



Produced by R.G.P.M. van Giesen




THE YOUNG CAVALIER

[Frontispiece: _The next instant a pair of hands grasped the gunwale,
and the dripping head of a man appeared over the side._]

THE
YOUNG CAVALIER

A STORY OF THE CIVIL WARS

BY
PERCY F. WESTERMAN
Author of "'Midst Arctic Perils," "Clinton's Quest"
"The Nameless Island," "The Young Cavalier"
"The Treasure of the Sacred Lake," etc.

ILLUSTRATED BY GORDON BROWNE, R.I.

London
C. Arthur Pearson Ltd.
Henrietta Street

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
MORRISON AND GIBB LTD., LONDON AND EDINBURGH

  CONTENTS
  CHAPTER
      I. THE OUTBREAK OF CIVIL WAR
     II. COLONEL NICHOLAS FIRESTONE
    III. FRIEND OR FOE?
     IV. THROUGH THE REBEL LINES
      V. CONVOYING THE TREASURE
     VI. EDGEHILL
    VII. FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH
   VIII. OUR ADVENTURE IN LOSTWITHIEL CHURCH
     IX. MY MEETING WITH AN OLD FOE
	  X. ON BOARD THE "EMMA FARLEIGH"
     XI. THE "HAPPY ADVENTURE"
    XII. THE POWDER MINE
   XIII. THE SIEGE OF ASHLEY CASTLE
    XIV. SPIKING THE GUNS
     XV. THE SECRET PASSAGE
    XVI. WITHOUT THE WALLS OF CARISBROOKE
   XVII. EXILED

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

  The next instant a pair of hands grasped the gunwale, and the
    dripping head of a man appeared over the side (Frontispiece)

  "I sprang into the sea"

  Colonel Firestone flung his arms about the man's waist, and
    dragged him out of his saddle

  There was a yell of terror, and the robbers made a frantic effort
    to rein in their steeds

  Seized by the arms and legs, the terrified rogue was hurled into
    the river

  With undiminished speed the horse shot into space

  The darting rays fell on my face, and with a stifled cry of
    terror the soldier turned to flee

  Ralph Granville and the pikeman were locked in an unyielding
    embrace, and, before I could prevent the catastrophe,
    Ralph was dragged through the embrasure and disappeared

THE YOUNG CAVALIER




CHAPTER I

THE OUTBREAK OF CIVIL WAR


WELL shall I ever remember the last day of August in the year of
grace 1642. The shadow of war, and civil war to boot, lay heavily
over the length and breadth of the kingdom, and the usually peaceful
Isle of Wight was no exception to the rule.

It was owing to this fact that I, Humphrey Markham, was compelled to
remain at school during the holidays instead of spending them, as was
my wont, at my father's castle of Ashley, which lies betwixt the
borders of Hamptonshire and Sussex, hard by the town of Petersfield.

The call of duty had obliged my father to travel northward to attend
on the King's person, so that, much to my disappointment, I was
compelled to forego one of my twice-yearly visits to my home.

Yet, fortunately for me, I was not alone in my "exile," as I was
tempted to call it. My closest companion, Ralph Granville, a nephew
of the staunch Royalist, Sir Bevil Granville, of the Duchy of
Cornwall, also remained at school for similar reasons, as did a score
or more of other scholars, and, thanks to the kindness of the
dominie, we were permitted a considerable amount of freedom, the only
condition being that we should be within gates every night ere
sundown.

On that fateful day, Granville and I had left Newport early in the
morning, and had wandered far over the country towards the frowning
heights of St. Catherine's Down, and already the afternoon had far
advanced ere we gained the summit of Pan Down, a lofty ridge of chalk
that overlooks the capital of the Isle of Wight on its southern side.

Before us lay the town of Newport, the golden rays of the setting sun
falling athwart the yellow sandstone of the tower of St. Thomas'
Church, and the red-tiled roofs that clustered densely around the
dominating edifice. Beyond we could trace the narrow, thread-like
estuary of the Medina, as it carved its way between the low hills to
join the blue waters of the Solent; while, on the far side, we could
see the dim outlines of the Hamptonshire coast, separated by the
broad expanse of Southampton Water, the tree-clad masses of the New
Forest contrasting vividly with the eastern portion of the bare ridge
of Portsdown.

Away on our left rose the stern, grey outlines of Carisbrooke Castle,
the Royal banner hanging limply in the still air from the flagstaff
on the summit of the keep.

"Dost think these rebellious knaves will fight?" asked Ralph.

"Fight? Nay," I replied. "A slight bickering here and there, and all
signs of defiance to His Majesty will be stamped out with a heavy
hand."

