His instructions were carefully obeyed. The whole district he had indicated was traversed by his men; but without effect. No traces of the fugitives could be detected. Whither they had gone after leaving Newhaven was a mystery that could not be solved—no one appearing to have seen them. Even when the pursuers were really on the right scent, they remained at fault. A visit, as we have already mentioned, was paid to the Star at Alfriston; but though the whole of the fugitives were at that time in the hostelry, they were so well concealed that not the slightest suspicion of their propinquity was entertained by the Ironsides. In anticipation of a visit of the kind, the horses brought off by the Royalists had been removed to an out-of-the-way shed at some distance from the inn. Luckily, no one in the village had witnessed the arrival of the fugitives, so betrayal was impossible, except by the ostler, and there was no fear of him. From Alfriston the troopers went on to Wilmington, where of course they did not learn much. But besides missing the objects of their quest, all three parties were more than once duped by false intelligence. Notwithstanding their disappointment, the search was continued throughout the day, and it was only at nightfall that the three divisions returned to Lewes, and faced their wrathful leader. Their failure was a heavy blow to Stelfax. He had delayed his return to Ovingdean till night, hoping to go back in triumph. But shame, and the sense of discomfiture, detained him till the next day, when, determined to make an imposing appearance, he rode thither at the head of fifty men.
By this time, owing to the exertions of the sergeant, discipline had been completely restored among the men left under his charge. Helpless Henly and the two others, who had been guilty of insubordination and drunkenness, were still under arrest. Delves was therefore able to give a satisfactory account of himself to his leader but it was not equally satisfactory to Stelfax to learn that Colonel Maunsel was dangerously ill, and entirely confined to his bed. The vexations and anxieties undergone by the old Cavalier had proved too much for him. On the day after his son’s escape with the other Royalists, he was unable to leave his couch, and his enfeebled condition greatly alarmed those in attendance upon him. No improvement had taken place in his health, but rather the reverse, when Stelfax arrived at the Grange.
Without making any remark on the information he had received, but determined to judge for himself, the Ironside leader marched at once to the room in which the colonel was lying, and found him supported by pillows, and looking the picture of death. Mr. Beard and Dulcia were seated by the couch, and the former had a Bible on his knee. Both arose as Stelfax entered, and the old Cavalier made an effort to raise himself.
For a moment not a word was said. The stern Republican officer folded his arms upon his breast, and gazed steadfastly, but not without a slight touch of compassion in his glance, at the invalided, but still noble-looking gentleman before him. At length he said,
“I have come to carry you a prisoner to Lewes, Colonel Maunsel. Are you ready to go?”
“You must prepare a litter for my transport,” the old Cavalier replied, feebly. “I cannot move a limb.”
“Surely, sir,” cried Mr. Beard to Stelfax, “if you have any touch of humanity in your composition you will not attempt to move the colonel in this state. He will never reach Lewes alive.”
Dulcia cast a supplicating look at the Roundhead leader, but did not speak.
“Waste not your time in idle entreaties, my good friend,” observed Colonel Maunsel, feebly. “I know the ruthless and inflexible character of this man too well to suppose him accessible to the common dictates of humanity. Take me, sir,” he continued, sternly. “Bid your soldiers bear me, living, to the grave.”
“Remove him at your proper peril, sir,” exclaimed Mr. Beard. “I warn you again that he is dangerously ill. If he dies by the way, his death will lie at your door.”