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 or ILLINOIS 
 
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 ARRAH NEIL; 
 
 TIMES OF OLD, 
 
 By G. p. R. JAMES, Esq. 
 
 AUTHOR OF " RICHELIEtJ," " DARNLET," " THE SMUGGLER, 
 ETC. ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO. f>5, CORNHILL. 
 
 MDCCCXLV.
 
 London : 
 
 Printed by Stewart and Murray, 
 
 Old Bailey.
 
 
 AERAH NEIL ; OE, TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 About two centuries ago, in times with which 
 
 we are all familiar, as they comprised a period 
 
 of English history, the events of whicli have 
 
 affected the social condition of the British 
 
 people more than almost any which have 
 
 preceded or followed that period — about two 
 
 x; centuries ago, there stood upon the slope of a 
 
 ^ gentle hill, in a j^icturesque part of England, 
 
 ^an old brick mansion of considerable extent, 
 
 ^rand of a venerable though flourishing exterior. 
 
 v'v On the right hand and on the left there was a 
 
 ^ood of various trees, amidst which Evelyn 
 
 '^ VOL. I. B 
 
 4.
 
 Z ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 might have delighted to roam, choice children 
 of the British forest, mingled with many a 
 stranger grown familiar with the land, though 
 not lono' denizened in it. In front was a 
 
 terrace flanked with quaintly-carved flower- 
 
 • 
 
 pots of stone ; and beyond that stretched a 
 lawn several roods in extent, leaving the 
 mansion fully exposed to the eye of every 
 one who wandered through the valley below. 
 Beyond the lawn, again, a wide view was 
 obtained over a pleasant scene of hill and dale, 
 with the top of a village church and its high 
 tower peeping over the edge of the first earth- 
 wave ; and far off", faint and grey, were seen 
 the lines of a distant city, apparently of con- 
 siderable extent. The house itself had nothing 
 very remarkable in its appearance, and yet 
 circumstances compel us to give some account 
 of it, although it is but building up to pull 
 down, as the reader will soon perceive. The 
 middle part consisted of a large square mass 
 of brick -work, rising somewhat higher, and
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 3 
 
 projecting somewhat farther, than the rest of 
 the building. It had in the centre a large 
 hall-door with a flight of stone steps, and on 
 each side of the entrance were three windows 
 in chiselled frames of stone. On either side 
 of this centre was a wing flanked with a small 
 square tower, and in each wing and each 
 tower was a small door opening upon the 
 terrace. Manifold lattices, too, with narrow 
 panes set in lead, ornamented these inferior 
 parts of the building in long straight rows, 
 and chimneys, nearly as numerous, towered up 
 from the tall peaked roofs, not quite in keep- 
 ing with the trim regularity of the other parts 
 of the edifice. The whole, however, had a 
 pleasant and yet imposing effect when seen 
 from a distance ; and to any one who looked 
 near, there was an air of comfort and cheer- 
 fulness about the mansion which well compen- 
 sated for the want of grace. The view, too, 
 from the terrace and the windows was in itself 
 
 a continual source of calm and high-toned 
 B 2
 
 t ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 pleasure to the minds that dwelt within, for 
 they were those that could appreciate all that 
 is lovely, more especially in the works of God ; 
 and over the wide scene came a thousand 
 varying aspects, as the clouds and sunshine 
 chased each other along, like the poetical 
 dreams of a bright and varying imagination. 
 Morning and sunset, too, and moonlight and 
 mid-day, each yrrought a change in the pros- 
 pect, and brought out something new and fair 
 on which the eye rested with delight. 
 
 It was evening ; the lower limb of the large 
 round sun rested on a dark line of trees which 
 filled up one of the slopes of the ground 
 about six miles off; and above the bright and 
 glowing disc which seemed to float in a sea of 
 its own glory, Y\^ere stretched a few small dark 
 clouds, edged with gold, which hung over the 
 descending star like a veil thrown back to 
 afford one last look of the bright orb of day, 
 before the reign of night began. Higher still 
 the sky was blushing like a bride ; and woods
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 and fields, and distant spires and hills, all 
 seemed penetrated with the purple splendour 
 of the hour. Toothing could be fairer or more 
 peaceful than the whole scene, and it was 
 scarcely possible to suppose that the violent 
 passions of man could remain untamed and 
 unchastened by the aspect of so much bright 
 tranquillity. 
 
 Winding along at the foot of the hill, and 
 marking the commencement of what might be 
 called the plain — though, to say the truth, the 
 wide space to which we must give that name 
 was broken by innumerable undulations — 
 appeared a hard but sandy road, from which a 
 carriage-way led by a circuit up to the man- 
 sion. In some places high banks, covered 
 with shrubs and bushes, overhung the course 
 of the road, though in others it passed un- 
 sheltered over the soft, short grass of the 
 hill ; but just at the angle where the two 
 paths separated the ground rose almost to 
 a cliff, and at the bottom was a spring of
 
 6 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 very clear water gathered into a little stone 
 basin. 
 
 !By the side of the fountain, at the time we 
 speak of, sat a figure which harmonized well 
 with the landscape. It was that of a young 
 girl, not yet apparently sixteen years of age. 
 Her garb appeared to be that of poverty, her 
 head uncovered by any thing but rich and 
 waving locks of warm brown hair, her face 
 and neck tanned with the sun, her feet bare, 
 as well as her hands and her arms above the 
 elbows, and her apparel scanty, and in some 
 places torn, though scrupulously clean. She 
 seemed, in short, a beggar, and many a one 
 would have passed her by as such without 
 notice ; but those who looked nearer saw that 
 her features were very beautiful, her teeth of 
 a dazzling whiteness, her limbs rounded and 
 well formed, and her blue eyes under their 
 long jetty eyelashes as bright, yet soft, as ever 
 beamed on mortal man. Yet there was some- 
 thing wanting in her face, an indefinable some-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 7 
 
 tiling, not exactly intellect, for there was often 
 a keen and flasliing light spread over the 
 whole countenance. Neither was it expres- 
 sion, for of that there was a great deal. 
 Neither was it steadiness, for there frequently 
 came a look of deep thought, painfully deep, 
 intense, abstracted, unsatisfied, as if the mind 
 sought something within itself that it could 
 not discover. What it was, it is difficult, nay 
 impossible to say. Yet there was something 
 wanting, and all those who looked upon her 
 felt that it was so. 
 
 She sat by that little fountain for a long 
 time, sometimes gazing into the water as if 
 her heart was at the bottom of the brook ; 
 sometimes, suddenly looking up, with her 
 head bent on one side, and her ear inclined, 
 listening to the notes of a lark that rose high 
 in air from the neighbouring fields and trilled 
 the joy-inspired hymn under the glowing sky ; 
 and as she did so, a smile, sweet, and bland, 
 and happy, came upon her lip, as if to her
 
 8 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 the song of the lark spoke hope and comfort 
 from a higher source than any of the earth. 
 
 While she was thus sitting, more than one 
 horseman passed along the road, but the poor 
 girl gave them only a casual glance and then 
 resumed her meditations. One or two vil- 
 lagers, k)0, on foot, walked on their way, some 
 of them giving her a nod, to which she 
 answered nothing. A thin and gloomy look- 
 ing personage, too, with a tall hat and black 
 coat and doublet, rode down from the mansion, 
 followed by two men of somewhat less staid 
 and abstinent appearance, and as he passed 
 by he first gazed on her with not the most 
 holy smile, but the moment after gave her a 
 sour look, and muttered something about the 
 stocks. The girl paid him no attention, how- 
 ever, and he was likewise soon out of sight. 
 
 At length a horse trotting briskly was heard 
 coming along the high road ; and a moment 
 after, a gay cavalier, well mounted and armed, 
 with feather in his hat and gold upon his
 
 TIMES OF OLD. ^ 
 
 doublet, long curling locks hanging on his 
 shoulders and heavy gilt spurs buckled over 
 his boots, appeared at the angle of the bank. 
 There he pulled up, however, as if doubtful 
 which path to take, and seeing the girl he ex- 
 claimed in aloud but not unkindly tone, "Which 
 is the way to Bishop's Merton, sweetheart?" 
 
 The girl rose and dropped him a graceful 
 courtesy ; but for her only reply, she smiled. 
 
 "Which is the way to Bishop's Merton, 
 pretty maid ?" the stranger repeated, bringing 
 his horse closer to her. 
 
 " The village is out there," replied the girl, 
 pointing with her hand along the road ; " the 
 house is up there," she added, turning towards 
 the mansion on the hill ; and then she imme- 
 diately seated herself again with a deep sigh, 
 and began once more to gaze into the fountain. 
 
 The stranger wheeled his horse as if to ride 
 up to the house, but then paused, and spring- 
 ing to the ground, he turned to the girl once 
 more, asking, "What is the matter with you.
 
 10 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 my poor girl ? Has any one injured you ? — 
 Is there anything ails you? What makes you 
 so sad?" 
 
 She looked in his face for a moment, with a 
 countenance totally void of expression, and 
 then gazing down into the water again, she 
 resumed her meditations without making any 
 reply. 
 
 " She must be a fool," the stranger said, 
 speaking to himself. " All the better for her, 
 poor girl ; I wish I were a fool too. One 
 would escape half the sorrows of this life if we 
 did not understand them, and half the sins, too, 
 if we did not know what we were about. 
 What a happy thing it must be to be a rich 
 fool ; but she is a poor one, that is clear, and 
 the case is not so fortunate. Here, sweetheart, 
 there 's a crown for thee. Good faith ! I am 
 likely, ere long, to thank any man for one 
 myself, so it matters not how soon the few I 
 have are gone." 
 
 The girl took the money readily, and dropped
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 11 
 
 the giver a low courtesy, saying, " Thank your 
 worship — God bless you, sir !" 
 
 " He had need, my pretty maid," replied the 
 stranger, " for never man wanted a blessing 
 more than I do, or has been longer without 
 one." And thus speaking, he sprang upon his 
 horse's back again, and rode up towards the 
 house. 
 
 When he was gone, she to whom he had 
 spoken continued standing where he had left 
 her, meditating sadly, as it seemed, for several 
 minutes ; and at length she said in a low tone, 
 " Alas ! he does not come — he does not come. 
 Perhaps he will never come again — oh, how I 
 wish he would stay away !" 
 
 The whole speech was as contradictory as a 
 speech could be, especially when the look and 
 manner were taken as part and parcel thereof. 
 But there was nothing extraordinary in the 
 fact ; for man is a mass of contradictions, and 
 there is scarce one enjoyment that does not 
 partake of pain — one apprehension that is not
 
 » 
 
 12 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 mingled with a hope — one hope that is not 
 chequered by a fear. Antagonist principles 
 are ever ^yarring within us, and many of the 
 greatest contests result in a drawn battle. If, 
 however, the girl's first words and the last had 
 been evidently in opposition to each other, 
 the wish with which she concluded was in- 
 stantly belied by the glow upon her cheek, 
 and the light in her eye, when she once more 
 heard the sound of a horse's feet comins: 
 from the direction of the little town of Bishop's 
 Merton. 
 
 " It is he !" she cried, with a smile, " It is 
 he ! I know the pace, I know the pace !" and 
 running into the middle of the road, she gazed 
 down it, while a horseman, followed by three 
 servants, came on at a rapid rate, with a loose 
 rein and an easy seat. He was a young man 
 of seven or eight and twenty, with long fair 
 hair, and jDointed beard, tall and well made, 
 though somewhat slight in form, with a grave 
 and even stern cast of features, but a broad
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 13 
 
 high forehead, clear but well-marked brows, 
 and lips full but not large. His face, as I 
 have said, was grave, and seemed, as he rode 
 forward, unsusceptible of any but a cold, 
 thoughtful expression, till suddenly his eyes 
 lighted on the poor girl who was watching 
 him, when a bright and beaming smile broke 
 over his whole countenance, and a complete 
 change took place, like that which spreads 
 over a fine country when the storm gives place 
 to sunshine. 
 
 "Ah, Arrah Neil!" he cried, "my poor 
 Arrah Neil, is that you come back? Where 
 is your grandfather, poor child, have they set 
 him free ?" And he, too, sprang from his 
 horse, taking the girl's hand with a look of 
 tender compassion. 
 
 " No, he is not free," replied Arrah Neil ; 
 "he never vv^ill be free." 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered the gentleman ; " these 
 things cannot last for ever, Arrah. Time will 
 bring about changes, I doubt not, which will
 
 14 
 
 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 deliver hiai from whatever prison they have 
 taken him to." 
 
 " Not from that prison," answered the girl, 
 with tears rising in her eyes ; " it is a low and 
 narrow prison, Lord Walton. I told them he 
 would die when they took him ; and he only 
 reached Devizes. But they are happy who 
 sleep — they are happy who sleep ;" and sitting 
 down by the side of the well, she fell into 
 thought again. 
 
 The stranger stood and gazed at her for a 
 moment, without uttering a word. There are 
 times when silence is more eloquent of sym- 
 pathy than the choicest words of condolence. 
 One of the servants, however, who had ridden 
 up, and was holding his lord's horse, burst 
 forth with an oath — " The roundhead rascals ! 
 I wish I had my sword in their stomachs ! 
 The good old man was worth a score of them." 
 
 '* Hush !" said his master sternly ; " hush ! 
 no such words in my hearing, Langan !" 
 
 " Then faith, my lord, I must speak them
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 15 
 
 behind your back," murmured the man ; but 
 his master had taken a step forward, and was 
 bending down his head to speak to the poor 
 girl. " Come up to the house, Arrah," he 
 said ; " you must not stay here alone, nor go 
 back to the cottage either. Come up to the 
 house, and my sister will comfort and be kind 
 to you." 
 
 The girl gazed in his face for a moment, and 
 then suddenly starting up, as if some remem- 
 brance flashed across her mind, she exclaimed, 
 " No, no ! do not go home, sir ! Do not go 
 there ! Misfortune will happen to you if you 
 go there — I am sure it will — I am quite sure 
 it will." 
 
 " But why, Arrah ?" asked her companion, 
 with an incredulous smile ; " what makes you 
 think that there is any danger? Have you 
 seen any of the parliament people there ?" 
 
 " There was Dry, of Longsoaken," replied 
 Arrah Neil ; " but he came down again ; and 
 it is not that. But I must not say what it is.
 
 16 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 — Yet do not go up — do not go up ! kind, good 
 Charles Walton, do not go up !" 
 
 The young nobleman looked at her with an 
 expression of much commiseration for her 
 sorrows, but no reliance on her words. " I 
 must go, Arrah," he said ; " you know my 
 sister is there ; and even if there be danger I 
 must go. Come up, Arrah, there 's a good 
 girl, and we will do the best we can for you in 
 these sad times." 
 
 The poor girl shook her head sadly, and 
 after a moment's pause, replied, " Ah ! you 
 think me a fool ; and so I am, perhaps, 
 for things trouble me much here," and she 
 laid her finger on her brow ; " memories — 
 memories that haunt me, but are like dreams 
 that we try to recall distinctly after sleep is 
 gone, and yet have but faint images of them, 
 as of trees in a mist. But I am not a fool in 
 this, sir ; and I beseech, you not to go." 
 
