England. -As for the miller, he lived long and peacefully, not mixing so much -as of old in the affairs of the nation, but attending to the grinding -of his corn, and listening with a contented mind to the music of the -mill-sails, as they whirled in the wind. - - * * * * * - -[Transcriber’s note—the following changes have been made to this text: - -Page 23—it to if—“even if he dared”.] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONOR BRIGHT *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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