Once more he ascended the church-tower to see how matters stood.
On looking towards Alport Lodge, he could easily perceive that preparations for a general assault were being actively made. For the moment the artillerymen at the battery had ceased firing, but it was evident they would recommence very shortly.
In Salford it was the same thing. There the besiegers were preparing for a fresh attack. Having obtained possession of a couple of houses at the foot of the bridge that afforded them shelter, they could cover the advance of the assailing party.
At length the designs of the Earl of Derby became manifest. Determined not to be baffled, he sent off a party of men under the command of Captain Windebank to set fire to two large barns standing at no great distance from the walls.
At the same time another party was despatched to set fire to eight or ten houses at the end of Deansgate. This was done in spite of the efforts of the besieged to prevent it, and the houses soon burst into flames. As the wind was blowing at the time from the south-west, the flames and smoke were driven upon Bradshaw and his men, and almost blinded them. Moreover, it was feared that the conflagration would extend to the town, and such would undoubtedly have been the case, had not the wind suddenly changed—a circumstance not unnaturally regarded as a special providence.
While the fire was raging, a large party of Royalists, under the command of Sir Gilbert Gerard, made another attempt to enter the town, but were baffled by the bravery of Captain Bradshaw and his men, supported by a band of musketeers sent to their assistance by Rosworm. After a sharp encounter the Royalists were driven back with considerable loss.
No further attack was made at the time on the barrier and walls, but the besiegers having possessed themselves of a house at the foot of the bridge, as previously stated, kept up a constant fire throughout the night.
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XII
Captain Cranage
IN the conflict at the barrier in Deansgate, Frank Standish, who accompanied Sir Gilbert Gerard, had his horse shot under him, and while on the ground received a thrust from a pike in the arm, that prevented him from using his sword, and he was therefore obliged to surrender.
Taken to the college, where his wound was dressed, he was still in the surgeon’s hands, when Rosworm came into the room with some other prisoners, and recognising him, asked if he was badly hurt.
“Not much,” replied the young man.
“You look very faint,” said the engineer. “My house is close by; go there and get a cup of wine. My daughter will attend to you. I shall return shortly. I will be answerable for him,” he added to the guard.
This was enough. As soon as the surgeon had finished his task, Standish was allowed to depart, and at once repaired to Rosworm’s dwelling.
He found Gertrude in the houseplace, examining a musket, which she had been cleaning. She seemed greatly surprised to see him.
He told her he was a prisoner and wounded, and added that her father had sent him to the house to be cared for.
“In that case you are welcome,” she said. “Sit down, I pray you.”
He gladly complied, and opening a cupboard, she filled a drinking-cup with wine and set it before him.
“You have been unlucky,” she remarked, as he emptied the cup. “Your lord has not found it so easy to take the town as he expected.”
“No,” he replied. “The inhabitants may thank your father for the defence they have been able to make. Had he not been here to aid the rebels, Lord Derby would now be master of the town. But I see you have just laid down a musket. Have you used it?”
“Not yet,” she replied. “My father will not allow me to go forth, or I should have done.”
“He is quite right,” said Standish. “You are better at home.”
“I do not think so,” she rejoined. “I cannot hear the thunder of the cannon or the rattle of musketry without longing to mix in the fray. Where were you wounded?”