Part 2 (2/2)

”Let us fight too!” exclaimed Lancelot, and we made our way on to the trenches, where not only the soldiers, the volunteers, and the townsmen were fighting, but women, with muskets in their hands, were firing away, encouraging their companions with shouts and cheers. Lancelot had got hold of a musket belonging to one of the garrison who had fallen, and had taken his powder-horn and shot-belt. d.i.c.k and I, after hunting about, succeeded in finding a couple of horse-pistols, but scarcely had we fired them than the din in front of us ceased, though the report of firearms to the right and left of us still continued. We could hear the tramp of men and the cries and groans of the wounded in front, but the uproar towards the market-place was quelled. No shots were heard, no clas.h.i.+ng of swords, no shouts and shrieks.

”The enemy have retreated! The Malignants are flying!” was the cry pa.s.sed along the lines.

Still, we could scarcely believe it possible. But an hour had pa.s.sed since the attack had commenced, and our little garrison had driven back once more the well-equipped troops of Prince Maurice.

The storm raged fiercely during the night, and many fearing that another attack might be made, the greater portion of the garrison remained under arms, ready for any emergency.

Not until morning was the full extent of the Cavaliers' loss discovered.

Within the lines well-nigh four hundred men lay stark and stiff where they had fallen, struck down by the fire from the houses and the fierce onslaught in front and rear, few prisoners having been taken.

Outside the trenches a hundred more strewed the ground, among them many officers of distinction, including Colonel Blewett, a gallant gentleman, greatly esteemed by Maurice. We knew this, because early in the morning the Prince sent a herald to request that he might be restored if a prisoner, or that his body might be given up if dead.

A prisoner he was not, for every officer who had come inside the lines had been slain. The Colonel answered that the body should be restored if found, provided our people were not injured while searching for it and burying the dead. Before long the body of the Cavalier was discovered where he had fallen, at the entrance of the town, leading on his men. It was placed with all decency in a coffin, and Colonel Blake sent word that it was ready to be delivered up, and that he hoped, in return, his friend Mr Harvey would be set at liberty.

The Prince, to the indignation of the garrison, replied that they might keep the body, and refused to give up Mr Harvey. The coffin was, notwithstanding, carried to the lines opposite Holme Bush, when a signal was made to the heralds to come for it. Colonel Blake stood by to receive them.

”Have you any orders to pay for the shroud and coffin?” he asked.

”We have received none,” was the answer.

”Take them, notwithstanding,” answered the Colonel, curling his whiskers, as was his wont when angered. ”We are not so poor but that we can afford to give them to you.”

The body was taken up by the men sent to fetch it, and slowly they wended their way back to the camp. An officer approached while the flag of truce was flying. He was one with whom Colonel Blake was acquainted.

”Here, friend,” he said, ”you see the weakness of our works. We trust not to them. Tell Prince Maurice that should he desire to come in, we will pull down a dozen yards, so that he may enter with ten men abreast, and we will give him battle.”

”Not so,” answered the Royalist, stung by the reproach to the military prowess of his party. ”We will take our own time, but will come ere long.”

The Colonel replied by a scornful laugh.

All that day we enjoyed unusual quiet, for the Royalists had not the heart again to attack us, though we were well aware they would do so should occasion favour them.

Day after day and week after week went by, still our garrison held out.

Our provisions were running short, as was our ammunition, and should that fail us--notwithstanding all the heroic efforts which had been made--we should be compelled to yield.

My friend d.i.c.k was still very anxious about his father.

”I have an idea!” exclaimed Lancelot. ”You, d.i.c.k, are like your sister Mildred. Probably the Prince is not aware she is not in the town. What say you to dressing up in her clothes, and taking Ben with you? he can pretend to be your brother. He looks so young, no one would think of injuring him more than they would you, supposing you to be a girl. You can steal out at night; go boldly to the Prince, and say you wish to see your father. He will scarcely refuse you. You can then tell Mr Harvey your plan, and he is a man of wealth; the chances are he'll find the means of bribing his guards. I meantime will sail along the sh.o.r.e, and landing, arrange as I proposed about a horse, which I will have ready at the foot of Charmouth Rise.”

We kept our plan secret. I had some doubt whether I was acting rightly, but I trusted that my father would not blame me. Audrey and Cicely were delighted, and soon rigged up d.i.c.k, so that the keenest eye would not have discovered that he was a boy.

That very night Lancelot, accompanied by Tom Noakes, who had charge of his boat, put out of the harbour, and favoured by a light breeze, stood along the sh.o.r.e. We slipped out and crept along past the sentries, making our way to the east of Colway Hill. Every moment we expected to be discovered, but a thick fog favoured our design, and we got away, creeping along hedges and under banks, until we were clear outside the enemy's entrenchments as well as our own.

Proceeding northward, we reached a wide-spreading tree on the top of a high bank, where we sat down to rest and consult as to our future course. The moon rising and the fog blowing off, we saw spread out before us the white tents of the Cavalier army, covering a wide extent of ground. We agreed that it would be wise to wait until daylight, lest, approaching the camp, we might be shot by the sentries. d.i.c.k produced some food which he had brought in his pocket. We ate it with good appet.i.tes. We then stretched ourselves on the sward, not supposing that we should go to sleep, but in spite of our anxiety we dropped off.

When we awoke it was broad daylight.

It was fortunate we were not discovered, for d.i.c.k's dress looked so draggled and dirty that no one would have taken him for a young lady. I set to work to brush and clean him, and make him more presentable. We had resolved to walk boldly on unless challenged, until we could reach the Prince's tent, when d.i.c.k would ask leave as if his request was sure to be granted to see his father as though on family matters. If refused, we would wait about the camp until we could find an opportunity of gaining our object. We came sooner than we expected on a sentry, who at once challenged us.

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