“The fugitives cannot have left the house, captain—of that I am certain,” Delves remarked. “No one has come down stairs.”
“We shall discover them, I doubt not,” Stelfax rejoined. “Visit yon inner chamber once more, and then we will search elsewhere.”
The sergeant did as directed, and made a rigorous but unsuccessful investigation of the apartment.
“I did not expect any one would be found there,” Stelfax said; “but nothing must be neglected. You, Colonel Maunsel, and all of you,” he continued, “will remain prisoners for the present within this chamber—with the exception of Master Increase Micklegift, who is at liberty to depart.”
“Nay, I will tarry where I am,” the Independent minister rejoined.
For a moment, Stelfax seemed disposed to insist upon his departure, but, changing his mind, he exclaimed, “Tarry here if thou wilt. Sentinels will be placed at the door, and will suffer no one to go forth.”
Upon this, he quitted the room with Delves, and the door was closed upon the prisoners. As soon as this was done, Micklegift approached the old Cavalier, and said to him, “Not altogether unjustly did yon man of wrath tax me with leaguing with your party. Your son owes his safety to me. But for my timely aid he would be now in the hands of his enemies, and you are aware how he would have been dealt with.”
“It is quite true, worthy sir,” Mr. Beard subjoined. “Good Master Micklegift must be regarded as your son’s preserver, as he has since been my defender from violence.”
“I thank you from my heart, sir,” the colonel said, warmly. “I have been much mistaken in you.”
“Thank the worthy man, my child,” Mr. Beard said to Dulcia. “We are all greatly beholden to him.”
“He has my thanks,” Dulcia replied, unable to overcome her strong aversion to Micklegift; “and I trust he has been influenced by good motives in what he has done.”
“Why should you mistrust him, my child?” her father remarked, somewhat severely.
“Ay, wherefore shouldst thou doubt me, maiden?” Micklegift said, in a half-reproachful tone, And bending his head towards her, he whispered, “This have I done for thy sake—and I will do yet more, if thou dost desire it.”
Dulcia made no reply, but cast her eyes upon the ground.
“Take comfort, worthy sir, I entreat you,” Mr. Beard said, noticing that the colonel seemed still a prey to keen anxiety. “All may yet be well.”
“Not till I am assured of my son’s safety shall I feel relief,” the old Cavalier rejoined. “Little has yet been gained. ‘Tis a mere escape from one room to another. Flight from the house, guarded as it is, is next to impossible, and I know not where concealment can be found within doors.”
“Concealment will not be attempted, I apprehend, sir,” Mr. Beard remarked. “Ninian seemed confident of getting out of the house secretly.”
“Did he so?” cried the colonel. “Then I have better hopes. Some plan may have occurred to him which does not occur to me. Hist!—did you not hear a noise?”
“Only the trampling of heavy feet as the Roundhead soldiers move from chamber to chamber,” Mr. Beard replied. “Pray Heaven your son escape them!”
“Heaven, in its mercy, shield him!” Dulcia cried.
“The noise grows louder!” exclaimed the colonel. “A struggle seems to be taking place in the room overhead.”
Unable to repress an ejaculation of terror, Dulcia fell upon her knees, and prayed audibly.
“Methinks the sound comes from the chimney!” Micklegift cried.
“From the chimney!” the colonel exclaimed, advancing towards the fireplace, followed by the Independent minister. “You are right. Some one is coming down,” he added, stooping to look up the chimney-funnel. “Who is there?”
“A friend,” replied the voice of Ninian. “Is the coast clear? May we come down?”
“Powers of mercy!” the old Cavalier ejaculated. “Can it be? Is my son there?”
“It is the colonel who speaks,” Ninian said, evidently addressing some one above him. “Yes, yes, the captain is here. Is all safe below?”
“It is—yet stay! those ruthless Ironsides may return!” the old Cavalier cried.
But before the latter part of his exclamation could be uttered, Ninian dropped lightly on the hearth.
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