 " Stay with her, Langan," said Lord Walton, 
 *' and bring her up to the house. The fit is
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 17 
 
 upon the poor girl ; and her grandfather's 
 death may make it worse. You loved him 
 well, and will be kind to her. Stay with her, 
 good fellow, and persuade her to come up. — 
 I must go now, Arrah," he continued, " but 
 come up with Langan ; for Annie will be glad 
 to see you again, and will try to comfort you." 
 Thus saying, he remounted his horse, and 
 rode onward up the hill. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 18 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 In the well-sanded parlour of a small but neat 
 inn, called the " Rose of Shaaron," on the 
 evening- of the same day whereof we have just 
 been speaking, and in the village, or town, 
 as perhaps we should call it, of Bishop's 
 Merton — for it was beginning to give itself 
 the airs of a great place — sat two personages 
 finishing their supper, about half-past nine 
 o'clock. Their food was a cold sirloin of 
 roast beef; for the English nation were always 
 fond of that plain and substantial commodity ; 
 and their drink was good English ale, the , 
 most harmonious accompaniment to the meat. 
 The elder of the two was a hard-featured.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 19 
 
 somewhat morose-looking personage, but of a 
 hale, fresh complexion, with a quick grey eye. 
 There was a great deal of thought upon the 
 brow ; and round the mouth were some strong- 
 defined lines, we might almost call them fur- 
 rows. He was as thin and spare, too, as a 
 pair of tongs, but apparently strong and active 
 for his age, and his long limbs and breadth of 
 chest spoke considerable original powers. He 
 was dressed altos^ether in black ; and thouo'h 
 a tall steeple-crowned hat lay on a chair by 
 his side, he wore, while sitting at meat, a small 
 round cap of dark cloth, in the shape of half 
 a pumpkin, on the top of his head. He had 
 also a good strong sword leaning on the chair 
 beside him, habited like himself in black, with 
 steel points and hilt. 
 
 The other was a younger man, very different 
 in appearance ; a good deal taller tlian his 
 companion, and apparently more vigorous ; 
 his face decorated with an immense pair of 
 
 mustachios, and a somewhat pointed beard, 
 c 2
 
 20 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 both of that indistinct hue which may be called 
 whey colour. His hair floated upon his shoul- 
 ders in the style of the cavaliers ; but to say 
 the truth, it seemed somewhat unconscious of 
 the comb ; and his dress, too, displayed that 
 sort of dirty finery which by no means pre- 
 possesses the wary usurer, or experienced 
 tradesman, with the idea of great funds at 
 command on the part of the wearer. His 
 doublet of soiled leather disj^layed a great 
 number of ornamented buttons, and shreds of 
 gold lace ; his collar and hand-ruffles were of 
 lace, which had once been of high price, but 
 had seen service probably with more masters 
 than one, and had borne away in the conflict 
 with the world many a hole and tear, more 
 honourable in flag or standard than inhuman 
 apparel. Hanging by his side, and ready for 
 action, was an egregious rapier, with a small 
 dagger placed beside it, as if to set ofi* its 
 length to greater advantage. On his legs 
 were a large pair of jack-boots, which he
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 21 
 
 seldom laid aside, and there is even reason to 
 suppose that they covered several deficiencies ; 
 and hanging on a peg behind, was a broad 
 beaver, very unlike the hats usually worn in 
 England at the time, ornamented with a long 
 red feather. 
 
 As to his countenance and its expression, 
 they were very peculiar. The features in 
 themselves were not bad — the eyes large and 
 somewhat prominent. The nose, which was 
 so j)re-eminent as to form the chief object in 
 the expanse of his countenance, whichever way 
 his face was turned, was not altogether ill- 
 shaped, and might have passed muster amongst 
 the ordinary noses of the world, had it not 
 been that it was set in the midst of a patch of 
 red, which seemed to have transferred itself 
 from the cheeks to unite in the centre of the 
 face. The expression was bold, swaggering-, 
 and impudent ; but a touch of shrewd cunning 
 was there, diversified every now and then by 
 a quick, furtive look around, which seemed
 
 22 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 to show that the worthy gentleiuan himself, 
 like a careful sentinel, was always upon the 
 watch. 
 
 Certainly, seldom were there ever seen com- 
 panions more opposite than were there seated 
 at supper on the present occasion ; and yet it 
 not unfrequently happens, in this strange life 
 of ours, that circumstances, inclination, or way- 
 ward fortune, makes our comrade of the way 
 the man, of all others, least like ourself ; and 
 of all the great general principles which are 
 subject to exceptions, that which has the most 
 is the fact, of birds of a feather flying to- 
 gether. 
 
 " I have done," said the elder of the two, 
 laying down his knife. 
 
 " Pooh, nonsense !" cried the other; " you 
 haven't eaten half a pound. I shan't have 
 done this half hour. I am like a camel, 
 Master Randal. Whenever I have an oppor- 
 tunity I lay in a store in my own stomach for 
 the journey."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 23 
 
 " Or like an ass," replied the other gentle- 
 man, " who takes more upon his back than he 
 can carry." 
 
 " No, not like an ass either," replied the 
 man with the great mustachios, " for an ass 
 bears the food for other peoj^le — I for myself. 
 How can you or I tell that we shall get an- 
 other meal for the next three days ? 'T is 
 always right to prepare for the worst ; and 
 therefore, so long as my stomach will hold, 
 and the beef endure, I will go on." 
 
 " The man who never knows vv^hen he has 
 enough," answered his companion, " is sure, 
 sooner or later, either to vrant or have too 
 much, and one is as bad as the other." 
 
 " Oh, your pardon, your pardon !" cried the 
 tall man ; " give me the too much. I will 
 always find means to dispose of it — I am of 
 the too-much faction. It 's my battle-cry, my 
 rallying word. Give me the too much by all 
 means. Did you ever see a carpenter cut out 
 a door? Did you ever see a tailor cut out
 
 24 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 a coat ? Did you ever see a blacksmith forge 
 a liorse-slioe ? They always take too much to 
 begin with. There are plenty of bags in the 
 world always wide open for superfluities ; but, 
 to say truth, I never found I had too much 
 yet : that 's an epoch in my history which is to 
 come." 
 
 " Because, like other fools, you never know 
 when you have enough," replied the man 
 called Randal ; " and as for your future his- 
 tory, it will form but a short tale, easily told." 
 
 " I know what you would say — I know 
 what you would say," replied the other ; " that 
 the last act will find me in the most elevated 
 situation I have ever filled, though I may still 
 be a dependant. But I can tell you, my good 
 friend, that in my many dangerous expe- 
 ditions and important occupations, I have 
 escaped the cross piece of timber and the line 
 perpendicular so often, that I fear I am re- 
 served for another fate, and am in great dread 
 every time I go upon the water."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 25 
 
 *' You are quite safe," replied the other, 
 with a grim smile : " I '11 wager a thousand 
 pounds upon your life, in a worm-eaten boat, 
 with a hole in the bottom. But hemp, 
 hemp — I would have you beware of hemp ! 
 Odds life ! to hear you talk of your dangerous 
 
 expeditions and important occupations 
 
 Cease, cease, I would sleep in peace to-night, 
 and you will give me an indigestion." 
 
 "Pshaw!" cried the other; "you have no 
 more stomach than a pipped hen ; and as to 
 my exploits, what land have I not visited — 
 what scenes have I not seen ? To whom, if 
 not to me, was owing the defence of Rochelle ? 
 To whom " 
 
 " Hush," hush !" said his companion ; " tell 
 the tale to others. I would as soon drink 
 vinegar, or eat stale cabbage, as hear lies four 
 times repeated — even with a variation." 
 
 " Lies ! " cried the other ; " thunder and 
 lightning, sir" 
 
 " There, there," cried his companion, quietly
 
 26 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 waving his hand : " that will do ; no more of 
 it. Thunder and lightning- will do nothing at 
 your bidding ; so the less you have to do with 
 them the better, lest you burn your fingers. 
 Try to be an honest man ; leave off lying ; 
 don't swagger but when you are drunk ; and 
 perchance you may be permitted to hold the 
 horses while other men fight." 
 
 " Well, there is no use in quarrelling with a 
 maggot," replied his tall comrade ; and, tak- 
 ing to his knife again, he commenced a new 
 inroad on the beef, in assailing which, at least, 
 he kept his word with a laudable degree of 
 fidelity. 
 
 In the mean while, the gentleman in black 
 turned his shoulder to the table, and fell into 
 deep thought. But after a moment or two he 
 opened his lips, with an oracular shake of the 
 head, not exactly addressing his speech to his 
 companion, but more apparently to the hilt of 
 his own sword, the point of which he had 
 brought round between his feet, and the blade
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 27 
 
 of which he twirled round and round with his 
 hands while he was speaking*. 
 
 " Nine out of ten of them," he said, " are 
 either rank fools or cold-hearted knaves, pre- 
 sumptuous blockheads, who think they have a 
 right to command, because they have not wit 
 enough to obey ; or cunning scoundrels, who 
 aim alone at their own interests, when they are 
 affecting to serve only their country, and yet 
 are fools enough not to see that the good of 
 the whole is the good of every part." 
 
 " Who, who, who ? Who do you mean ? " 
 answered the other. 
 
 " English gentlemen," replied the man in 
 black ; " English gentlemen, I say." 
 
 " Complimentary, certainly," remarked his 
 comrade ; " and by no means too general or 
 comprehensive. I dare say it 's very true, 
 though. So here's to your health. Master 
 Randal." 
 
 '* Let my health alone," said Randal, " and 
 take care of your own ; for if you drink much
 
 28 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 more of that old ale, your head, to-morrow 
 morning, will be as heavy as the barrel from 
 which it comes, and I shall have to pump 
 upon you to make you fit for any business 
 whatsoever. Come, finish your supper, and 
 take a walk with me upon the hill. — But who 
 have we here ? One of the rebels, I take it. 
 Now, mind your part, but do not lie more than 
 your nature absolutely requires." 
 
 The last words of this speech were, as may 
 be supposed, spoken in a low voice, an addi- 
 tion having been suddenly made to the party 
 in the room where they were sitting. 
 
 The personage who entered was the same 
 thin, self-denying-looking gentleman who had 
 passed poor Arrah Neil, as she sat by the 
 fountain in the morning, and had, in his own 
 mind, charitably furnished her with a lodging 
 in the stocks. That we may not have to 
 return in order to relate this gentleman's pre- 
 vious history hereafter, we may as well pause 
 here for a moment to say the few words that
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 29 
 
 are needed on the subject, especially as some 
 reference may be made to liis former life in 
 another place. 
 
 Master Dry, of Longsoaken, as he was now 
 called, had risen from an humble origin, and, 
 though now a wealthy man, had commenced 
 his career as the errand-boy of a grocer, or 
 rather general dealer, in the village of Bishop's 
 Merton. His master was a rigid man, a Puri- 
 tan of the most severe cast, and his master's 
 wife a buxom dame, given somewhat to the 
 good things of life, especially of a fluid kind, 
 which she employed the ingenuity of young 
 Ezekiel Dry in obtaining for her, unknown to 
 her more abstemious better half. He thus 
 acquired some small skill in deceiving sharp 
 eyes ; and it was whispered that his worthy 
 patron did not fail to give him further im- 
 provement in this peculiar branch of science, 
 by initiating him into the mystery of the dif- 
 ference between a yard measure and a yard of 
 tape or ribbon, between a pound weight and
 
 30 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 a pound of sugar or butter ; between wliich, 
 as the learned reader is well aware, there is a 
 great and important distinction. 
 
 As worthy Ezekiel Dry grew up into a 
 young man, his master settled down into an 
 old one — and at length death, who, like his 
 neighbours in a country town, is compelled 
 occasionally to go to the chandler's shop, 
 called one morning at the door of Ezekiel's 
 master, and would not be satisfied without his 
 full measure. 
 
 The usual course of events then took place 
 — there was a widow, and a shopman — the 
 widow was middle aged and wealthy, the shop- 
 man young and poor ; and Mr. Dry became a 
 married man, and master of the shop. During a 
 probation of twenty years, which his state of ma- 
 trimony lasted, he did not altogether escape 
 scandal ; but in those times, as in others, very 
 rigid piety (at least in appearance) was not 
 always accompanied by very rigid morality — 
 and those people who conceived that they
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 31 
 
 might exist separately, looked upon the latter 
 as of very little consequence where the former 
 was pre-eminent. 
 
 At length, after having resisted time and 
 strong waters (which her second husband 
 never denied her in any quantity) to the age 
 of nearly seventy, Mrs. Dry slept with her 
 ancestors ; and Mr. Dry went on flourishing, 
 till at length he sold his house and shop to 
 another pillar of the conventicle, and bought 
 a good estate in the near neighbourhood, called 
 Longsoaken. He still kept up his connexion 
 with his native town, hov^ever, became a 
 person of the highest consideration therein, 
 took part in all its councils, managed many of 
 its affairs, was acquainted with all its news, 
 and was the stay of the Puritans, the terror 
 of the parson, and the scorn of the cavaliers. 
 
 It was his usual custom, as he still remained 
 a widower, to look into the Rose of Shaaron 
 every fine afternoon, less, as he said, to take 
 even the needful refreshment of the body,
 
 32 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 than to pause and meditate for half an hour, 
 before he retired to his own house ; but it was 
 remarked that, on these occasions, he invariably 
 had a small measure of some kind of liquid 
 put down beside him, and consulted the host 
 upon the affairs of everybody in the place. 
 
 In the present instance, Mr. Dry had re- 
 ceived immediate information that two stran- 
 gers had appeared at the Rose of Shaaron, 
 between eight and nine, and he had hastened 
 up from Longsoaken without loss of time ; 
 but he had spent nearly half an hour with the 
 landlord in an inner chamber, inquiring into 
 all the particulars of their appearance and 
 demeanour. Now, the landlord had lost more 
 than one good customer in consequence of 
 the unpleasant interference of his respected 
 neighbour, who had occasionally caused some 
 of the most expensive visitors at his house to 
 be committed as malignants ; but as he dared 
 not show any resistance, or make any remon- 
 strance, to a person so high in authority as
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 33 
 
 Master Dry, of Longsoaken, his only course 
 was to defend the characters of his guests as 
 far as was safe. But the worthy host was a 
 timid man, and never ventured to pronounce 
 a decided opinion in the presence of his 
 betters. 
 
 In answer, therefore, to the questions now 
 addressed to him, he replied, " Oh dear no, 
 worshipful sir! That is to say — for one cannot 
 be certain of anything in this ungodly world 
 — they do not look like it at all. Malignants 
 are always gay in their apparel, and the gen- 
 tleman is dressed just like yourself, all in 
 black. He has got a Geneva scull- cap, too. 
 I should not wonder if he were a gifted man 
 like yourself." 
 
 " That may be a mere disguise," said Mr, 
 Dry. 
 
 "Then, malignants are always roystering 
 blades," continued the landlord — " calling for 
 all manner of things, beginning with wine, 
 and ending with strong waters. IMow, these 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 34 ARRAH NEEL ; OR, 
 
 good people have had nought but beef and 
 ale ; though, doubtless, as all godly men may- 
 do for the comfort of the inner man, they will 
 take something more warming before they go 
 — but, as yet, one tankard of ale is all they 
 have had." 
 
