“No fear of that!” cried the earl, again straining her to his breast. “Farewell! farewell!”
He then tore himself away, but when he reached the door of the chapel, he turned to take a last look at her.
She was again kneeling at the altar, and did not see him.
Meanwhile, the yeomen had been taken to the butler’s pantry, where they lost no time in discussing the plentiful repast prepared for them, and having washed down the viands with some jugs of strong ale, re-mounted their horses.
Refreshments and wine were likewise served in the entrance-hall, of which the Jacobite gentlemen partook.
Before going forth each drank the king’s health in a large goblet of claret, and each drew his sword and devoted it to the king’s service.
Soon after this the court was empty, and the various horsemen, who had lately filled it, were seen speeding along the chestnut avenue, with the Earl of Derwentwater at their head, mounted on his dapple-grey steed.
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IX
Mad Jack Hall of Otterburn
HALTING at Corbridge, the earl and his companions drew their swords, and proclaimed James the Third.
Here half a dozen gentlemen joined them, and they obtained some further recruits as they went on.
One of the chief partisans of the Stuarts in the county was Mr. Hall, of Otterburn, in Redesdale. A man of ancient family and considerable property, but of eccentric character and ungovernable temper, he was known by the name of “Mad Jack Hall of Otterburn.”
Under ordinary circumstances it was difficult to get on with a person so quarrelsome, and he was therefore left out of many Jacobite meetings; but it being now necessary that every friend of the cause should be mustered, Squire Hall was far too important to be omitted. Lord Derwentwater had therefore resolved to visit Otterburn, and see what could be done with the crazy laird. He mentioned his design to Colonel Oxburgh and the others, who entirely approved of it.
About four o’clock in the afternoon, after riding for the most part across the country, they entered a wild district, erstwhile the scene of many a Border foray; and after tracking it for some miles reached the picturesque village of Otterburn, where the famous battle was fought.
Before them rose the still proud pile that had so stoutly resisted the attack of the Scots. Through the valley flowed the now clear Otter, once been dyed red with blood, while its banks were covered with slain.
The approach of the party had evidently been observed, for as they drew near the castle, a tall man sallied forth from the gateway, and greeted them with a loud shout.
Lord Derwentwater and those with him at once recognised the Laird of Otterburn, and were glad to find him at home.
In age, Squire Hall might be forty-five-perhaps not quite so much-but his deep red complexion seemed to indicate that he drank hard, and his countenance had certainly a wild expression. But his deportment was quite that of a gentleman. He wore a green riding-dress laced with silver, a black riding-wig, and a small three-cornered hat, likewise bound with silver lace, and had a sword by his side.
That he understood what had brought the party to Otterburn was clear, as also, that he was quite ready to join them, for he took off his hat, and shouted at the top of a stentorian voice, “Long live King James!”
The shout was repeated by the new-comers, and so lustily that all the villagers rushed to their doors.
After cordially greeting Lord Derwentwater and those with him, all of whom were friends, the squire led the whole party into the court-yard of the castle, and then told them they must not think of leaving him till the morrow.
“Don’t imagine you will incommode me,” he said. “There is plenty of room in the old castle. To-day we will drink the king’s health. To-morrow we will muster our forces, and prepare to fight his enemies. Forster, I hear, is at Rothbury, and if I hadn’t joined your lordship, I should have joined him.”
Very well satisfied with their hearty reception, the earl and his friends with the whole troop dismounted, and were shortly afterwards installed in various parts of the castle.
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