"I don't know about that. Some of the adherents of the Parliament
seem to be made of stern stuff. For my part, I think there will be
fighting, and much of it."

"And what of it? The King has but to raise his hand, and loyal
gentlemen from all parts of the kingdom will flock to his banner,
even as my father has already done."

"What will you do if war breaks out?"

"Do? Why, make my way over to Hamptonshire find out where my father
is, and join him."

"But, Humphrey, you are only fifteen! What can a lad of fifteen do?"

"A lot when he makes up his mind," I replied, stoutly. "Besides, I am
as tall and as strong as many a lad of nineteen."

"Be that as it may, we must look to the present," rejoined Granville.
"'Tis nearly sunset, and, if we want to ramble afield to-morrow, it
behoves us to hurry back to-night, for the dominie will surely forbid
us leave if we are late in returning. Ah! What's that?"

We were already stepping briskly down the grassy <DW72>, when a dull
booming reached our ears. Instinctively we paused, and, looking in
the direction of the sound, which continued without intermission, we
saw a thick, white cloud of smoke rising in the direction of
Portsmouth.

"A salute!" exclaimed Granville.

"A salute, forsooth!" I replied, contemptuously. "'Tis an irregular
discharge of ordnance. Mark my word, they have come to hand-grips!
But 'tis no good purpose to tarry here; possibly, in the town we'll
hear tidings."

So saying, we resumed our rapid pace, and, gaining the level road at
the foot of the down, we made for Shide, which lay betwixt us and
Newport.

Hardly had we reached the outskirts of the little village, when the
noise of an approaching cavalcade caused us to stop and look behind
us.

Riding furiously, with loose rein, came a score or so of horsemen,
richly dressed, and armed with swords and pistols, their curls
floating behind them in disorder.

Next came a lumbering chariot, drawn by six horses with outriders,
and within it we had a momentary glimpse of a lady, stern-faced, yet
handsome withal.

The carriage was immediately followed by a number of bronzed and
bearded soldiers, accoutred with breastplates, steel helmets, leather
breeches, and jack boots, each man carrying a musquetoon on his hip,
a pair of pistols in his holsters, and a stout broadsword hanging
from a cross-belt of buff leather, which was counterbalanced by a
fully charged bandolier.

We had barely time to flatten ourselves against the chalk bank at the
side of the road before the troop had passed us, leaving a thick
cloud of white dust, which hung motionless in the still air for
several minutes after they had disappeared along the road leading to
the castle of Carisbrooke.

Wondering what might be the meaning of this swiftly moving cavalcade,
we resumed our steps towards the town of Newport; but hardly had we
come within sight of the market-place when we perceived, by the great
concourse of townsfolk present, that something untoward was taking
place.

At this all thoughts of gaining the school gates before sunset
vanished out of our heads, and, by dint of pushing and edging between
the tightly packed masses of people, we succeeded in working our way
to the forefront of the crowd.

Standing on a flight of stone steps outside a half-timbered house was
a tall, lean, ill-conditioned man, dressed in a sombre garb of
russet, set off only by a plain white linen collar and a buff
sword-belt, while his thin, pale face, disfigured by a wide,
thin-lipped mouth, long nose, and small black ferrety eyes, was
surmounted by a steeple-crowned hat, which, resting on a pair of
huge, projecting ears, almost concealed his close-cropped hair.

"'Tis the mayor," whispered Ralph. "Hark! He talks rank sedition."

"And will ye, my friends," exclaimed this worthy magistrate in a
thin, piping voice, "allow this man, Charles, to ride rough-shod over
your heads? Or will ye join with the people of England in putting
down this sink of iniquity in our midst? What of our ancient rights
and privileges--have they not been trodden in the dust and our
birthright sold by this son of Belial for a mess of pottage? Up! up!
I say, and join in the undoing of the tyrant. Where is this man
Charles? He hath fled--fled from the City of London, and no man
knoweth whither! News hath arrived that the trainbands have sided
with the Parliament, the seaports have declared for liberty and
freedom, and even now George Goring holds Portsmouth against the----"

"Nay, Master Mayor," shouted a bull-lunged spectator. "Therein thou
art wrong. Goring hath declared for His Majesty King Charles, whom
God preserve; and even now thy foul rabble yap round the gates of
that town, afraid to venture therein!"

Cheers and groans greeted this announcement, and for the moment the
traitorous mayor was taken aback.

"How know you that this be true, Master Rich?" he asked suspiciously.

"Considering I came hither but this morning, I am well prepared to
abide by what I have said," replied the interrupter boldly. "And I
tell thee, Mr. Mayor, what thou hast said shall be duly recorded
against thee, and within a week thy head will grace the tower of St.
Thomas."