 "That looks well," said Mr. Dry, oracu- 
 larly ; " not that I would condemn any man 
 for using creature comforts in moderation, 
 according to his necessity. Some men's com- 
 plexion, if of a cold and melancholic nature, 
 does require such helps. I myself am driven 
 to it — but what more, my friend ? Are they 
 grave in their discourse ?" 
 
 " As heart could wish," replied the landlord. 
 " I should take them rather for the most pious 
 and humble — " 
 
 " I will see them myself," interrupted Dry, 
 who began to suspect the landlord. *' It is 
 not easy to deceive my eyes." 
 
 But the worthy host contrived to detain his 
 worshipful fellow -townsman for some five
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 35 
 
 minutes lon^r, in order that the guests might 
 finish their meal in peace, by opening a con- 
 versation relative to the return of " the poor 
 silly girl, Arrah N^il," as he called her, in 
 regard to whom he had shrewd suspicions 
 that Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, entertained 
 sentiments not quite so rigid as those which 
 his words in the morning might seem to imply. 
 On this part of their conversation, however, 
 I shall not dwell, as it would be neither very 
 instructive nor very amusing, but will return 
 once more to the parlour of the inn which 
 Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, entered with a staid 
 and stately step, with his two eyes bent upon 
 the ground, as if he were in deep meditation. 
 The younger of the two guests in the parlour 
 lolled in his chair and bit his lip. The elder 
 considered Mr. Dry attentively, but suffered 
 him to enter the room and aj^proach the table, 
 without saying a word. Neither did he make 
 any movement of limb or feature, but remained 
 
 cold, stiff, and dry, as if his limbs and his 
 D 2
 
 36 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 countenance were made of wood. Mr. Dry, 
 however, always recollected that he was a 
 man in authority ; and great success in life, 
 where there is any weakness of character, is 
 sure to produce a confident self-importance, 
 very comfortable to the possessor thereof, 
 though not particularly agreeable to his friends 
 and companions. 
 
 As neither of the others uttered a word, 
 then, he began the conversation himself with- 
 out farther ado. 
 
 "I trust we are brethren, sir," he said, 
 addressing the gentleman whom we have called 
 Randal. 
 
 " I trust we are so," replied the other. 
 " Ahem !" said Mr. Dry, " my name is Dry, 
 sir — Dry, of Longsoaken." 
 
 " You may be soaked long enough," mur- 
 mured the man at the table to himself, not 
 loud enough to be heard — " you may be 
 soaked long enough before you are moistened, 
 Mr. Dry."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 37 
 
 But his companion, who saw his lips move, 
 gave him a grave look and replied to the 
 intruder, " I am happy to hear it, sir. It is a 
 godly name, which I have heard of [^before. 
 Will you never have done with that beef. 
 Master Barecolt ?" 
 
 " But this mouthful, but this mouthful," 
 replied the gentleman at the table, " and then 
 I am with you." 
 
 " One word before you go," said Mr. Dry ; 
 "you seem, sir, a godly and well-disposed 
 man, and I doubt not have been led into the 
 right way ; but there is an air of prelatic 
 malignancy about this person at the table." 
 
 " You are altogether mistaken, worthy Dry," 
 said the good gentleman who had been paying 
 such devoted attention to the beef; " there is 
 nothing malignant about my nature, and the 
 air you talk of is but a remnant of French 
 manners caught while I was serving our Cal- 
 vinistic brethren in that poor, benighted land. 
 In me, sir, you behold him whom you may
 
 3S ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 liave heard of — wlio in the morning preached 
 to the people in the beleaguered city of 
 Roclielle, from the 2nd verse of the 24th 
 chapter of the book of Joshua, ' Your fathers 
 dwelt on the other side of the flood in old 
 time ;' and who in the evening led them out 
 to battle, and smote the Philistines hip and 
 thigh. That is to say, broke through the 
 stockade, and defeated two regiments of the 
 guards.'* 
 
 " I have heard of the deed," replied Mr. 
 Dry. 
 
 " Then you must have heard likewise," said 
 the gentleman at the table, rising up at full 
 length, and making the intruder a low bow, 
 " of Master Deciduous Barecolt." 
 
 " I think I have, I think I have," said IMr. 
 Dry. 
 
 " Then, again," cried Barecolt, " when I 
 defended the pass in the Cevenne&, with only 
 two godly companions, against the Count de 
 Suza and a hundred and fifty blood-thirsty
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 39 
 
 papists, you must surely liave heard of that 
 exploit." 
 
 " I cannot say I have," replied Mr. Dry. 
 
 " Then, sir, you are ignorant of the history 
 of Europe," answered the other with a look 
 of high indignation ; " for I trust the name of 
 Deciduous Barecolt is known from the mouth 
 of the Elhe to the mouth of the Danube, and 
 will descend to posterity upon the stream of 
 time, only rendered imperishable by that which 
 destroys other things. Good-night, Mr. Dry. 
 iSTow, Master Randal, I am ready to accompany 
 you. Shall we sing a psalm before we go ?" 
 
 " IS^o," replied Randal abruptly, and pick- 
 ing up his hat, he led the way out of the 
 room. 
 
 The inn was situated near the extremity of 
 the town; and at the distance of about two 
 hundred paces from the door, the two strangers 
 emerged from between the lines of houses, 
 and found themselves among the hedge-rows. 
 Without any hesitation as to the track which
 
 40 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 he was to pursue, the younger gentleman 
 mounted a stile to the right and took a path 
 which, crossing the fields, wound gradually up 
 over one slope after another till it reached the 
 brow of the hill on which Bishop's Merton 
 House was placed. 
 
 It was a fine clear moonlight night; and, 
 at the distance of about a mile from the man- 
 sion, they caught a sight of its wide front ex- 
 tending along the hill, till the wings were 
 concealed by a little wood, behind which, 
 as they walked on, the whole building was 
 speedily lost. 
 
 " It is a fine old place," said Barecolt to his 
 companion ; " it always puts me in mind of 
 the Escurial." 
 
 *' More likely puts you in mind of the 
 stocks," said Randal ; " for you have both seen 
 and felt the one, and never set eyes upon the 
 other." 
 
 "How can you tell that I never saw if?" 
 exclaimed his companion ; " you have not had
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 41 
 
 the dandling of me ever since I was a baby 
 in arms." 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" cried Randal ; " but I am 
 sure you never have seen it, because you say 
 you have. However, you must either speak 
 truth to-night, or hold your tongue. I did 
 not stop you in your course of gasconade with 
 that round-headed knave at the inn, because 
 I knew that you must void a certain quantity 
 of falsehood in the day, and it was necessary 
 to get rid of it before you came up here ; for 
 this young lord is not one to take counterfeit 
 coin.'' 
 
 " The monster !" exclaimed Barecolt ; " there 
 is not a more cruel or barbarous creature in 
 the earth than the man who drives from his 
 door all the sweet little children of the imagi- 
 nation which you call lies. He is wanting in 
 all human charity. Give me the generous 
 and confiding soul who believes everything 
 that is said to him, and enjoys the story of a 
 traveller who relates to him wild scenes in
 
 42: AERAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 lands he never has visited, just as much as if 
 it was all as true as history — " 
 
 " Which is itself a lie," rejoined the other. 
 " Had this young man's father been alive, you 
 would have found a person after your own 
 heart. He was a man of vast capabilities of 
 belief. His mind was but a looking-glass, 
 always representing what was before it ; his 
 religion was in the last sermon he had heard, 
 his politics in the last broadsheet, his opinions 
 those of his companions for the hour, his taste 
 the newest mode that he had seen. He was 
 the quintessence of an ordinary-minded man. 
 Bat his son is a very different being." 
 
 Barecolt made no rash promise of abstain- 
 ing from his favourite amusement, but walked 
 on for about a hundred yards in silence, till 
 suddenly his companion exclaimed, " Do you 
 not see a strange light shining through the 
 wood before us? Hark, there is an alarm- 
 bell !" And hurryrng his pace he issued forth 
 from the wood some three hundred yards
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 43 
 
 farther on, where the cause of the light they 
 had remarked became too visible. 
 
 Rising up from one of the flanking towers 
 of the old house, in large white volumes, to 
 the very sky, was a tall column of smoke, 
 spreading out towards the top, while from the 
 building itself poured forth the rushing flame 
 like a huge beacon, illuminating all the country 
 round. Each window in that tower and the 
 neighbouring wing emitted the same blaze ; 
 and it was very evident — although a number 
 of persons were seen moving about upon the 
 terrace, engaged apparently in the endeavour 
 to extinguish the fire — that it was making its 
 way rapidly towards the rest of the house. 
 
 The two strangers ran as fast as possible to 
 give assistance. But before I pursue their 
 adventures on that night, I must turn to 
 speak of all that had taken place within the 
 mansion of Bishop's Merton during the even- 
 ing preceding the disaster which I have de- 
 scribed.
 
 44 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 There was in tlie mansion of Bishop's Mer- 
 ton, one of tliose delightful old chambers 
 which, like a warm and benevolent heart, have 
 a nook for every one. It was a large wide 
 room with a recess on one side big enough to 
 have formed another room, and a lesser re- 
 cess at each corner, on the same side, made 
 by two small square turrets, each lighted by 
 its own windows, and containing tables and 
 chairs of its own, so that the studious or the 
 meditative, but not the unsociable, could sit 
 and read, or muse apart, without being ac- 
 tually cut off from the society assembled. 
 The walls were all covered with tapestry, de-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 45 
 
 scended through many generations in the 
 same family, and which had covered the walls 
 of a similar chamber in an old castle, partly 
 destroyed during the' civil wars of the Roses, 
 and pulled down at the commencement of the 
 reign of Henry the Eighth. 
 
 Out from the tapestry, however, after an old 
 fashion, which certainly showed pictures to 
 much greater advantage than when plastered 
 upon the face of the wall, stood a great many 
 portraits of different degrees of art, supported 
 at the lower part by a gilt iron bracket, and 
 upheld in a slightly sloping position by an 
 iron bar at the top. From the cold severe 
 Holbein, to the rich and juicy Rubens, and 
 the poetical Vandyke, all the famous artists 
 of the last two centuries had exercised their 
 pencils in portraying the features of a race 
 which had always been fruitful in beauty ; and 
 the history of the changeful mind of those 
 two ages was shadowed forth in the varying 
 costume in which the characters appeared.
 
 46 ARRAH TSrEIL; OR, 
 
 ]N"or is it, let me say, dear reader, in passing, 
 a slight indication of the state of the popular 
 mind that is afforded by the dress of the day. 
 Look at the cavalier in his long floating locks, 
 his silks and velvets, and at the roundhead, 
 in his steeple hat, his straight- cut suit and 
 prim cloak, each with his heavy- hilted sword 
 and large flapping gloves, and say whether 
 Naseby Field and Marston Moor, and all the 
 deeds on either part, do not naturally, and 
 not purely historically, connect themselves 
 with such apparel ; and then turn to ourselves, 
 with our straight-cut frock coats, neat close- 
 fitting boots, and other mathematical habili- 
 ments, which seem to have been fashioned by 
 the rules and compasses of a Laputan sage, 
 and tell me whether they do not plainly speak 
 of an age of railroads and steamboats. 
 
 There, however, stood the pictures of the 
 brave and beautiful of other times, bending 
 down over their once familiar halls, and the 
 doings of their descendants, as the spirits of
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 47 
 
 the dead may be supposed to gaze upon the 
 actions of the children they have left behind ; 
 and there in the oriel window, just about the 
 time of day at which we commenced this tale, 
 sat a creature, whom those long-gone bold 
 warriors and lovely dames might look upon 
 with pride, and own her of their blood. 
 
 It was a lady of some twenty years of age, 
 not very tall, but yet, if anything, above the 
 middle height of women. She was very beau- 
 tiful, too, in feature, with a skin as white as 
 alabaster, and as smooth, yet with the rose 
 glowing in her cheek, and her arched lips red 
 and full of health. 
 
 I have long discovered that it is impossible 
 to paint beauty with the pen ; and, therefore, I 
 will say no more than may be sufficient merely 
 to give the reader some idea of what kind 
 and sort hers was of, more that the harmony 
 which ought always, and generally does, in 
 some degree, exist between the form and mind 
 may be understood, than to draw a picture
 
 48 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 of which imagination would still have to fill 
 up half the details. Though her skin, as I 
 have said, was so fair, her hair, her eyebrows, 
 and her eyes were dark, not exactly black — 
 for in them all there was a gleam of sunny 
 warmth which brightened, like the dawn, the 
 deep hue of night. The expression of her 
 countenance was generally gay and cheerful, 
 but varying often, as a heart quickly suscep- 
 tible of strong feelings, and a mind full of 
 imagination, were affected by the events in 
 which she took part, and the circumstances 
 around her. Youth and health, and bountiful 
 nature, had endued her form with manifold 
 graces, and though her limbs were full and 
 rounded in contour, yet they displayed in 
 every movement lines of exquisite symmetry, 
 and like the child of Joab, she was swift of 
 foot as the wild roe. As is often the case 
 with persons of quick fancy, her mind, though 
 naturally of a cheerful and hopeful bent, was, 
 nevertheless, not unfrequently overshadowed
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 4& 
 
 by a cloud of passing melancholy ; and a look 
 of sadness would occasionally come into lier 
 fair face, as if the consciousness which is in 
 most hearts that this world of glittering de- 
 lusions has its darker scenes, eyen for those of 
 the brightest fate, made itself painfully felt at 
 times when no apparent cause for grief or 
 apprehension was near. But such shadows 
 passed quickly away, and the general tone of 
 her heart and her expression was, as we have 
 said, bright and sunshiny. 
 
 Her father had been a man who took his 
 ideas greatly from those amongst whom he 
 lived. In short, he attributed too much im- 
 portance to the opinions of his fellow-men. 
 We may attribute too little to them, it is true, 
 and even great men are bound to pay some 
 deference to the deliberate judgment of many ; 
 but it is usually, nay invariably, a sign of 
 weak understanding, to depend for the tone of 
 our own thoughts upon those around. How- 
 ever, as he was thrown into the society of 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 men who set great value upon accomplish- 
 ments, such as they were in those days, he 
 had made a point of having his daughter in- 
 structed in all the lighter arts of the times. 
 To sing, to dance, to play on various instru- 
 ments, to speak the two languages most in 
 fashion at the court, French and Italian, with 
 the ease and accent of a native, had seemed to 
 him matters of vast importance ; and as she 
 showed every facility in acquiring whatever 
 he desired, he had no cause to be discontented 
 with her progress. She might, perhaps, have 
 been taught to consider such things of much 
 importance too ; but she had a mother, — the 
 safeguard of God to our early years. That 
 mother was a woman of a high and noble 
 mind, somewhat stern perhaps and rigid, yet 
 not unkind or unfeeling ; and between a parent 
 weak, though possessed of talent, and one 
 keen and powerful in intellect, though not 
 quick or brilliant, it may easily be guessed 
 which gave the strongest impress to the mind
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 61 
 
 of the child. Thus Annie Walton learned, 
 perhaps, somewhat to undervalue the accom- 
 plishments which, to please her father, she 
 acquired, and though she possessed less of 
 the stern, calm, determined character of her 
 mother than her brother Charles, and more 
 of the pliant and easy disposition of her 
 father, yet she inherited a share of high reso- 
 lution and firm decision, which was requisite, 
 even in a woman, to enable her to encounter 
 the dangers and difficulties of the times in 
 which she lived. 
 
