“I see not how that can be accomplished,” groaned Mr. Beard. “The poor young man is lost. What will his unhappy father say when he returns?”
“I cannot bear to think of it,” John returned, with a look of anguish. “Cost what it may, an effort must be made to save him.”
“I may help you in this extremity,” said Micklegift, in a low tone to John. “You will not forget the service?”
“Never,” John returned, emphatically—”never! But what you do must be done quickly.”
“Not a moment shall be lost on my part,” Micklegift rejoined. And he moved towards the Roundhead leader.
“Methinks you did not sufficiently examine yon further closet, captain,” Micklegift observed. “In my opinion it hath a false back.”
“You must have quicker eyes than I have, to have made that discovery, Master Preacher,” Stelfax cried, falling at once into the snare. “However, I will go see.”
“I will show you what I mean,” said the Independent divine, preceding him to the closet.
As he entered the recess with Stelfax, the Independent divine cast a significant look at John, the import of which the latter at once comprehended.
“Thou art lighter of foot than I, Ninian,” he said to the young falconer. “Fly to yon closet!—the key is luckily in the door—lock them in!—quick!”
Ninian needed not second bidding. Stealing swiftly and noiselessly to the closet-door, he clapped it to suddenly, and locked it, almost before Captain Stelfax, who was at the further end of the deep recess, could turn round.
Infuriated at the successful trick played upon him, the Roundhead leader dashed himself with all his force against the door; but it was of solid oak, and resisted his efforts. He then roared out to the Royalists to set him instantly free, threatening them with his direst vengeance if they refused; but so far from attending to him, Ninian very coolly took the key out of the lock, saying, with a laugh, “If you wait till I let you loose, captain, you will wait long enough.”
Meantime, John Habergeon had not been idle. So soon as Stelfax was secured, he rushed to the mantelpiece, touched the secret spring, and putting his head into the aperture, called to Clavering to come forth without an instant’s delay.
The young man at once obeyed the summons. The noise made by the searchers had reached him in his retreat, and guessing the cause, he prepared to stand upon his defence, resolved not to surrender with life. Happily, his resolution was not put to the test.
In a few words John Habergeon explained to him what had occurred. But though he was free, escape might be rendered impracticable by the return of the troopers. What was to be done next? To get out of the house seemed almost impossible. Every outlet, as John knew, was guarded. Still, something must be done—and quickly. No mercy was now to be expected from the maddened Roundhead leader, who was hammering and hacking at the door with his sword, and making a terrific disturbance.
John’s brain was usually fertile in expedients, but he was at his wits’ end now, when Ninian, coming up to them, recalled his energies.
“Why do you loiter?” the young falconer cried, impatiently “Those cursed troopers will be back in a moment, and Captain Clavering will be caught.”
“But all the doors are guarded!” John cried.
“Except the door of this room, and that will serve our turn,” Ninian answered, with a laugh. “Come with me, and I will show you how to get out of the house, in spite of them.”
“Have with you then,” cried Clavering. “Will you not come with us, sir?” he added to Mr. Beard.
“No, my dear son,” the clergyman said. “Do you seek safety in flight; I will abide here.”
“You had better come, reverend sir,” John cried. “Yon savage Roundhead is no respecter of persons, and will show little consideration for your holy calling.”
“I will withstand his malice,” Mr. Beard answered, resignedly. “Do not concern yourselves about me. Go!—and Heaven guard you!”
“Quick! quick! or you will be too late!” cried Ninian, who had partly opened the door. “Methinks I hear them coming.”