Ovingdean Grange by W. Harrison Ainsworth

“Nay, my post is without,” the trooper rejoined. And thinking all was right, he went forth, closing the door after him.

For some time no other interruption occurred. Micklegift became somewhat assiduous in his attentions to Dulcia, and she, knowing that Clavering’s life was in his hands, did not venture to manifest the repugnance she felt towards him. Not for an instant, however, did she stir from her father’s side. Mr. Beard took little part in the conversation, and, indeed, scarcely noted what was said. Colonel Maunsel withdrew into the inner room, and sinking into a chair, gave way to painful reflection.

Thus more than an hour passed, and still Stelfax returned not. Thrice during the interval—long it seemed to the expectants—had a sentinel entered the room. Although the imprisoned Royalists knew that the search would prove ineffectual, intense anxiety was felt by them as to how the Roundhead leader would bear his disappointment. In his anger he might resort to measures of increased severity. The savage character of the man warranted such a conclusion.

At length, the sound of heavy footsteps were heard within the gallery, followed by the grounding of arms, and the stern voice of the captain of the Ironsides could be distinguished, as he questioned the sentinels. Presently afterwards he entered the room. Rage and disappointment were written in his features, and he glanced fiercely at the group before him.

“Where is Colonel Maunsel?” he demanded, in a harsh voice.

“I am here,” the old Cavalier answered, rising from his seat, and advancing towards him.

“It may not, perchance, surprise you, Colonel Maunsel, to be told that my search—strict though it has been—has proved fruitless,” pursued the Ironside captain; “but though foiled for the moment, I am not to be beaten, as you will find to your cost. Three persons have escaped me—two of your own retainers, and a third person, hidden within this room, whose flight has been traitorously abetted. Now, mark me, colonel. I know you to be proud and stiff-necked, like all your rebellious party; but regard for self may sway you. The three persons I have alluded to are still in your house. Produce them, and you will save me some trouble and yourself vexation. Refuse, and I shall take other three persons in their stead, to be dealt with as the authorities may see fit. You yourself, colonel, will be one of my prisoners.” And he slightly paused to note the effect of his words upon the old Cavalier.

“Proceed, sir,” said the other, firmly.

“The second person I shall take will be Master Beard,” pursued Stelfax, speaking with great deliberation. “The third will be his daughter.”

“His daughter!” exclaimed the colonel, starting. “You dare not do it. On what pretence would you make her a prisoner?”

“I render an account of my actions to those only who have the right to question me, colonel,” rejoined Stelfax, “and such is not your case. It will be painful to act thus harshly, I admit; but you enforce severity upon me. Deliver up the three men to me, and I depart at once, without offering you further molestation.”

“I cannot do so,” groaned the colonel—”I would not, if I could.”

“Ay, there the truth came out,” Stelfax retorted, with a bitter laugh. “That you can produce them if you will, I wot full well. It grieves me to the soul to deal harshly with this comely and delicate damsel. That I am forced to do so is owing to perverseness on your part—not to want of humanity on mine.”

“Affect not to feel for me, I pray you, sir,” cried Dulcia. “Your pity is unneeded and unsolicited. If Colonel Maunsel and my father are made prisoners, I desire to go with them.”

“Make yourself easy, my child,” Mr. Beard said. “This man will not venture to stretch his authority so far. He cannot mean to do as he avouches.”

“Not mean it!” Stelfax echoed, in a jeering tone; “you will see anon whether I mean what I say or not, Master Beard.”

“At least give ear unto me,” said Micklegift, advancing towards

“Peace! I will not listen to thee,” cried Stelfax, roughly.

“Yet have I something to say unto thee to which thou wilt willingly attend,” said Micklegift, in no wise abashed by the other’s rudeness. “It is not meet that this damsel should be made thy captive.”

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