 She sat, then, in the oriel window of the 
 hall at Bishop's Merton, reading a page, 
 printed roughly on coarse paper, while now a 
 smile, somewhat saddened, and now a look of 
 anger, somewhat brightened by the half- faded 
 smile, passed over her sweet face, as in one of 
 the broad sheets of the day, which had been 
 left with her a few minutes before by Mr. 
 Dry, of Longsoaken, she saw the doings of a 
 
 parliament, which began by asserting the 
 E 2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 JIRRARY
 
 52 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 rights of the people, and ended by attacking 
 the just prerogatives of the crown — which 
 commenced by opposing tyranny and deceit 
 in the rulers of the land, and ended by far 
 exceeding all the t3nranny and deceit it had 
 opposed, and adding the most beastly hypo- 
 crisy and violence, fraud, rapine, and cruelty, 
 to the crimes and follies which it had found 
 existing. She read and smiled — she read and 
 sighed — for though her family had taken no 
 part in the deeds of the last twelve months, 
 and though her mother had been through life 
 rather attached to the doctrines of the Pres- 
 byterians than their opponents, yet there w^as 
 something in the cause of the cavaliers, with 
 all their faults, in their very rashness and want 
 of all pretence — something in the cold- 
 blooded hypocrisy and false pretexts of the 
 parliamentarians, which had engaged her sjrm- 
 pathies on the losing side, and roused her in- 
 dignation against the successful. 
 
 While she was thus occupied, a horseman
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 53 
 
 passed rapidly before the window towards the 
 principal door of the house, crossing like a 
 quick bird in its flight ; and casting down the 
 paper, Miss Walton ran out murmuring, " It 
 is Charles !" 
 
 There was a large old-fashioned vestibule 
 hung with pikes and arms, corslets and head- 
 pieces, and stags' antlers and hunting horns, 
 and all the implements of real battle, and of 
 the mimic warfare of the chase. The door 
 leading to the terrace stood wide open, with 
 an old servant on either side, and as she 
 bounded forward with the expectation of meet- 
 ing her brother, with her countenance beaming 
 with pleasure, to greet him on his return, a 
 stranger entered and advanced at once towards 
 her. 
 
 Annie Walton's face suddenly became gra- 
 ver, and a blush rose into her cheek ; but the 
 cavalier came forward with a frank and unem- 
 barrassed air, walked straight up to her, and 
 took her hand, as if he had been an old friend.
 
 64 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 "You thought it was your brother," ne 
 said, with easy grace, saving her all trouble of 
 explanation, " and you are disappointed. Miss 
 Walton. Would that I had a sister to look so 
 joyful on my return to my old halls — but 
 your disappointment will have no long life. 
 Charles Walton will be here ere the world be 
 an hour older ; and in the mean time you must 
 show me and my poor beast fair hospitality till 
 the master of the mansion comes himself to 
 tell you more about his friend, Sir Francis 
 Clare." 
 
 He bowed as he thus introduced himself, 
 and Annie Walton, with all courtesy, but a 
 grave air, invited him to the hall where she 
 had been sitting, trying to call to mind the 
 name he had mentioned, amongst those of all 
 her brother's acquaintances. She could recol- 
 lect no such person, however, as Sir Francis 
 Clare ; and although there was in the frank- 
 ness of the stranger's manner something that 
 pleased her, yet she almost thought it too free
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 55 
 
 in one whom she could not believe to be very 
 intimate with Lord Walton. Yet there was a 
 grace as well as an ease in his demeanour, a 
 tone not easily described, but which can only 
 be acquired by long intimate habits of fami- 
 liarity with persons of high mind and education, 
 a self-possession, distinct from impudence, 
 which showed her at once that the visitor was 
 not one of the wild and reckless roysterers of 
 the court and army of King Charles, who 
 presumed without merit, and endeavoured to 
 cover vulgarity of spirit with self-confidence. 
 
 Leading the way then to the hall, she begged 
 the stranger to be seated. He bowed, and let 
 her take her place, while he remained stand- 
 ing before her, calculating rapidly what was 
 passing in her thoughts, and, to say truth, 
 somewhat struck with the beauty of this cyno- 
 sure of neighbouring eyes, who, whatever he 
 might have expected to find, went far in love- 
 liness beyond his imagination. 
 
 There was a momentary pause while she
 
 56 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 tlioiiglit of what was next to come ; but the 
 stranger spoke first. " I must seem very bold, 
 I fear, and somewhat too free, Miss Walton," 
 he said at length, " in thus treating you as an 
 old acquaintance ; but the circumstances of 
 these days engender strange habits of rapidity 
 in all our doings. Rough times abridge cere- 
 monies, and besides, when our thoughts are 
 familiar even with those whom we have never 
 met, a sort of one-sided friendship grows up 
 in our breast towards them which makes us 
 forget that it is not reciprocal. I have so often 
 heard your brother talk of you, so often con- 
 versed with him of you, that I may think 
 myself lucky that at our first meeting I did 
 not offend you by calling you Annie." 
 
 " It would have surprised more than of- 
 fended," replied his fair companion with a 
 smile ; " but Charles will, I trust, soon make us 
 better acquainted. Have you seen him lately ?" 
 
 " Not for five years," answered Sir Francis 
 Clare; *'and yet, sweet lady, know more of
 
 TIMES OF OLD. S7 
 
 his proceeding's than you do, who parted from 
 him but a week ago — not that he is deep- 
 dyed in plots and conspiracies kept from his 
 sister's ear; but simply because he wrote to 
 me yesterday one of his brief but comprehen- 
 sive notes, telling me what he purposed, and 
 giving me a rendezvous here to-day, which I, 
 with my usual impatience, have run before by 
 near an hour. I heard of him, too, as I came 
 along, and though I found that I should be 
 before liim, yet I hurried on — not to surprise 
 his sister all alone, and make her wonder what 
 rash man had come to visit her, believe me." 
 
 " Such an object were little worth the spur, 
 sir," replied the lady, laughing; "but if I 
 understand you right, your friendship with my 
 brother must have begun when he was in 
 France." 
 
 " Long before that," replied the cavalier ; 
 " but when last I parted with him he was in 
 Italy, where he left me to return to his own 
 house. We bade each other farewell under
 
 58 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 the Loggia de Lanzi, in the fair town of Flo- 
 rence." 
 
 " Oh, how I long to see that place !" cried 
 Annie Walton — " it is one of the dreams of 
 my imagination which, perhaps, may never 
 be realized." 
 
 " Few dreams of the imagination ever are," 
 answered her companion. " He who gives 
 himself up to fancy is like a man led by a 
 child, who tells him of all the wonderful things 
 that he will show him in the garden of the 
 world, and when he comes to see the marvels, 
 he finds them but May blossoms and briar 
 roses, that fade as soon as gathered, and leave 
 a bunch of thorns in his hand." 
 
 Annie Walton raised her eyes to the stran- 
 ger's brow, and gazed at the rich floating hair 
 that covered it, to see if she could trace any of 
 the marks of that age which has proved the 
 world and discovered its delusions. But all 
 was youthful and open; there was nothing 
 grey or grave, and she replied —
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 59 
 
 " You speak sadly of this earth and its en- 
 joyments, sir ; and yet I would not part with 
 fancy and all her pleasant deceits if I could." 
 
 "Never! never!" cried Sir Francis Clare, 
 eagerly. " If I may use a paradox, sweet 
 lady, the deceits of reality are ten times more 
 dangerous than those of imagination. If all 
 things are delusions except the hopes of a 
 higher and a holier world, let us keep the 
 pleasant delusions at least, and they are those 
 
 of fancy but what have we here ? — the last 
 
 news from London." 
 
 " The reply of the parliament to the king's 
 message," answered the lady ; " and thirty-one 
 good reasons for rejecting his majesty's offers, 
 with the godly and soul- saving declaration 
 of several pious men concerning popery and 
 prelacy." 
 
 The stranger laughed. 
 
 " How easy is it," he cried, " to cover gross 
 treason, not only to king but country, with 
 fair pretexts of freedom, or to hide what they
 
 W ARTtAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 themselves call the most carnal self-seeking, 
 with the garb of religious zeal, and to give the 
 fairest names to the blackest passions of our 
 nature ! 'Tis a trite remark, but one that 
 forces itself upon us every day ; and yet this 
 is the trade that succeeds in the world, so that 
 gross deceit raises itself to high places, and sits 
 in purple and fine linen, while honesty is left 
 to beg her bread, and plain truth stands shiver- 
 ing in a ragged blanket." 
 
 *'• But I should think such bare-faced hypo- 
 crisy as this," answered the lady, " would de- 
 ceive no one. People may pretend to believe 
 it, but it must be mere affectation, as bad as 
 the hypocrisy itself." 
 
 " Your pardon, madam," replied the cavalier; 
 *' there never yet was falsehood so open and 
 impudent, which, often repeated and told with 
 a smooth face, would not find many to give it 
 ready credence. 'Not sl day passes but we see 
 some monstrous lie, decked out with strong 
 assurances of sincerity and zeal, pass current
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 61 
 
 with the multitude. Oh, lady, there is an 
 appetite for falsehood in this world that makes 
 the many-headed monster gorge the food, 
 however dirty, and, like a hungry dog, pluck 
 morsels from the very kennel. Yet there is 
 some truth, too, in what these people say. I 
 am not one to cover them with bad names ; 
 for, alas ! however wrong they may be now, 
 the king put himself in fault at first. The 
 man who suffers himself to be compelled to do 
 justice to others, will, some time or another, 
 have to compel others to do justice to him ; 
 and he who has abandoned his friends in time 
 of need, will surely have to lament their loss 
 when he has to struggle with enemies." 
 
 " And has the king done this ?" asked 
 Annie Walton. 
 
 "Strafford, Strafford," said the cavalier, 
 with a melancholy shake of the head — " bold, 
 firm-hearted, gallant Strafford. That fatal 
 error was the downfall of King Charles. 
 Where is the hand that now shall raise him.
 
 62 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 up ? Lady, when a general finds himself in a 
 town about to be besieged by an enemy, he 
 strengthens his fortifications and throws down 
 all the scattered houses and indefensible suburbs 
 that might give the foes advantage in their 
 approach; but the king pursued a different 
 course : he threw down his defences, and main- 
 tained all the suburbs and weak points. — 
 But this is sorry conversation for a lady's ear," 
 he continued ; " what a fair scene does this 
 window show. In riding through the low 
 ground I did not mark all the beauty round 
 me." 
 
 " It is indeed as fine a view as any in the 
 country round," replied Annie Walton ; " and 
 often when I feel sad at heart, I come and 
 gaze out here, and seem to find comfort and 
 confidence from the sight." 
 
 "And are you ever sad at heart?" asked 
 Sir Francis Clare, with a smile. 
 
 " 'Not very often, it is true," she answered ; 
 " but still in the present disturbed state of the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 63 
 
 country, which is like one of those dark storms 
 through which one can see no glimpse of com- 
 ing: sunshine, I cannot but sometimes feel fears 
 and apprehensions — not for myself, indeed, for 
 no one would hurt a woman, I suppose ; but 
 for my brother; and when I am thus de- 
 pressed I need the sight of things which speak 
 with a voice not to be misunderstood, of God's 
 power and His goodness too, to show me that 
 though the tempest may rage for a time, it 
 will give place to brighter hours at last, and 
 perhaps, in itself, work benefit, even while it 
 seems destined to destroy." 
 
 " Oh, may you feel ever thus," cried the 
 cavalier, eagerly ; " for it was such faith brought 
 back the dove to the ark at length. Yet often 
 when we see a world of roaring waters round 
 us, and destruction on every side, the heart 
 will sink, and trust and confidence give way 
 for a time. But still," he added, laughing, 
 " I am not one to entertain many sombre 
 thoughts ; and if the gay companions of
 
 §4: ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 thoughtless hours could know with what sad 
 ideas I have entertained a fair lady, they 
 would recommend me a Geneva skull-cap, and 
 a straight black cloak. I can assure you, our 
 talk in the court is much less solemn. Except 
 for an hour in the morning, when we speak 
 soberly of war and policy, as men take a walk 
 after breakfast for a good digestion, our days 
 pass much in the consideration of lace collars, 
 the fashion of sword knots, and of how to get 
 them. The world, I believe, and most of the 
 things in it, are not worth the waste of five 
 minutes' heavy thought ; and, weighed in a 
 just balance, perhaps, a madrigal and a charge 
 of horse, a sonnet of tiffany poetry, and the 
 plan of a campaign, are matters much more 
 nearly of the same importance than we think. 
 But there comes your brother, or I am mis- 
 taken." 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " cried the lady gladly, gazing 
 out of the open window into the valley, along 
 which a small party of horsemen were riding :
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 65 
 
 " he will be here directly ;" and she and her 
 companion, whose conversation had greatly- 
 won upon her, continued watching the pro- 
 gress of the young Lord Walton, as he rode 
 rapidly along the valley, till he was hid behind 
 the high-wooded banks, near which, as we 
 have already related, he paused to hold a 
 short conversation with poor Arrah Neil. 
 They wondered what detained him so long 
 under the trees ; but after a brief pause, he 
 appeared again, and in a few minutes he 
 sprang from his horse at the hall-door. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 *' Ha, Francis!" exclaimed Lord Walton, 
 grasping the cavalier's liand witli warm eager- 
 ness, as soon as he had received the embrace 
 of his sister, " are you here before me ? You 
 must have used the spur from Worcester, if 
 your letter left the good town before you." 
 
 " I have used the spur, Charles," replied 
 his friend, " on purpose to outrun you, and 
 introduce myself to this fair lady without your 
 assistance. You know I always was the most 
 impatient of mortals, and strange, I fear, she 
 thought me ; for I could plainly see that she 
 had never heard the name of Francis Clare 
 before." He spoke the last words with a gay 
 laugh, and some emphasis.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 67 
 
 " Perhaps not," answered Lord "Walton, 
 with a grave smile ; " but she must know you 
 now, Francis, as one of her brother's dearest 
 and oldest friends. However, I must send 
 her away from us for a minute, for I have 
 a task for her, sad, but pleasing to perform. 
 I just now found poor Arrah Neil, dear 
 Annie," he continued ; " she was sitting by the 
 Bishop's Well, dark and sorrowful, as well 
 she may be. The poor old man, ISTeil, is dead. 
 They dragged him as far as Devizes, where 
 the lamp that has burned so faintly for the 
 last two years went out, and the poor girl has 
 found her way back hither. Something must 
 be done for her, Annie ; and till we can settle 
 what, she must stay here. I left Langan with 
 her to bring her up ; so see to her comfort, 
 sister, for by her dress I think they must have 
 robbed her by the way." 
 
