On hearing this the countess immediately went forth, accompanied by her daughters, by her chaplains, and by Don Fortunio and Engracia.
At the entrance of the mansion stood all her officers ready to attend her. The court-yard was thronged with the soldiers of the garrison, who had hastily assembled to witness a scene of the deepest interest to them. In front of the musketeers were the dragoons who had just arrived. The latter were still on horseback, and each man in the foremost line carried a flag.
Standish had dismounted, and was stationed a few yards in advance of the troop.
Greatly touched by this spectacle, the countess marched on till she came within a short distance of the dragoons, and then stood still, while Standish with his drawn sword in his hand, advanced to meet her and made a profound obeisance.
Speaking in a loud voice that all might hear, he said:
“It will rejoice you to learn, madam, and it will rejoice your brave soldiers to hear, that Bolton has been taken after a sharp conflict, and all the garrison put to the sword. A great victory has thus been gained over the rebels, and a blow dealt them from which they will not speedily recover.”
Here he was interrupted for a few moments by the shouts of the soldiers, after which he went on.
“My lord, though first to enter the gate, and exposed to the sharpest fire, is happily unhurt, and charges me to inform your ladyship that he will return to Lathom to-morrow, and bring his highness Prince Rupert with him.”
“They will be right welcome to us all,” said the countess.
Loud shouts again resounded. But Standish had not yet finished.
“I am commanded by Prince Rupert,” he said, “to present to your ladyship these colours, which have just been taken from the enemy.”
Meanwhile all the flags having been collected by a couple of dragoons, who had dismounted for the purpose, were laid at the countess’s feet.
Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes blazed as she regarded them.
“At last these colours are ours,” she cried, taking one from the heap, and waving it triumphantly to the shouting soldiers.
There was great rejoicing that night in Lathom House, and the countess promised the soldiers that their cups should again be filled with ale on the morrow.
Standish had little private converse with Engracia, but he thought she looked sad. He fancied the captivity at Bolton had made a painful impression on her, and told her so; but she said he was mistaken.
“These occurrences have troubled my father more than me,” she said. “He is resolved to return to Spain immediately.”
“And take you with him?”
“Of course. He cannot leave me behind. I fear we shall be obliged to part, unless you will come with us to Spain.”
“I have already told you I cannot forsake my own country at this juncture,” he rejoined. “I must go where my lord leads me. He has more towns to assault—more battles to fight.”
“Then you will certainly be killed. Now in Spain you might live tranquilly.”
“I will go there when this campaign is ended.”
“But will it end? Never! My father is quite tired out, and to speak truth so am I. I shall grieve to quit the countess and her daughters, who have been so kind to me—but I must go.”
“Perhaps you may change your mind.”
“I do not think I shall—but even if I did, my father won’t stay. He intends to go to Liverpool.”
“But Liverpool is in the hands of the rebels.”
“Then he will go elsewhere, and try to find a vessel bound for Spain. He means to consult the Earl of Derby on the subject.”
“At first I thought you were jesting with me,” said Standish. “But I begin to fear you are quite serious.”
“My father is, and therefore I must obey.”
“But you can persuade him to remain, if you choose.”
“No—he won’t listen to me. Colonel Rosworm has alarmed him, by telling him the king is certain to be defeated, and he is all anxiety to be gone.”
At this juncture, Don Fortunio himself came up.