Giving the word to his men to dismount, Stelfax next directed two of them to stand at the door, and suffer no one to go forth. Every other outlet from the house was to be similarly watched: the guard to be relieved every half-hour, so that no man might be deprived of his share of the creature comforts to be found within. Sergeant Delves was instructed to take the horses to the stables, see them foddered, and then rejoin his leader.
All these orders given, Captain Stelfax sprang from his saddle, and, marching into the entrance-hall, made the whole place resound with his clattering sword and heavy boots. Old Martin Geere and the others kept at a respectful distance, anxiously watching him.
On reaching the middle of the hall, the formidable leader stood still, as if uncertain in which direction he should first bend his steps.
“Will it please you to enter the banqueting-room, or the library, worshipful captain?” Martin Geere inquired.
“I shall enter every room in the house in turn,” Stelfax rejoined; “but I care not if I begin with the banqueting-room.”
“A small collation shall be served there in a moment, captain,” said Giles Moppett.
“Mayhap, your worship may like a cup of Bordeaux, or of Gascoigne wine?” insinuated Elias Crundy.
“Bring a flask of the best wine thou hast in thy cellar, fellow,” returned Stelfax; “and broach a cask of thy stoutest ale for my men—unless they prefer wine, in which case thou wilt give it them.”
“They shall have whatsoever they ask for, of that your worship may rest assured,” Elias said.
“Or your own skins will suffer for it, I promise thee,” Stelfax rejoined. “It seems, then, that you have not heard that the rebellious malignant, your young master, was slain at Worcester?”
“Alack! worshipful captain, we have heard the sad tidings,” answered Martin Geere, in a doleful tone; “but we have not ventured to tell the colonel. Poor gentleman! the news will break his heart.”
“Tut! thou art mistaken,” Stelfax cried. “I told him of the occurrence myself, and he seemed more surprised than grieved. But who brought you the news?”
“An old trooper of King Charles’ time, John Habergeon, captain.”
“Where is the knave? Bring him before me.”
So saying, he marched into the banqueting-hall, and flung himself into the arm-chair usually occupied by the colonel. In hopes of mollifying the formidable intruder, Giles Moppett and Elias Crundy both bestirred themselves, and speedily set wine and eatables before him. But this did not pacify the captain, for he roared out, “Why comes not the rogue Habergeon to me? Must I go fetch him?”
“I am here, captain,” John responded, entering the banqueting-room. “What would you with me?”
Close behind the old trooper came Sergeant Delves, who had just returned from the stables. Stelfax looked sternly at John, who stood bolt upright before him, never moving a muscle.
“Thou shouldst have been a soldier of the Commonwealth, fellow,” observed the Roundhead captain, approvingly—”thou hast the look of an Ironside.”
“I am sorry to hear it,” John replied. “Your honour might not deem it a compliment were I to say that you are too well-looking for a Puritan, and have more the air of a roystering Cavalier.”
“Go to, knave, and liken me not to a profane follower of Jehoram,” cried Stelfax, not altogether displeased. “Take heed that thou answerest me truthfully. Thou art newly returned from that battle-field whereat the Young Man, Charles Stuart, was utterly routed, and where our great general, like Pekah, the son of Remaliah, slew many thousands of men of valour in one day because they had forsaken the Lord God of their fathers. Didst thou bear arms in the service of Ahaz?”
“I followed my young master—”
“Who paid the penalty of his rebellious folly with his life—I know it. But I demand of thee if thou wert actually engaged in the strife?”
“I tried to rescue my young master when he was stricken from his horse.”
“And thy efforts were futile. He was justly slain, forasmuch as he hearkened not unto the words of Necho, but came to fight in the valley of Megiddo. However, I blame not thy fidelity, and it is well for thee that we take not account of the units of the host, but only of the captains. Thou owest thy safety to thine insignificance. But if thou art ever again caught in arms against the Commonwealth, a rope’s end will be thy quittance. Had thy young master been living, I might have spared him the ceremony of a court-martial, my power being absolute.”