 "Poor child!" cried Anne Walton. "I 
 was sure the old man would die. Can these 
 
 be really Christians, Charles ; for a few rash 
 
 F 2
 
 Do ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 words, spoken in haste, to take a man of 
 seventy from his sickbed?" 
 
 " His words meant more than they seemed, 
 Annie," answered her brother ; " at least so I 
 gather from their answer to my application 
 for his release : but see to her comfort, 
 dear girl, and then come back to us, for 
 the poor thing spoke of some evil hanging 
 over me here ; and, though at times so 
 strange, I have often remarked she speaks 
 not lightly." 
 
 "No, indeed, Charles," replied his sister, 
 with an anxious look. " Evil hanging over 
 you ? What can she mean ?" 
 
 " I know not, Annie," replied Lord Walton. 
 " Nothing has happened to cause you alarm, 
 has there ?" 
 
 *' Nothing," she answered. " Dry, of Long- 
 soaken, was here this morning, but he was all 
 smoothness and civility." 
 
 "That looks ill," said Sir Francis Clare. 
 " He must be a roundhead by his name ; and
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 69 
 
 whenever they speak smoothly, beware of the 
 serpent in the grass." 
 
 " And he is a serpent, if ever the earth pro- 
 duced one," answered Lord Walton, thought- 
 fully. " Did he speak smoothly and civilly ? — 
 So, so. What was the object of his visit, 
 Annie — or had he any apparent object?" 
 
 " Purely, it seemed," replied Miss Walton, 
 " to ask after my health, during what he 
 called your long absence. I told him your 
 absence had not been long — only a week ; and 
 that you had already concluded your business 
 with the committee, and would return to-day. 
 So then he left that paper with me, which he 
 said must be mai'row and fatness to all well- 
 disposed noblemen like yourself. But, indeed, 
 he seemed well affected towards you, and said, 
 I now recollect, something about the people 
 of Bishop's Merton having encroached upon 
 your land at Sarham, which he should be 
 happy to set right for you, and which he 
 could do, if you pleased, without your name
 
 70 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 appearing in tlie matter, so as not to affect 
 your popularity with the God-fearing people 
 of the place." 
 
 " Where did he learn I ever feared to have 
 my name apj)ear in any act I did?" asked 
 Charles Walton, proudly. " ' Tis but such low 
 and creeping things as he is, who do things 
 they dare not own. He had some other ob- 
 ject — this is all a pretence ! But go, dear 
 Annie, there is Langan with the poor girl ; 
 perhaps she will tell you more than she would 
 say to me — but do not press her, Annie, if she 
 be unwilling. — And now, Francis," he con- 
 tinued, as his sister left the room, " first, v/el- 
 come, after so long an absence ; next, what is 
 this serious business that you would speak 
 with me upon?" 
 
 " Faith, but a little matter as this world 
 goes," replied his friend ; " and yet one which 
 would have been considered mighty some ten 
 years ago. Now men draw two straws for 
 the longest, or toss up a crown-piece to know
 
 TIMES OF OLD, 71 
 
 which party they will choose, whether they 
 will fight for their rightful king or his rebel 
 parliament " 
 
 " Not quite so, Francis," replied Charles 
 Walton, seriously : " with me, at least, the 
 question would ever be a serious one — whe- 
 ther I should draw my sword for the repre- 
 sentatives of the people of England, when 
 fighting for the just liberties of the land, or 
 for a sovereign who has somewhat infringed 
 them ? — even if the case stood exactly as the 
 parliament puts it, but 
 
 " I am glad you have added those words, 
 Charles," interrupted the cavalier : " for on 
 them hangs all the rest. The king is willing 
 to do ample justice to all men. Granted that 
 he has committed faults — and who has greater 
 cause to complain than I have ? — granted that 
 he has had bad advisers — granted that he 
 sacrificed Strafibrd " 
 
 " A terrible fault indeed," replied Lord 
 Walton.
 
 72 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 " Granted that liis exactions were unjust — 
 sMp-money a breach of the best and soundest 
 laws — the star-chamber an miquitous tyranny ; 
 still these errors were a part of his inheri- 
 tance, and perhaps if we looked closely, we 
 should find that our fathers who suffered, and 
 by suffering encouraged such things, who 
 fawned upon the hand that pressed them to 
 the ground, who bowed readily to tyranny 
 whenever it stretched forth its rod, have as 
 great a share of the responsibility as he has 
 who only used the powers transmitted to him 
 by his predecessors. But I come not to dis- 
 cuss such questions, Charles Walton. The 
 king has committed errors ; he grieves for 
 them, he is ready to repair them — he has 
 done all that man can do to remedy evils 
 past, and provide security against their re- 
 occurrence. He calls upon every loyal sub- 
 ject to aid him, not only in defending the 
 throne itself, but the country, from those who 
 would evidently shake its constitution to the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 73 
 
 ground, overthrow its best institutions, and 
 establish, if not the reign of anarchy, the 
 rule of a many-headed monster, which will, if 
 tolerated, end in a despotism more terrible 
 than any we have yet seen within the land. 
 And will Charles Walton, gallant and chival- 
 rous as he is known to be — will he refuse to 
 obey that call ? Or is he, who was wont to be 
 so clear sighted and so keen, one of those who 
 believe that the pretences of the parliament 
 are true — that they seek but to reduce the 
 power of the crown within due limits, to lop 
 the prerogative of those branches that bore 
 oppression, and secure the freedom of the 
 people, yet leave the stability of the throne ? 
 Or does he approve of hypocritical pretexts 
 even to gain just ends? No, no! I know 
 him better." 
 
 " Certainly,'* replied the young nobleman ; 
 " I neither approve the practices, nor believe 
 the pretences of the parliament. But I have 
 hitherto trusted, my dear friend, though they
 
 74 AREAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 may be now intoxicated with authority, the 
 exercise of which is new to them, and in their 
 pride may encroach upon both the prerogative 
 of the crown and the liberty of the subject — 
 for I can conceive a parliament to become a 
 more terrible tyrant than even a monarch — 
 yet I say, I have trusted that the wiser and the 
 better members of that body will recover from 
 the drunkenness that some have felt, and the 
 fears that have affected others ; and that, at all 
 events, if any dangerous and outrageous exer- 
 cise of power should take place, those who 
 have never favoured the arbitrary use of the 
 royal prerogative, or the licentious exactions 
 of the commons, may have sufficient weight to 
 ■counterbalance that authority which is but 
 delegated by the people, and which the people 
 can again resume." 
 
 " Fatal confidence," exclaimed the cavalier, 
 with a dark and melancholy look, " which 
 never has been, never will be justified ! Yet 
 it is one that in all civil strifes many wise and
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 75 
 
 many good men have entertained, till they 
 discovered, when too late, how cruelly they 
 had deceived themselves ; till, hanging be- 
 tween two parties and supporting neither, 
 they saw the one sink lower and lower, and 
 the other, which perhaps they most con- 
 demned, rise into power, and go on in evil ; 
 and then, when they strove to arrest the 
 course of wrong, found themselves either car- 
 ried away by the current and involved in 
 wickedness they would fain have opposed, or 
 sunk beneath the torrent with those who en- 
 deavoured to divert it while it was yet feeble, 
 and whose efforts they might have rendered 
 successful, had they joined therein in time. 
 Let me tell you, Charles, that in the history of 
 all contentions such as those that now shake 
 the land, there is a time when the balance of 
 sincerity and right is clearly on one side, and 
 that it is then true lovers of their country 
 should step in with their whole strength to 
 turn the balance of power on that side also.
 
 76 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 There is such a time believe me ; and now is 
 the moment !" 
 
 '^Perhaps it is," answered Lord Walton, 
 thoughtfully. " I said, my friend, that I had 
 hitherto felt the impressions I described. I 
 did not deny that they are somewhat shaken, 
 perhaps more than I believe." 
 
 " When that time has come," continued the 
 cavalier, without appearing to mark his reply, 
 *' it is the duty of every man to ask himself, on 
 which side is now the right ? on which side 
 is now the danger? and, casting away the 
 memory of old faults and old grievances, to 
 choose boldly and conscientiously between the 
 two. If he choose well, it will be easy for 
 him at any after time to guard against a re- 
 newal of errors on the part of those whom he 
 supports ; but if, from any fear of such a 
 renewal, he turn to the side which he knows 
 to be acting amiss, he commits himself for 
 ever to the errors he supports, and can never 
 hope to stop their course, or avert their con-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 77 
 
 sequences. What I ask you then to do is, — to 
 choose ! I say not, join the king : I say not, 
 oppose the parliament : I merely say, lay your 
 hand upon your heart, forgetting mistakes 
 that are past ; ask yourself, which is now 
 right, and which is now wrong ; and choose as 
 your conscience may direct." 
 
 Lord Walton paused for a few moments in 
 deep thought ; then giving his hand to his 
 friend, he said, " I will ! Ask me no more at 
 present, Francis ; nor inquire whether, when 
 I say / will, I might not say / have. Reso- 
 lutions such as these had better be spoken of 
 as little as possible till they can be executed. 
 Stay till to-morrow morning: then back to 
 the king. Your further presence here might 
 be dangerous to yourself, and hurtful to your 
 cause. And now to other things : how long 
 had you been here before I came ?" 
 
 " Long enough to find it a dangerous abode, 
 good friend," replied the cavalier. " In truth, 
 Walton, if you have not got an angel here, you
 
 78 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 have what is more like one than anything my 
 eyes have yet seen." 
 
 " Oh ! I know your gallant speeches," an- 
 swered Charles Walton, with a laugh, his face 
 losing the grave cast which was habitual to it, 
 and brightening with cheerful light ; " but 
 Annie is well accustomed to hear sweet things, 
 and I fear not the effect of high-flown south- 
 ern compliments on her little heart, which, 
 however gentle, is firm enough to stand a 
 longer siege than any you will have time to 
 give it. But," he added, while his brow grew 
 sad again, " I will own to you, Francis, it is her 
 future fate that in these troublous times half 
 makes a coward of me ; and, though knowing 
 what is right, that will I do ; yet there is a 
 hesitating fear within me, lest, in the course I 
 am destined to pursue, I may bring down 
 sorrow and misfortune upon that bright, kind 
 being, who has been ever my sunshine and my 
 hope." 
 
 " I can feel that it must be so, Charles,"
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 79 
 
 replied his friend, gravely. " Had I a sister 
 such as that, it would be so with me. Therein 
 I can do little to console, and perhaps less to 
 counsel or to help you. But yet, Charles 
 Walton, you know I am something of the 
 ancient knight : my sword and my heart for 
 my king and my fair lady ; and without any 
 rash promising of love for one whom I have 
 only known an hour, — such as one-half of our 
 gay courtiers would make, — I give you my 
 word, that whatever befalls you, so long as 
 life and strength last, my next thought, after 
 my duty to God and my sovereign, shall be to 
 care for the protection and safety of my friend's 
 sister." 
 
 Lord Walton smiled, with a look in which 
 pleasure and grief were strangely blended, but 
 he replied nothing, merely once more pressing 
 Clare's hand. 
 
 " Why do you smile, Charles ?" asked the 
 cavalier. " Is it that you think me too young, 
 too light, too gay, to take such a task upon
 
 80 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 myself? My honour, my regard, you do not 
 doubt, I know ; and as for the rest, these are 
 days when the old times of chivalry must re- 
 vive, or the sun will set in darkness indeed ; 
 and in those ancient periods men, young as I 
 am, have, with a holy devotion, been the safe- 
 guards and protectors of dames well nigh as 
 fair and bright as this, if we may believe the 
 sales we read," 
 
 "But those tales still ended in a marriage, 
 Francis," said Lord Walton. 
 
 " Well there let it !" cried the cavalier, 
 gaily. " Here I dedicate my heart and sword 
 to her. Those bright eyes shall be my load- 
 stars on the road to glory, her smile give 
 double vigour to my arm, and fresh sharpness 
 to my lance. There, Walton, is not that the 
 true Orlando ? But seriously, what meant 
 your somewhat rueful smile just now? Was 
 it that you thought the gay youth of former 
 days but little fit to supply a brother's place in 
 time of need ; or, perhaps, still less, to take a
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 81 
 
 husband's duties on him, if fate and circum- 
 stances should draw your sister's heart to- 
 wards him? But let me tell you, Charles, 
 that half of the lightness was the cover of 
 deep and painful thoughts ; and, besides, these 
 are times that make even the thoughtless 
 think ; and when I buckled me to the cause I 
 serve, I cast away and left in foreign lands all 
 but the higher purposes of the heart." 
 
 '*No, no, Francis," rej^lied Lord Walton, 
 interrupting him ; " it was neither doubt, nor 
 fear, nor mockery, that made me smile. You 
 do not suppose that, did I not know and see 
 all that is noble and generous in your nature, 
 and bright and keen in your mind, I would 
 not have taken you to my heart as I have 
 done. That there might be some weeds in 
 the garden I will not deny; but they were 
 only such as an hour's labour would pluck out 
 with ease, or such as would wither away under 
 the first hot sun, and leave the flowers and fruit 
 behind uninjured. I smiled but to remember 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 that some five years ago, when we were both 
 in happier days than these, I often thought that 
 I would gladly give my Annie to my early 
 friend, but little dreamed that times might 
 come when he himself would offer, ere he had 
 seen her twice, to be her defender and pro- 
 tector in case of her brother's death : and who 
 shall say, Francis, how soon such loss may 
 call for such support? But here she comes 
 again ; let us say no more of this ; but I 
 thank you, thank you from my heart for all 
 you promise. I know right well that pro- 
 mise will be kept, if it cost your last drop of 
 blood." 
 
 The faces of both gentlemen were grave 
 when Annie Walton joined them, and on hers, 
 too, there were traces of some tears. 
 
 " Poor Arrah Neil !" she said, " hers indeed 
 has been a hard fate. She has made me weep 
 with the tale of the old man's sufferino-s. so 
 mildly and so sweetly did she tell it. But I 
 could obtain no further information in regard
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 83 
 
 to the danger she apprehended might befall 
 you, Charles ; and I cannot but think that her 
 words were spoken in one of those strange, 
 dreamy moods, that sometimes fall upon her." 
 
 " I think so too," answered Lord Walton ; 
 " at least it may be so. Where have you 
 lodged her, Annie ?" 
 
 "She is with good Dame Rachael now," 
 answered his sister; "but to-night she is to 
 have the little room near the west tower, and 
 to-morrow you must tell me more of your 
 plans for her, Charles." 
 
 " I will, I will," replied Lord Walton, " to- 
 morrow; — ay, to-morrow — " and he fell into 
 thought, without concluding the sentence. 
 
