Then came a suggestion from Lady Webb, to the effect that she and Sir John should drive back to Bamborough. This was likewise adopted.
Preparations for a general start were then made at once. Trunks and valises were packed up. Riding-dresses donned, horses brought round, Sir John Webb’s carriage got ready, and in less than half an hour the prince and a large party consisting of Lord Derwentwater and his betrothed, Tom Forster and his fair sister, Colonel Oxburgh and his companions, were speeding down the chestnut avenue, with the intent of shaping their course to Bamborough Castle, which they hoped to reach before night.
Some quarter of an hour later, Sir John Webb’s great lumbering coach took the same route.
Charles Radclyffe was left in charge of Dilston, and empowered to act as he deemed best, in his brother’s absence.
Hedgeley, the spy, was detained for some time after the prince’s departure, and then liberated.
END OF BOOK THE FIRST.
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BOOK THE SECOND
BAMBOROUGH CASTLE
I
The High Sheriff
ABOUT ten o’clock on the same day, the high sheriff, accompanied by a score of well-mounted yeomen, armed with various weapons, arrived at Dilston Castle. The gate was open, and without saying a word to the porter, he rode into the court, followed by Jesmond and a groom, leaving the yeomen on guard outside.
Charles Radclyffe, who was standing at the entrance of the mansion, came down the steps to meet him, and a formal salutation passed between them.
“You will not be surprised at my visit, Mr. Radclyffe,” said the sheriff. “I have come here in the execution of a painful duty, and desire to discharge it as lightly as I can. Be pleased to tell your brother, Lord Derwentwater, that a certain important person, whom I am aware is his guest, must be delivered up to me.”
“In reply to your demand, Sir William,” replied Charles Radclyffe, firmly, “I have to inform you that there are no guests in the castle, and that Lord Derwentwater himself is absent.”
The sheriff looked confounded, and consulted Jesmond by a glance.
The latter shook his head to intimate that the assertion ought not to be credited.
“Excuse me, Mr. Radclyffe,” said the sheriff, “I can understand that you consider yourself justified in denying that the Pretender is here. But I have proof to the contrary. This man beheld him yesterday.”
“I saw him in your company, Mr. Radclyffe,” said Jesmond. “I heard you and several others address him as your majesty.”
“What have you to say to this, sir?” said the sheriff.
“I might say that the man is mistaken, but I will not,” replied Charles. “I will content myself with stating that the person he beheld, and whom he fancied was the Chevalier de Saint George, is gone.”
“This will be vexatious, if it should turn out correct,” muttered the sheriff.
“Don’t believe it, Sir William,” cried Jesmond. “Depend upon it, we shall find him.”
“I have given you my positive assurance, which ought to be sufficient, Sir William,” said Charles Radclyffe. “But if you still entertain any doubts, pray search the house-question the servants-take any steps you think proper.”
“I intend to do so, sir,” rejoined the sheriff, dismounting, and giving his horse to the groom.
Jesmond likewise dismounted, and followed him.
On the steps the sheriff encountered Newbiggin, and some others of the servants, who corroborated Charles Radclyffe’s assertions; and in the entrance hall he found Father Norman, with whom he was acquainted, and whom he respectfully saluted.
“Your reverence knows my business,” he remarked. “Will you aid me?”
“You cannot expect me to do so, Sir William,” replied the priest. “But I will tell you frankly, that no one is concealed here.”
“Has the Pretender fled?” demanded the sheriff.
“The Pretender has never been here, Sir William.”
“This is mere equivocation, sir,” cried the sheriff. “I will not be trifled with. I will search the house from top to bottom, but I will find him. Come with me!” he added to Newbiggin.
Attended by the butler, and assisted by Jesmond, he then went up-stairs, and peered into a great many rooms, but soon gave up the fruitless search.
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