“It was much dinted, I promise you, father,” Clavering replied. “Howbeit, I escaped with life, though those caitiff troopers declared they would send me to perdition.”
“Heaven open their own eyes and save them from the pit!” the clergyman ejaculated.
“Nay, such spawn of Satan deserve not your intercession for them, reverend sir,” the old Cavalier exclaimed, impetuously. “I would despatch such devil’s servants to their master without an instant’s scruple. Oh! John, my worthy friend,” he added to the old trooper, who was still quietly pursuing his meal, as if in no wise concerned in Clavering’s relation, “I estimated thee aright. I knew thou wouldst be serviceable to my son.”
“I would not have stirred a foot for those cursed Roundhead curs, your honour,” John Habergeon replied; “but I wanted to draw them from Captain Clavering as the sole means of saving his life, so I made pretence of flight, and the rascals galloped after me. They shot my horse, but I got off scathless.”
“Thou art a brave fellow, John,” the colonel said
“Brave, indeed! and trusty as brave!” Clavering cried. “He rescued me from certain destruction. I was unable to stir from the spot where I fell, and if those butcherly Roundheads had returned, or others of their side had come up and found me lying there and still breathing, they would infallibly have knocked out my brains.”
“Now to look at dear, good John Habergeon, no one would guess what a warm heart he possesses,” Dulcia exclaimed. “I ever liked him; but I knew not his true worth till now.”
“Men must not be judged by their exterior, child,” Mr. Beard said. “The sweetest kernel hath sometimes the roughest shell.”
“Just as the best blade may be found in an ill scabbard,” the colonel said. “John is somewhat harsh of feature, it must be owned, but he hath a right honest look. You would never mistake him for a Puritan.”
“I trow not, your honour, if a real Puritan were nigh,” the old trooper replied, with a grin. “But enough, methinks, has been said about me.”
“Not half enough,” Clavering rejoined. “I have not told you a tithe of what John did for me, father. When you know all, you will comprehend how much gratitude I owe him. He bore me in his arms from the scene of strife to a place of safety, where he set my broken arm, and put splints, which he himself quickly prepared as well as any surgeon could have done, over the fracture, bound up the limb, dressed my bruises, and, this done, he again carried me to a barn, where we passed the night, John watching by me all the while. After some hours’ rest I was able to move, and we set out before daybreak across the country, as near as we could conjecture in the direction of Stratford. We made but slow progress, for I was very stiff and weak; but John lent me all the aid he could, cheering me on, and talking to me of home and of those I loved, when I was half inclined to lie down in despair. As the day advanced, he procured me some milk and bread, without which I could no longer have gone on, for I had tasted nothing since the previous morn—the morn, you will remember, of the fatal battle. Having partaken of this food, I was enabled to continue my journey, and ere night we had found shelter in a thicket between Stratford and Long Marston, when John left me for a while to procure fresh provisions for our support. The faithful fellow came back, bringing with him meat and a bottle of stout ale; but though half famished, he would touch nothing himself till I had eaten and drunk. But I must be brief, for this talking is too much for me. During the whole of our toilsome journey hither, exposed as we have been to constant hazard from the Republican troops which are scouring the country in every direction, dreading almost to show our faces lest we should be set upon by some Roundhead churls, resting now in a wood, now beneath a haystack, but never under a roof, obtaining food with difficulty, and the little we got of the coarsest kind—during all these difficulties and dangers, my trusty companion, who might easily have provided for his own safety, kept ever by my side, and tended me, cheered me, watched over me—nay, actually in two instances saved me from capture with his good right hand, for I could do nothing in my own defence—and finally succeeded in bringing me home in safety.”