 The evening passed more cheerfully than 
 
 the conversation which has been detailed 
 
 seemed to promise. All were anxious to 
 
 snatch a few hours from the gloomy thoughts 
 
 that hung over the times, and few allusions 
 
 were made to the circumstances of the day ; 
 
 but any other subject, which minds full of 
 G 2
 
 84 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 rich stores could produce, was chosen, as if to 
 exclude more somhre topics. From time to 
 time, indeed, both Annie Walton and their 
 new companion would for a moment or two 
 look grave and sad, as some passing cloud of 
 thought swept over them ; but the young lord, 
 whose power over himself was great, kept the 
 same even tenor, not gay, for such was not his 
 disposition ; not gloomy or meditative, for he 
 did not choose to be so, but calm and easy, 
 conversing without apparent effort on a thou- 
 sand varied things, and never for an instant 
 showing the least absence or forgetfulness. 
 Yet, perhaps, all felt that there were dangers 
 and disasters abroad on every side, though 
 they sat there as a cheerful party, with the 
 windows of the heart closed against the storm 
 that rao-ed without. 
 
 o 
 
 There was but one moment when a shadow 
 seemed to fall upon all, and that too was pro- 
 duced by a song. Charles Walton had asked 
 his sister to sing before they parted for the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 85 
 
 night; and after some thouglit, seeking in 
 vain for a livelier strain, slie chose — perhaps 
 from the irrepressible anxieties of her own 
 heart — a little ballad, which had been a 
 favourite of her mother's, to the following 
 effect : — 
 
 THE SONG. 
 
 " Hope sung a song of future years, 
 
 Replete with sunny hours; 
 "When present sorrow's dew-like tears, 
 
 Should all be hid in flowers. 
 
 " But ^lemory backward turned her eyes, 
 
 And taught the heart to fear 
 More stormy clouds, more angry skies, 
 
 With each succeeding year. 
 
 " But still Hope sung, as by that voice 
 
 Such warnings sad were given, 
 In louder strains bade youth rejoice, 
 
 And age look on to heaven." 
 
 Each kept silence for a minute or two after 
 the song was done, and each gave a sigh ; but
 
 86 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 then the cavalier would fain have persuaded 
 Miss Walton to sing again, for her voice was 
 one of those, full of native music, which the 
 ear longs for when once heard, as the weary- 
 heart of manhood thirsts to taste again the 
 fearless joys of infancy. But she declined, 
 saying she was somewhat weary ; and shortly 
 after the little party separated for the night. 
 
 Charles Walton shook his friend's hand 
 warmly as they parted, at a yet early hour, 
 and adding to the good-night, " We will speak 
 more before you go to-morrow," he himself 
 retired to his chamber to pass several hours 
 in meditation ere he lay down to rest. 
 
 As soon as he was alone, the young lord 
 sent away a servant who was waiting for him, 
 and then leaned his head upon his hand for 
 some ten minutes without moving. At length 
 he raised his eyes to a heavy sword that hung 
 above the old carved mantel-piece, rose, took 
 it down, drew it from the sheath, and gazed 
 upon the blade. There were some dents and
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 87 
 
 notclies ill the edge ; and saying- in a low tone, 
 " It has done good service — it may do more," 
 he thrust it back again, and hung it up as 
 before. 
 
 "I will go to my cabinet and write two 
 lines to the king," he added, after a short 
 pause ; but then again he stopped, and medi- 
 tated, murmuring, " no, it were better not to 
 write ; such documents are dangerous. I will 
 send a message. I see they susj^ect me al- 
 ready. It were as well to destroy the com- 
 mission and those other papers — and, if at all, 
 at once. I will do it now. — What is the 
 matter ?" he continued, as some one knocked 
 at the door. 
 
 " Charles, Charles," cried his sister, coming 
 into the room ; and as he sprang to meet her, 
 he saw that her face was very pale. 
 
 " There is a terrible smoke," she exclaimed, 
 " and a rushing sound like fire." 
 
 " Where, where ?" asked her brother, eagerly 
 hurrying towards the door.
 
 88 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 " In the corridor, beyond my room," an- 
 swered Annie, " towards the west wing. Oh, 
 bid them ring the alarm-bell !" 
 
 " On no account, on no account !" cried her 
 brother, darting out. " Call all the servants, 
 Annie. Run, Alice," he continued to one of 
 his sister's maids, who had followed her, pale 
 and trembling, " send Hugh and Roger here, 
 and then call the rest. — Smoke, indeed ! There 
 is fire somewhere ! Quick, girl, quick ! Go 
 back, my Annie, and dress yourself again. I 
 will soon tell you more." And thus saying, 
 he hurried on through the wide gallery, upon 
 which the door of his bed-room opened, and 
 then along the corridor beyond. 
 
 The smoke grew thicker at each step he 
 took ; the crackling and rushing sound of fire 
 soon became audible, and then a fitful flash 
 broke across the obscurity, like that of a 
 signal-gun seen through a heavy mist. 
 
 In a minute he was at a large door which 
 closed the end of the corridor, and through
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 89 
 
 the neighbouring* window lie could see the 
 projection of one of the flanking towers, with 
 a small loop-hole showing a red glare within. 
 
 " Here is the fire," he cried, " in my own 
 cabinet ! How can this have happened ?" and 
 he laid his hand upon the latch. The door 
 was locked. He tried to turn the key, but it 
 was embarrassed. " Bring me an axe !" he 
 exclaimed, hearing some of the servants fol- 
 lowing him rapidly. " Bring me an axe 
 directly ! — quick, quick ! — all the papers will 
 be burned," and again he tried to turn the key. 
 
 " The charter chests were removed, my lord, 
 to the next room," said the good servant Lan- 
 gan. " I moved them myself by your own 
 order, just before we went, that the floor might 
 be repaired." 
 
 The young lord laid his hand upon his brow 
 for an instant, and then said, "Let the rest 
 perish then ! — It is no matter ;" and just as he 
 spoke, the alarm-bell rang loud and long. 
 
 " What fool has done that ?" exclaimed
 
 90 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 Charles Walton. " Ah ! Francis, is that you V* 
 he continued, speaking to Sir Francis Clare, 
 who was up and following him fully dressed, 
 " A word in your ear : mount your horse 
 quickly and begone," he whispered. " We 
 shall have all the country on us in half an 
 hour. See, there are some twenty on the 
 terrace already. Langan, here — go the round 
 with this gentleman to the stables by the back 
 way, then through the wood with him till he 
 is beyond the grounds. Francis, say I am 
 determined!" he added again, lowering his 
 voice. " You shall see me soon. — Away, 
 away, good friend ! You know not the people 
 here." 
 
 By this time servants were hurrying up 
 with buckets of water, and with axes to break 
 down the door ; but before he suffered that to 
 be done, Lord Walton turned to one of those 
 behind, saying, " See to poor Arrah Neil ; she 
 is in the chamber just beneath us. Take her 
 to your lady's room. Now, Roger, you and
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 91 
 
 Dick move out the chests from the place 
 where Langan says he put them. Take them 
 down to the terrace; but set some one to 
 watch them. Hark ! there is something fallen 
 within." 
 
 " The great case of books, my lord, by the 
 sound," said oife of the men. 
 
 " Now give me an axe," cried the young 
 nobleman, and with a few blows he dashed 
 the lock off the door, and pushed it open, 
 bidding the men throw in the water as he 
 did so. 
 
 Out burst the flames and smoke, however, 
 as soon as the obstruction was removed, with 
 such fury, that all were forced to run back ; 
 and as it somewhat cleared away, the frightful 
 scene of destruction that the interior of the 
 tower displayed, too plainly showed there was 
 no possibility left of saving that part of the 
 building. 
 
 " Now, my good men," cried the young 
 lord, " let as many as can find buckets, keep
 
 92 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 pouring on the water. The others help me to 
 cut away the woodwork between the tower 
 and the rest. Some of you run up to the 
 corridor above, break down the panelling, and 
 throw it back, away from the flames. Fear 
 not, but at all risks cut off the tower from the 
 rest of the house. Call some' of those men 
 up from below. Why do they stand idle 
 there ?" 
 
 The scene of hurry and confusion that suc- 
 ceeded can be imagined by those who have 
 witnessed the consternation produced by a fire 
 in a rural district, where few of those means 
 and appliances which in great towns exist in 
 plenty, but often are found ineffectual even 
 there, are to be met with at all. To prevent the 
 flames from extending to the rest of that wing- 
 was found impossible, notwithstanding all the 
 efforts of the noble master of the mansion, 
 and the strenuous exertions of his servants, 
 who speedily recovered from the first confu- 
 sion of surprise, and recollected the old mili-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 93 
 
 tary habits which they had acquired in former 
 days. The tenantry, too, who flocked up at 
 the sound of the alarm-bell, gave eager but 
 not very efficient help, as well as a number of 
 the townsfolk ; but still the fire gained ground, 
 extended from the tower to the rooms in the 
 wing, ran along the cornices, caught the 
 beams, and threatened the whole building with 
 destruction, when a tall, grave stranger, in a 
 black cloak and hat walked calmly up to Lord 
 Walton, who had come down to the terrace to 
 give directions to the people below, and said 
 in a low tone — 
 
 " A few pounds of gunpowder, my lord, and 
 a linen bag laid above that doorway, and 
 under the coping-stone, will separate the fire 
 from the building. The stone passage cuts it 
 off below ; there is but a narrow gallery above, 
 and if you can but break up the corridor — " 
 
 *' I see ! I see !" cried Lord Walton. 
 "Thanks, sir, thanks. Run, Hugh, to the 
 armoury ; you will find some powder there."
 
 94 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 "I beg, sir, that I may be permitted to 
 make the saucisson," cried a tall man in flaunt- 
 ing apparel. " At the celebrated siege of Ro- 
 chelle I constructed the famous petard where- 
 with we blew in the — " 
 
 " I thank you, sir," replied the master of 
 the mansion, looking at the person who ad- 
 dressed him from head to foot with a quick 
 but marking gaze, " I will make it myself ;" 
 and without farther notice he proceeded to 
 give the necessary orders, and to take precau- 
 tions both to insure the safety of all persons 
 near, and to guard the building as much as 
 possible from damage by the explosion. 
 
 When all was ready he went into the house 
 to bring his sister forth, lest by any chance 
 the rooms in which she had hitherto remained 
 should be shaken more than he expected ; 
 and then, after having placed her at a distance, 
 he himself fired the train, which being uncon- 
 fined, except at one part, carried the flame in 
 an instant to the bag of powder, causing it to
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 95 
 
 explode with a tremendous roar. A quantity 
 of brick- work was thrown into the air ; the 
 gallery above fell in the moment after ; and 
 then, after a short pause, a tall, neighbouring 
 tower between the place where the powder had 
 taken effect, and that where the fire was raging, 
 bulged out about half way up, and then rushed 
 down, strewing the terrace with a mass of 
 broken ruins. 
 
 In the anxiety and excitement of the mo- 
 ment, Lord Walton had observed little but 
 what was passing immediately before him ; 
 but as he marked the effect and was turning 
 round to look for his sister, in order to tell 
 her that the rest of the mansion was saved, 
 the stranger in black who had spoken to him 
 before, once more addressed him in a low 
 voice, saying — 
 
 " You had better look to those chests, my 
 lord ; Colonel Thistleton is eyeing them some- 
 what curiously. As for me, I will wish you 
 good-night ; I love not the neighbourhood of
 
 96 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 parliamentary commissioners ; but if you want 
 good help at need, which perhaps may be the 
 case soon, you have only to send a trusty 
 servant to inquire for Martin Randal at Wa- 
 terbourne, ten miles hence, and you will have 
 fifty troopers with you in two hours." 
 
 " I understand ! I understand, major," re- 
 plied Lord Walton. " God speed you, with 
 my best thanks. — Colonel Thistleton ! What 
 came he here for ?" 
 
 " No good," replied Randal, walking away 
 and beckoning to his tall companion, who 
 followed him with a pompous stride, "while 
 Lord Walton turned towards the spot to 
 which he had directed his attention. He there 
 perceived, for the first time, three men on 
 horseback, and one who had dismounted and 
 was speaking with a servant who had been 
 laced to watch the two large chests of papers 
 which had been removed from the wing of 
 the building. 
 
 As Lord Walton gazed at him, he stooped
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 97 
 
 down once more to look at the chests with a 
 curious and inquiring eye ; and striding- up to 
 him at once, the young nobleman demanded, 
 in a stern tone — 
 
 " Who are you, sir ? and what do you want 
 with those cases ?" 
 
 *' My name, my lord, is Thistleton," replied 
 the other ; " a poor colonel, by the permission 
 of Providence, in the service of the parliament 
 of England; and when matters are a little 
 more composed, I will inform your lordship, 
 as my errand is with you, what excited my 
 curiosity in regard to these cumbrous pack-, 
 ages." 
 
 "Oh! Colonel Thistleton! That is a different 
 affair," answered Lord Walton. " As soon as 
 I have ascertained that all further danger of 
 the fire spreading is past, I will have the 
 honour of entertaining you, as far as my 
 poor house, half destroyed as it is, will 
 admit." 
 
 The parliamentary colonel bowed gravely 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 and the young nobleman then proceeded to 
 give further directions to his people, mingling 
 with commands respecting the fire and the 
 security of the rest of the mansion, sundry 
 orders spoken in a low tone to those servants 
 on whom he could most rely, and to some of 
 his principal tenants. 
 
 When he had assured himself that all was 
 safe, and had set a watch, he returned to his 
 sister's side, and led her back to the house, 
 whispering as he went — 
 
 " Keep two of your maids with you in your 
 chamber to-night, Annie. See to poor Arrah 
 Neil ; and at dawn to-morrow, dear girl, make 
 preparations for a journey. Ask no questions, 
 sweet sister, but pack up all that you most 
 value — all trinkets, jewels, gold and silver, for 
 we may, perhaps, have to go far." 
 
 Annie Walton gazed at him with a look of 
 sorrowful, half- bewildered inquiry ; but he 
 added — "I cannot explain now, dear one; I 
 will tell you more to-morrow ;" and she fol-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 99 
 
 lowed him silently into tlie house, where he 
 left her, and at once went back to show as 
 much courtesy to Colonel Thistleton and his 
 companions as the feelings of his heart would 
 permit. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 ABRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 " This is a lamentable and very sad visitation, 
 my lord," said Colonel Thistleton, as soon as 
 he was seated with two companions in the 
 large room we have before described. 
 
 " It is indeed, colonel," replied Lord Wal- 
 ton, " and will cost me at least ten thousand 
 pounds to repair ; so that I hope you have not 
 come for anything like a benevolence, such as 
 our kings of old used sometimes to levy upon 
 their subjects, for I could ill spare one to the 
 honourable house just now Lagan," he con- 
 tinued to the servant who appeared at the 
 door, *' have wine and meat set out in the 
 hall. We shall all want refreshment."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 101 
 
 " No, my lord," replied Colonel Tliistleton, 
 with some degree of hesitation ; " the houses 
 of parliament resort to no illegal and unjusti- 
 fiable acts of taxation. Labouring but for the 
 defence of themselves, of the king's person, 
 and the liberty and laws of the kingdom, they 
 take care to abide by the true rights and 
 customs of the country ; but at the same time, 
 my lord, they think it but proper and neces- 
 sary, as well for the safety of the state as for 
 the exculpation of persons unjustly accused, 
 to inquire into and examine, either by the 
 judges appointed by law — or by a committee 
 of their own body, where any highly honour- 
 able and devout person is subjected to calumny 
 — into all charges of resistance to the authority 
 of the two houses, or of conspiracy for the 
 purpose of levying war and farther endanger- 
 ing the condition of the poor distracted realm." 
 