Upon this there was a considerable tumult, some siding with the
Royalist, though the majority upheld the mayor, till above the noise
came a hoarse, authoritative voice shouting:

"Way! Way! I ride on affairs of State!"

The crowd gave way right and left, and, urging a restive horse
through the press, a mail-clad man rode towards the spot where the
mayor stood.

The new-comer was a heavy, thick-set man, with a bronzed face,
pointed beard, and an upturned moustache, while his iron-grey hair
was cut close to his massive head.

He was bareheaded, his steel cap hanging from his saddle-bow, and his
buff-coat and breast-plate were flecked with dust, while his steaming
and foam-covered steed showed that he had not spared the spur.

"The chief magistrate of the town of Newport?" he demanded curtly.

"I am he, worthy sir," replied the mayor, all bravado having, for the
moment, left him.

Without speaking, the messenger put on his steel cap, drew his sword,
and saluted the startled mayor; then, returning the weapon to its
scabbard with military smartness, he handed him a sealed packet.

Tearing the seals, the mayor read the contents of the letter in
silence, and then looked at the messenger as if undecided as to his
reply.

"Read! Read it aloud!" shouted the crowd, and, his courage slowly
returning, the mayor raised his hand for silence, and then began to
deliver the message in an almost inaudible voice.

"Louder! Louder!" was the cry and the chief magistrate handed the
letter to the clerk, who stood at his elbow.

"'His Majesty, having raised his standard at Nottingham, doth hereby
confer upon me authority to take active measures against rebels now
assembled within the Isle of Wight, that lieth within my
jurisdiction. I hereby order and request all loyal and liege subjects
of His Majesty to repair to the castle of Carisbrooke. His Majesty
hath desired it to be known that, should the emergency and the great
necessity to which he is driven beget any violation of law, he hopes
it shall be imputed to the authors of this war, and not to him, who
hath so earnestly laboured to preserve the peace of the kingdom.
--Signed, Portland, Governor of the Wight.'"

A confused babel of cheers, shouts, and groans greeted the governor's
message, and the mayor, noting that hostile demonstrations held the
uppermost hand, spoke up:

"You see, my friends, the perjurers of our liberty would have the
blame placed upon the Commons and the people of England. This is an
infamous lie."

Then, turning to the messenger:

"Tell His Grace of Portland that the townsfolk of Newport are
prepared to repair to Carisbrooke--but to wrest the castle from the
hands of the malignants."

"Crop-eared hound!" exclaimed the messenger, whipping out his sword.
"Had I not been enjoined to deliver the message to the mayors of
Newtown and Yarmouth ere midnight, I would right willingly give my
life's blood to hew that head from off thy shoulders," and, drawing
his horse almost on its haunches, the Royalist wheeled, and rode
defiantly through the crowd, with head erect and drawn sword, none
offering to bar his passage.

"Up, and smite the sons of Belial!" was the cry, and the more
timorous of the townsfolk began to make for their homes.

"Yea, up and smite them, hip and thigh!" exclaimed the mayor. "News
has this moment reached my ears that the wife of this malignant, the
Earl of Portland, has taken refuge in Carisbrooke Castle, and has
vowed to hold it against the Parliament and the people of England.
Repair to your homes, arm yourselves, and assemble in the
market-place within an hour, and I'll warrant that before to-morrow's
sun hath set the castle will be in our hands."

Rapidly the crowd dispersed, and once more the thought of returning
to school crossed our minds. It was now quite dark.

"Ralph," I exclaimed resolutely, "I've made up my mind. I'm not going
back to school."

"Not?"

"No, I'm going to offer my services to the King. I can use a musket,
push a pike, or wield a sword as well as a good many men."

"Then I'm with you," replied Granville. "But where shall we go?"

"Ah, where?" I replied, for that question had not occurred to me.
"Either to the castle, or else make for home; I know my father would
place no obstacles in my way."

"The castle gates may be already closed," objected Ralph. "And, on the
other hand, how are we to get across to the mainland? How much money
have you?"

"Two shillings," I exclaimed ruefully.

"And I have but a crown--hardly enough to pay for a boat to take us
over! Never mind, we'll decide which course to take, and lay our
plans accordingly. A spin of the coin will decide--heads,
Carisbrooke; tails, Ashley."

The coin flashed dully, and, peering at in the darkness, we found
that His Majesty's effigy had fallen head downwards. "Home it is,
Ralph!" I exclaimed. "Then how do you propose to journey there?"

"Thus, I mean to take a boat from the quay. Didst notice that
evil-looking villain close to your elbow, who did continually applaud
that arrant traitor, the mayor?"

"Ay, 'twas Cripps, the boatman."

"The same; though I wot not that you knew him. As he sides with the
enemy, for such they be now, since the King has raised his