Ovingdean Grange by W. Harrison Ainsworth

“You spoke of confession, sir,” he said to the Roundhead leader. “What hath Mr. Beard to reveal?”

“You shall learn presently, Colonel Maunsel,” the other rejoined, sternly.

“Nay, he shall learn at once,” Micklegift interposed. “The valiant captain hath been locked in yonder closet, and waxing wroth at his confinement, he visited his anger on Master Beard’s head, charging the unoffending old man with aiding a fugitive to escape.”

“How know’st thou Master Beard is unoffending?” Stelfax cried. “Thou wert shut up with me in the closet, and couldst not tell what took place.”

“Ha!” the old Cavalier exclaimed, a sudden light breaking upon him.

“The valiant captain seems to suspect that a proscribed malignant hath been concealed within this room,” Micklegift continued, with a significant look at Colonel Maunsel.

“I am certain of it,” the Roundhead leader returned; “and I begin to suspect it was by thy instrumentality, master preacher, that he hath escaped.”

“How could that be, seeing I was with thee in the closet?” Micklegift rejoined.

“It might easily be—since it was by thy device that I was led into the snare. Bitterly shalt thou rue it, if I find thee leagued with the Amalekites.”

“Let it be proven that I am leagued with them,” Micklegift rejoined, “and I will abide any punishment thou mayst choose to inflict upon me.”

“Proof that thou art in concert with the enemies of the Commonwealth may appear hereafter,” Stelfax retorted. “Meantime, I have a question to put to you, Colonel Maunsel, whereunto I demand a distinct answer. Hath Amon, the son of Manasseh, whose provocations kindled the wrath of the Lord God against Judah—hath Amon, I say, taken refuge in thy house?”

“I will not feign to misunderstand you,” the old Cavalier rejoined. “But were it as you suspect, think you I would betray him?”

“You prevaricate, and convert my doubts into certainties,” cried Stelfax. “The Young Man hath been here—nay, is here still—for he cannot have eluded the vigilance of the sentinels. Are you aware, Colonel Maunsel, that a Proclamation was posted this morning at your gate, to the effect that whosoever shall harbour Charles Stuart shall be held guilty of high treason? Did you read that Proclamation?”

“I did, and would have trampled it beneath my feet.”

“The punishment of high treason is death, colonel—death on the scaffold! Forget not that,” Stelfax said.

“I shall but die as my Master died, if I so perish,” the old Cavalier rejoined.

Just then, Sergeant Delves entered the room, and the half-opened door afforded a glimpse of several other troopers standing without in the gallery.

“The men await your orders, captain,” said the sergeant, advancing towards his leader.

“It is well,” Stelfax answered. “Before I proceed to the search Colonel Maunsel, it is right you should know that two of your retainers, John Habergeon and Ninian Saxby by name, have aided and abetted in this attempted escape of a concealed traitor and enemy to the Commonwealth. If they fall into my hands I shall show them little grace.”

“Heaven grant them a deliverance!” murmured the colonel.

“And now,” continued Stelfax, “I must see the hiding-place within yon chimney. Will you show me the entrance to it voluntarily, or must my men break down the mantelpiece? See it I will.”

Colonel Maunsel hesitated, uncertain how to act.

“Advance, men—to your task!” Stelfax said.

“Hold!” the colonel exclaimed. And stepping towards the hearth, he touched the secret spring, and the pillar flew back.

“An ingenious contrivance, truly,” cried Stelfax, with a laugh; “but you must have a better device than this to delude me. Give me thy pistol, sergeant,” he continued, taking the weapon from Delves. “I will go in myself. Guard thou the entrance. I will not be entrapped a second time.” So saying, he stepped into the recess, while Delves planted himself outside it.

Nothing was said during the brief absence of the Ironside leader. Colonel Maunsel, though almost confident of his son’s escape, was not wholly free from uneasiness, while Dulcia glanced anxiously and inquiringly at her father, who strove to reassure her with his looks.

In another moment, Stelfax came forth again.

“The bird has flown,” he said, “but the nest is yet warm. He cannot be far off.”

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