 The colour somewhat increased in Lord 
 Walton's cheek, but without pause he replied, 
 gravely —
 
 102 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 " They are quite right, sir ; and if, as I 
 gather from what you say, you are come into 
 this part of the country upon such an errand, 
 you will find me very ready and willing to 
 give you every assistance in my power." 
 
 Now the commission which Colonel Thistle- 
 ton had to perform was of a nature somewhat 
 delicate ; for the demeanour of the Walton 
 family, at the first resistance shown to the 
 arbitrary proceedings of the court, had been 
 favourable to the views of general freedom, 
 which were then alone apparent on the side 
 of the parliament ; and though it had become 
 evident that the young lord had grown cold 
 as they stretched their pretensions, and had 
 even remonstrated against several of their 
 proceedings, yet his course had not been so 
 decided as to cut off all hope of attaching 
 him to the party favourable to resistance of 
 the royal authority by arms, while the task 
 that the worthy committee-man was charged 
 to execute was one likely to alienate him for
 
 TIMES OF OLD, 103 
 
 ever, if tlie grounds for suspicion were found 
 unreasonable. However, lie was a skilful 
 man, ever ready to take advantage of oppor- 
 tunity, and he therefore replied — 
 
 " I was quite sure, my lord, that we should 
 find every readiness in your lordship. We 
 have, indeed, the unpleasant duty to perform 
 (which I trust we shall do discreetly), of in- 
 vestigating charges against a number of per- 
 sons in this country; but as it is advisable 
 that those in whose affection and loyalty we 
 have the utmost confidence, should set an ex- 
 ample to others against whom there is just 
 cause of suspicion, it is as well that I should 
 inform your lordship that not long since, at 
 Chippenham, a false and calumnious accusa- 
 tion was made against you to our worthy 
 brother, Dr. Bastwick, here present " 
 
 " Of which I do not credit a word," added 
 the doctor. 
 
 " Charging you with countenancing the 
 cruel preparations for war made by the king
 
 104 ARRAH neil; or, 
 
 ag-ainst his loyal subjects, and witli having 
 entered into correspondence with his majesty, 
 and received a commission under his hand to 
 levy horse against the honourable houses." 
 
 He paused, as if for a reply, and Lord 
 Walton, with a frowning brow and flushed 
 cheek, ansv^ered — 
 
 " So, sir, I am to suppose, in short, that 
 you have come hither to examine my house, 
 and search for the correspondence you speak 
 of?" 
 
 " Exactly, sir," replied a less prudent mem- 
 ber of the committee named Batten ; but 
 Thistleton cut him short by adding — " We 
 were perfectly sure that your lordship, whose 
 family have always been godly and well dis- 
 posed, would rejoice at an opportunity of 
 showing the world how readily you would 
 submit to the authority of parliament, and 
 clear yourself of all false and unjust re- 
 proaches." 
 
 " Should such reproaches against a person
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 105 
 
 of such a cliaracter be listened to for a mo- 
 ment?" asked the young* nobleman ; " and on 
 my word, gentlemen," he added, " you are 
 somewhat bold men to venture on the task." 
 
 " IN'ot so bold as you give us credit for, my 
 lord," replied Batten, taking once more the 
 reply out of Thistleton's mouth ; " there is a 
 troop of horse under your park wall." 
 
 " Then it seems," rejoined Lord Walton, 
 " that you did not really calculate upon such 
 unresisting submission as you affected to ex- 
 pect at first. I must, of course, yield to force. 
 However," he continued with a smile, " I am 
 certainly not prepared to resist, even if I were 
 willing." 
 
 *' That want of preparation shows your 
 lordship to be innocent," answered the cau- 
 tious Thistleton, — " a point upon which I have 
 no doubt. It was judged necessary to insti- 
 tute inquiries into all cases of malignant re- 
 sistance to the authority of parliament in this 
 country ; and it was to meet any opposition in
 
 106 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 sucli instances tliat the troop of horse was 
 sent, not against your lordship, of whose con- 
 duct we are quite sure, though we thought it 
 would show unrighteous partiality if we did 
 not in some way notice the charges made 
 against you " 
 
 *' Charges made upon oath, be it remarked," 
 said Dr. Bastwick. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," rejoined Lord Walton, 
 " it is useless to discuss this question farther. 
 I will even take it for granted that you have 
 due warrant for your proceeding, and merely 
 ask what you intend to do next ?" 
 
 " Why the fact is this, my very good lord," 
 replied Thistleton ; " the information stated 
 that we should find the papers in question in 
 the west tower, in a chamber used by your 
 lordship as a cabinet or writing room, on the 
 first floor from the ground. Now, I was in- 
 formed but now, that two large chests which 
 I saw on the terrace without, contained 
 writings of value, which had just been re-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 107 
 
 moved from the fire. It would be satisfactory 
 to us to look into those cases." 
 
 " Surely not to-night," said the young no- 
 bleman. 
 
 " I think it would be expedient," said 
 Thistleton. 
 
 " It would prevent evil surmises," added 
 Bastwick. 
 
 " No time like the present," cried Batten. 
 " The king's commission might be gone before 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " The keys, I fear, have been lost in the 
 fire," answered Lord Walton, giving him a 
 look of contempt. 
 
 " They will be easily broken open," replied 
 Batten. 
 
 " I may not exactly like to have all my 
 papers left open to the world," said the young 
 nobleman, gravely ; " but having now clearly 
 ascertained how far the suspicions of the par- 
 liament really go, I will make no farther 
 objection. But I give you all notice, that I
 
 108 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 protest against this act ; and that when next I 
 take my place amongst the peers of England, 
 I will move for an inquiry into the whole 
 
 proceeding • Without there, bring in 
 
 those cases of papers, and some instrument for 
 forcing open the locks." Thus saying, he 
 rose and, turning to the window, looked out 
 upon the terrace, which was still partially 
 illuminated by the fitful glare of the decaying 
 fire in the tower. 
 
 In a few minutes four stout servants ap- 
 peared carrying in the chests, and having re- 
 ceived orders to break them open, soon laid 
 the contents bare before the eager eyes of the 
 parliamentary commissioners. Great, how- 
 ever, was their disappointment to perceive 
 nothing on the top but old deeds and parch- 
 ments, with many a waxen seal pendent from 
 its broad ribbon. They were not so easily 
 satisfied, however, and proceeded to turn out 
 the whole contents, strewing the floor of the 
 saloon with yellow papers, while Lord Walton
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 109 
 
 spoke a few words to Langan, wlio left the 
 room. 
 
 " Well/gentlemen, are you satisfied ?" asked 
 the young nobleman at length, when the bot- 
 tom of each case was laid bare. " If so, the 
 ♦ servants shall replace the papers, and we will 
 to supper." 
 
 The committee whispered together for a 
 moment ere they replied, but Lord Walton 
 could catch the words " JN^o, no ! not now — 
 To-morrow at daybreak — There has evidently 
 been no preparation. — Have up the troo23 by 
 that time," and other broken sentences, which 
 evidently showed him that farther proceedings 
 were in contemplation. 
 
 " We will, my lord, put off any further per- 
 quisitions till to-morrow," Colonel Thistleton 
 replied at length, " upon your lordship pledg- 
 ing us your word of honour that you will not 
 leave the house, nor send out of it any jDaper 
 of any kind or sort whatsoever." 
 
 " I shall most assuredly leave the house,"
 
 110 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 replied Lord Walton, " for I am going in five 
 minutes to assure myself that the fire will 
 spread no farther. But if you mean that 
 I am not to absent myself, I have no inten- 
 tion of so doing, and will promise to stay and 
 entertain my unexpected guests as befits their 
 quality and commission : nor will I send hence 
 or make away with any paper, from the war- 
 rant of array directed by Henry II. to my an- 
 cestor, down to the cellar-book of the old but- 
 ler ; so now, sirs, to supper ; and let us forget 
 for the time all that is unpleasant in our 
 meeting. The day will come, and that before 
 the world is a week older, w*hen I will deal 
 with this matter in the proper place and in the 
 proper manner." 
 
 " Be that as you please, my lord," replied 
 Thistleton : " we doubt not we shall be justi- 
 fied. Myself and Dr. Bastwick will in the 
 mean time gladly accept your hospitality. Cap- 
 tain Batten, however, may be wanted with his 
 troop."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. Ill 
 
 " Nay !" cried the young lord, " it were a 
 pity to deprive yourselves of one of your most 
 able and active members. If Captain Batten 
 have any orders to give, he can send them in 
 writing. There lie paper and pens, and I re- 
 marked that he had a trooper without. My 
 wine is good, gentlemen, and venison is yet in 
 season." 
 
 " It will do as well to write," said Batten, 
 who, always ready to take his part in all that 
 was unpleasant, was not without inclination to 
 share in things more agreeable ; and proceed- 
 ing to the writing table in the window, he had 
 soon concocted a hasty note, which he carried 
 out himself, while the rest, with the owner 
 of the mansion, proceeded to the eating- 
 hall. 
 
 When the meal was over — and the com- 
 missioners did not spare it — Lord Walton 
 ordered them to be conducted to the rooms 
 prepared for them, and took leave, saying — 
 " To-morrow, gentlemen, at five, if you please.
 
 112 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 we will proceed to further business. In the 
 mean while, good-night." 
 
 The beds were soft and downy, the guests of 
 Lord Walton tired with the fatigues of the 
 preceding day, and it was somewhat later 
 than the hour appointed when the members of 
 the committee rose; and then, on looking 
 forth from his window. Captain Batten was 
 surprised and disappointed not to see his troop 
 of horse drawn up in the park, as he had 
 ordered them to muster there by half-past 
 four. His two companions were down before 
 him ; and he found them, with the noble owner 
 of the mansion, in the hall. Lord Walton im- 
 mediately signified in a grave tone that it 
 would be better to proceed on their search ; 
 but the task was sooner begun than ended, 
 for Bishop's Merton House, even in its dis- 
 membered state, was not easily examined from 
 one end to the other. Room after room was 
 ransacked, every article of furniture which 
 could be supposed to conceal papers was sub-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 113 
 
 jected to the perquisitions of the three com- 
 missioners; and it must be recollected that, 
 in those days, people had not multiplied the 
 luxuries and conveniences of life to such a 
 degree as scarcely to be able to turn amidst 
 the crowd of superfluities. Still nothing was 
 discovered ; for Lord Walton, though young, 
 was a man of regular habits, and his papers 
 were not all scattered over his dwelling, but 
 gathered regularly into one repository. 
 
 At length Colonel Thistleton, after having 
 twice passed through the corridor and gallery, 
 pointed to a door in the former, saying — " We 
 have omitted that room several times, my lord. 
 It may be necessary that we examine there, 
 merely for the sake of making our task com- 
 plete. You will understand me clearly, my 
 most honourable friend, that I am perfectly 
 satisfied, and indeed was so from the first ; 
 but we must be enabled to say that we 
 have not left any part of the mansion un- 
 seen." 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 The young nobleman heard him to the end, 
 and then replied gravely — 
 
 " Those are my sister's apartments, sir." 
 
 " Nevertheless, my lord," answered Dr. 
 Bastv/ick 
 
 But Lord Walton cut him short, with a 
 frowning brow and a flushed cheek. 
 
 *' There is no nevertheless, sir," he said. 
 ** Those are my sister's apartments — that is 
 enough : let me see the man that dares wag a 
 foot towards them." 
 
 " Nay, my good lord," cried Thistleton, in 
 a mild and deprecating tone, " v*- e mean no 
 offence. If the lady sleep we can wait her 
 waking. We need not go in now." 
 
 *'Nor*noY>^, nor never, sir," answered the 
 young nobleman sternly. "There are no 
 papers of mine there, of that I pledge my 
 honour. If that satisfies you, well." 
 
 ** But it does not, sir," cried Batten. 
 
 *'Then that is well also," answered Lord 
 Walton, turning av/ay with a look of scorn.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 115 
 
 Thistleton spoke a "svord to liis two com- 
 panions, and then followed the young noble- 
 man, exclaiming — 
 
 " My lord, my lord !" 
 
 " You speak loud, sir," rejoined Charles 
 Walton, walking on. "I will hear you in the 
 hall. Remember, there are people wdio can 
 sleep, despite of parliamentary committees." 
 
 " This is too insolent," whispered Batten. 
 " If you arrest him not. Master Thistleton, I 
 will." 
 
 , " Leave him to me," answered the colonel, 
 gravely. " A committee of the house must 
 not be bearded by the best man in the 
 realm. Leave him to me ;" and thus say- 
 ing, he followed the young lord down the 
 stairs. 
 
 When they were in the hall, in whicli were 
 several servants. Lord Walton paused in the 
 midst. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," he said, " what are your 
 further commands V 
 
 I 2
 
 116 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 " I have but to ask, my lord," demanded 
 Thistleton, " whether you are disposed to resist 
 the lawful authority of parliament ?" 
 
 " The unlawful exercise of authority it does 
 not possess, you mean," replied the peer. 
 " But not to cavil at words, sir — if I say I am, 
 what then ?" 
 
 " Why then I should be obliged to do that 
 which would be most unpleasant to me," 
 replied Colonel Thistleton. 
 
 " I rather think, however, that such must 
 be the result, sir," rejoined Charles Walton, 
 with a cold and indifferent air. 
 
 " I mean, sir, that I shall be compelled to 
 put you under some restraint," said Thistleton, 
 with an angry brow, " which must certainly be 
 done if " 
 
 "If I permit you," added Lord Walton, 
 seeing that he paused. " Colonel Thistleton, 
 you are mistaken," he continued, advancing 
 towards him. *' I arrest you, sir, for high 
 treason, in the king's name ! Give up your
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 117 
 
 sword !" and he laid his hand firmly on hi^ 
 shoulder. 
 
 Dr. Bastwick shrunk back, and looked to- 
 wards the door ; and, while the colour died 
 away in Batten's cheek, Thistleton shook off 
 the young lord's grasp, exclaiming — 
 
 " Call up the horse from the window. 
 Batten !" and as he spoke, he drew his 
 blade. 
 
 " They are not there !" answered Batten, 
 with shaking knees. 
 
 " 'No, sir, they are not there!" rejoined the 
 master of the mansion ; " those that are left 
 of them are now galloping hard to escape 
 Major Randal's keen riders. You may have 
 heard of his name, sir ; and it would be well 
 to put up your weapon and submit to what 
 cannot be avoided. Call in a party, Langan." 
 
 " Well, my lord," cried Thistleton, thrusting 
 back his sword into the scabbard, " this is a 
 most shameless breach of " 
 
 " Of what, sir ?" demanded Lord Walton.
 
