“Egad!” he exclaimed, taking up the doublet he had just laid aside, this is a very comfortable old house, and I should have been quite as well lodged here as at Trent—and well cared for, moreover, by the pretty little Phillis who has just left me. For many reasons I am glad I am here, though Wilmot would fain have dissuaded me from doing soon the score of danger! Pshaw! no danger is to be apprehended—at all events, not to-day—and to-morrow his enemies will look in vain for Charles Stuart. Hang these Puritanical garments,” he added, throwing down the jerkin in disgust, “I abominate them. Let us see what this wardrobe contains. A doublet of Clavering’s might suit me.” With this he opened the door of the wardrobe, and taking out a handsome suit of black taffeta, exclaimed, “Oddsfish! these are the very things.”
With this, he proceeded to array himself in the, new-found apparel, which fitted him to admiration, and was adjusting his laced band before a mirror set in a frame of black oak, when the arras curtain was suddenly drawn aside, and two men, whose appearance and looks left him no doubt of their intentions, stepped from behind it.
IX
HOW THE KING WAS SHUT UP IN THE HIDING-PLACE
IT is scarcely necessary to say that the menacing intruders who surprised Charles at his toilette were Stelfax and Micklegift. The Ironside leader’s first act was to possess himself of the pistols and rapier, which the king had incautiously laid upon the table, and deliver them to his companion.
“Ha! betrayed!” exclaimed Charles, springing towards the table in search of his arms, and perceiving to his dismay that they were gone.
Even in this extremity he did not lose his self-possession, but eyed his foes resolutely and even haughtily.
“What makes you here?” he sternly demanded.
“I am here to arrest thee, Charles Stuart, in the name of the Parliament of England, and by order of his Excellency the Lord General Cromwell. Surrender thyself my prisoner—rescue or no rescue—or I will shoot thee through the head.”
“Beware ere thou liftest thine hand against the Lord’s anointed!” exclaimed Charles, with a look and gesture so full of majesty that it inspired awe in both his hearers, and the Ironside captain involuntarily lowered the pistol which he had levelled at the king.
Charles instantly perceived the slight advantage he had gained, and sought to profit by it. If he could only gain time, he thought, assistance might arrive. He glanced around to see if there was a hand-bell within reach, a whistle, or any other means of giving the alarm. But nothing presented itself.
“For the second time, I ask thee, Charles Stuart,” said Stelfax, “dost thou yield thyself a prisoner, or wilt thou compel me to lay violent hands upon thy person?”
“Off, villains!” exclaimed the king, retreating a few paces. “Touch me at your peril. I will resist to the death.”
“Be ruled by my counsel, O insensate young man!” exclaimed Micklegift. “Resistance is useless, and will bring instant destruction upon thee. Yield thee to what cannot be averted, and submit patiently to the decrees of Heaven.”
“Heaven hath never decreed that I shall perish by such base hands as those of thy comrade!” cried the king.
“Better for thee thou shouldst die by my hands than by those of the headsman, like thy tyrannous father,” retorted Stelfax. “For the last time, I ask thee, dost thou yield thyself a prisoner?”
Charles seemed to have taken a sudden resolution.
“Since it cannot be helped, I yield,” he said; “but I couple my surrender with no promise. Keep guard over me as best ye may, I will escape if I can.”
Stelfax made no reply, but signed to the monarch to come forth into the outer room. Charles obeyed, and marched towards his captors with great dignity and unshaken firmness, secretly wondering what they meant to do with him. He was not long kept in suspense.
They were now in the centre of the chamber, and Stelfax directed his companion to open the door of the hiding-place. “Thou know’st the secret spring,” he said—”touch it, I prithee. I will not quit the prisoner, even for a moment.”