 118 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 " You came hitlier upon an unsavoury errand. 
 You have attempted to cozen me from the 
 beginning. Without lawful power or au- 
 thority you have infringed upon the rights of 
 an Enghshman ; and I told you that I woukl 
 stay here to deal with my unexpected guests 
 as befitted their quahty and commission. But 
 mark me, Colonel Thistleton, had you been 
 modera-te and wise — had you carried on your 
 search with decency, you should have gone 
 from this house without hindrance or moles- 
 tation. I w^ould have remembered that I had 
 given the parliament no greater intimation of 
 my intentions than they have given me, and 
 treated you with civility and respect ; but you 
 have exceeded all propriety; you have pried 
 where no likelihood existed of finding; what 
 you sought; you have even expressed the 
 purpose of intruding on the privacy of my 
 sister's chamber. The measure is full, gen- 
 tlemen, and it is now too late. You are all 
 three prisoners under arrest; and it will be
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 119 
 
 for his majesty to determine the full extent of 
 your deserts. You see it is in vain to resist," 
 he added, pointing to the door, where stood a 
 party of soldiers fully armed. " Take them 
 back to their chambers, Langan ; suffer no 
 communication between them ; place a sentry 
 at each door, and then return to me." 
 
 The members of the committee looked dole- 
 fully in each other's faces, but they well saw 
 that what the young nobleman said was but 
 too true, regarding the uselessness of remon- 
 strance or opposition, and with bent heads and 
 dejected countenances they were led away.
 
 120 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Now, Roger Hartup," said the young lord, 
 as soon as the deputies were gone, " tell me 
 more of this news. You were with the party 
 it seems." 
 
 "Why, yes, my lord," replied a tall, long- 
 boned Wiltshire man, dressed in the full 
 colours of the house of Walton, with broad 
 sword by his side, and pistols in his belt ; 
 " Langan took me with him without saying 
 a word of where he was going. He told me 
 afterwards that he was obliged to come back 
 for fear your lordship should need him, and 
 that I was to stay with the major and his 
 troop, because I knew all the lanes and by-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 121 
 
 ways, and, moreover, loved playing with hand 
 and arm." 
 
 " It was well bethought," said his master ; 
 " they might need a guide." 
 
 " I don't know, my lord," replied the ser- 
 vant ; " but the captain of the troop seemed to 
 know all the hedge-rows, as if he had been 
 born among them. But as soon as Major 
 Randal had heard Langan's message, he gave 
 the order to muster, and be ready in an hour. 
 That was about half-past one, my lord, for we 
 had scattered the pebbles about as we went, I 
 warrant, and before half-past two, the troop 
 were in their saddles, and moving down at a 
 brisk trot by Lumley-lane, and then at a 
 canter, over the common. That brought us 
 to Hill-down, where all the folks were asleep, 
 and then we had three miles of high road to 
 Rushford. As we were crossing the brook, or 
 rather letting the horses drink, for the major 
 had a care to the beasts* mouths, it being a 
 hot night, we heard a trumpet sound Bishop's
 
 122 
 
 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 Merton way; so then he gave the order to 
 trot, and taking the cart road, we came upon 
 the edge of the meadows, where we could see 
 the road up to the house, and yet have shelter 
 of the alders ; and there we sat 'quite still till 
 we saw the Roundhead rascals coming up at 
 a walk, with a sort of animal at their head, 
 more like a chandler than a soldier, and be- 
 side him, Dry, of Longsoaken, on his grey 
 mare. When they got out clear upon the 
 meadow, old Dry pointed along towards the 
 bottom, and said something — we could not 
 hear what he said, but it was like as if he told 
 them — if you keep down that way, you '11 get 
 up to the house without being seen from the 
 windows. The major spoke never a word. 
 Indeed, he spoke very little all the time, but 
 let them go on till " 
 
 "Was Dry still with them?" asked his mas- 
 ter, interrupting his discourse. 
 
 "Lord bless your lordship, no," answered 
 the servant ; "he left them as soon as he had
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 123 
 
 pointed out the way, and trotted back. But 
 when they were half across the meadows, 
 about half a gun-shot from the alders, a 
 trumpeter's horse of ours smelt them out, 
 and, like an undrilled beast, thinking'his mas- 
 ter was somewhat long- in sounding the charge, 
 he began and neighed as loud as he could. 
 Thereupon, they halted, and began to look 
 about, as if a horse neighing w^as somewhat 
 wonderful ; and then the major gave the 
 word, and we were out from the alders in a 
 minute, and down upon them. Your lord- 
 ship has seen a plump of teal rise up from a 
 pond, and whirl away all in a sweep. Well, 
 four-fifths of them were round in a minute, 
 and longest legs won the day. About twenty 
 old fellows, with copper noses and steel caps, 
 stood their ground, however, and fired their 
 pistols at us, keeping altogether, and showing 
 broad sword. But we took to steel, too, and 
 they could not bide it, but broke ; and though 
 they fought better than I ever thought to see
 
 124 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 such crop-eared hounds fight, they were forced 
 to follow their fellows, though not before some 
 seven had tasted green turf, and had as much 
 of it as will serve them till the world's end. 
 Then we wheeled and followed the rest, cut- 
 ting them off from the town ; and, though 
 they rode hard, yet more than nine or ten had 
 cause to wish their spurs were better, till at 
 length, after having chased them back to 
 Rushford, the major sent our Captain Bare- 
 colt, with thirty men, to keep them going, 
 while he halted, and gave me ten to bring here, 
 saying, your lordship might need them." 
 
 " Then did Dry, of Longsoaken, fly with 
 them?" demanded his lord; "or did he run 
 back to the town V 
 
 " I doubt that he knew of the affair at all, 
 my lord," replied the man ; " he was far down 
 the lane before we charged. No trumpet was 
 blown for fear of bringing the militia men from 
 Bishop's Merton upon us, and the banks would 
 prevent him from seeing or hearing either."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 125 
 
 " Then we will strike a blow at him," said 
 Lord Walton. 
 
 The servant rubbed his hands and lauahed. 
 — "That will rejoice the cockles of many a 
 poor man's heart in Bishop's Merton," he 
 cried. " The old sanctified sinner is hated as 
 much as he is feared. Why he was the cause 
 of poor old Sergeant Neil being dragged away, 
 and killed with bad usage ; and I do believe 
 the boys would stone him on the green, if they 
 knew it, for he — the old man — used to gather 
 the lads about him on the green, and tell them 
 stories of the old wars, when Tyrone was a 
 rebel in Ireland and he fought under Blount, 
 Earl of Devon, till their little eyes almost 
 came out of their heads." 
 
 *' Dry was the cause, did you say?" asked 
 the young nobleman. " I thought the only 
 cause was found in the words he spoke — that 
 the king, if he were well counselled, would 
 call William of Orange to his aid, would 
 raise his standard at once, march to London,
 
 126 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 proclaim martial law, and hang the two ring- 
 leaders of the parliament before the door of 
 the house." 
 
 " Ay, my lord, that was the pretence,'* 
 replied the servant, " though he never said all 
 that ; and they pretended, too, he knew more 
 of what was going on in the north, if he chose 
 to speak. But the real reason was, that the 
 old man, one day last year, when he was 
 stronger than he was afterwards, heard the 
 sneaking villain saying things to poor little 
 Arrah that were not comely, and broke his 
 head with his staff. Dry stomached the affront 
 till the time came for his reveng:e, and then 
 brought the men over from Devizes to take 
 old Neil away ; so I am right glad your lord- 
 ship is going to punish him on that account." 
 
 *' ' Tis not on that account, Roger Hartup," 
 replied his master, gravely, "for of that I 
 know nothing ; but first, the man is a rank 
 traitor, as there is proof enough ; and secondly, 
 I am convinced that this fire last night was
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 127 
 
 not kindled without help. There were men 
 seen about the j^lace just after dark. Dry- 
 was up here upon a false pretence in the 
 morning ; and no one was near the west tower 
 with a light. Bring me the paper and ink, 
 and call the lance prisade of the troop who 
 came with the men." 
 
 He wrote a few hasty lines while the servant 
 was gone; and on his return with a stout, 
 broad-set soldier, the young nobleman said — 
 '' 1\ ow, sir, do you think that Major Randal 
 will object to your executing a warrant, under 
 my hand, for the arrest of a rank traitor in the 
 neighbourhood ?" 
 
 " I was ordered to receive your commands, 
 my lord, and obey them," replied the soldier. 
 "But the major told me to beg your lordship 
 to let him know early what you intended to 
 do, for that he did not hold it safe to remain 
 here much after noon, for fear of being cut off." 
 
 " I will send to him directly," replied Lord 
 Walton ; " but you, in the mean time, take
 
 128 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 this warrant, and go round by the back of the 
 town to a place called Longsoaken, where you 
 will apprehend one Ezekiel Dry. Bring him 
 hither without giving him time to speak with 
 any one in private." 
 
 " But if he resists ?" asked the man. 
 
 " Use force," answered Lord Walton, and 
 then added, " but there will be no resistance. 
 Take all your men with you but those who are 
 guarding the committee-men, and five of my 
 people beside. You, Roger, go with him, 
 with Hugh, and three others. Leave Langan, 
 for I shall want him ; and now," he continued, 
 as soon as they had retired, " to examine into 
 the business of this fire." 
 
 Thus saying, he rose, took his hat, which 
 lay beside him, and, passing through the 
 neighbouring hall, went out upon the terrace. 
 Then, circling round the ruins of the tower 
 which had fallen, he made his way to the end, 
 where, black and still reeking, stood the part of 
 the building in which the fire had commenced.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 129 
 
 IS'o one was near, and Lord Walton stood 
 and gazed at the ruin for several minutes Avitli 
 sad and solemn feelings. It looked to him 
 like the corpse of one untimely slain ; all was 
 grey and desolate, where lately had been life 
 and cheerfulness. The room in which he used 
 to sit was gone, and all th.at marked the spot 
 where he had passed many an hour of calm 
 and pleasant contemplation, were the charred 
 ends of the rafters, and one stout beam, which, 
 not quite destroyed, hung black and crum- 
 bling from side to side, bending down half 
 broken in the midst. Part of the wall had 
 fallen in, and part still stood, rugged and 
 ruined ; while in the chamber below some 
 tattered fragments of rich damask furniture 
 and old tapestry hung fluttering in the 
 wind. The smoke still rose up from the 
 pile of rubbish beneath ; but on one of the 
 chimneys a bird had already ventured to 
 perch, as if claiming it thenceforth for the 
 inheritance of the wild things of the earth. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 1:30 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 After a few minutes' sad contemplation, the 
 young' lord turned and looked around over the 
 fair scene he was about to leave, perhaps for 
 ever, as it lay, calm and smiling, in the sunshine 
 of the early morning, notwithstanding all the 
 destruction of the preceding night, and the 
 gloomy prospects of the future, with the same 
 peaceful indifference wherewith some have sup- 
 posed the disembodied spirit to look upon the 
 wild passions and contentions of the world. 
 
 As he gazed, however, he saw the figure of 
 a girl seated upon the trunk of a felled beech- 
 tree, which lay close beneath the terrace, and 
 instantly perceiving that it was that of Arrah 
 Neil, he beckoned to her to come up to him. 
 The girl did so without hesitation ; and, as she 
 climbed the stone steps which led from the 
 park, he watched her countenance, to see if 
 the moody and abstracted fit, to which she 
 was frequently subject, was still upon her or 
 had passed away. There was no trace of it 
 left. Her beautiful eyes were clear and bright,
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 131 
 
 and full of intelligence, though her brow was 
 grave and even sad; and her look was raised 
 towards him with a gentle, imploring, depre- 
 cating expression, as if she had in some way- 
 offended and sought forgiveness. 
 
 "Well, my poor Arrah," said the young 
 nobleman, in a kind tone, " I fear you were 
 much frightened last night.'* 
 
 " I was frightened, my lord," she answered, 
 bending down her eyes ; " but not much ; I 
 knew it was for the best, and hoped that it 
 would soon be extinguished." 
 
 " All things are for the best," replied Lord 
 
 Walton. " God forbid that I should doubt it, 
 
 Arrah. Yet this has been a severe loss and a 
 
 great grief to me ; for I cannot see the house 
 
 of my fathers so injured without regret. It is 
 
 not that many invaluable and rare things have 
 
 been destroyed, but that mementos of the past 
 
 are gone with them — things the sight of which 
 
 recalled the days of boyhood — places stored 
 
 with a thousand memories, ay, and a thousand 
 K 2
 
 132 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 associations with times before my own. I can 
 no longer sit in that room, Arrali, and think of 
 those who tenanted it in former years, or of all 
 the many scenes that have there taken place." 
 " I am very sorry for it indeed," replied 
 
 Arrah Keil ; " but yet " and she paused, 
 
 leaving her sentence unconcluded. 
 
 " Tell me, Arrah," continued Lord Walton, 
 not heeding her broken reply, " when you had 
 retired to rest last night, which they tell me 
 was about nine, did you hear any noise in the 
 tower, or any one going up the stairs which 
 pass close behind the room where you slept ?" 
 She gazed at him for a moment in silence, 
 with her large bright eyes fixed, somewhat 
 sadly, upon his countenance ; then shook her 
 head, and answered, " No one." 
 
 The young lord remarked the peculiarity of 
 her look, and added — *' I am sure you would 
 answer truly, Arrah, for your poor grand- 
 father, who gave you an education so much 
 above that which persons far higher in rank
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 133 
 
 bestow upon tlieir children, taught you, I 
 know, always to adhere to truth. Yet hear 
 me, Arrah ; I have always tried to be kind to 
 you and yours : I have been fond of you from 
 your childhood. Now, I suspect that this fire 
 was not the work of accident. I cannot find 
 that the door at the foot of the tower was 
 closed last night. That enemies were' abroad 
 I have too good reason to know; and you, 
 too, Avarned me yourself that danger was at 
 hand " 
 
 " Oil, but it was not that ! — it was not that !" 
 cried Arrah T^eil ; " the danger I feared for 
 you was not of fire, Charles Walton. Ask me 
 not to tell you, for they made me swear I 
 would not, before they would let me go." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed the young nobleman, 
 gazing at her thoughtfully. " Well, I will not 
 ask you then." 
 
 " Do not ! do not !" she cried, " for I could 
 not refuse you anything ; and that would be 
 wrong after I have sworn — I would lay down
 
 134 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 my life for you, indeed I would ; but you 
 would not wish me to break my word." 
 
 " No— no !" replied Lord Walton ; " but to 
 return. I suspect, as I have said, that this 
 destruction has not been committed by ac- 
 cident." 
 
 " Not entirely," said Arrah Neil, looking 
 down. 
 
 " Not entirely !" exclaimed the peer. " Then 
 you know how it happened — you know who 
 did it — Arrah, speak, who was it ? That, at 
 least, I may ask." 
 
 The poor girl trembled terribly, but then, 
 in a low sad voice, she answered, " It was I." 
 
 "You? — you?" cried Lord Walton, gazing 
 at her sternly, while his lijD quivered in the 
 attempt to suppress the emotions within him. 
 The girl answered nothing, and after a struggle 
 with himself, he waived his hand, saying — 
 " I forgive you, my poor girl — you did it when 
 you were not yourself. Tell no one else, 
 Arrah — the secret is safe with me ;" and
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 135 
 
 he turned away, lest one liarsli word should 
 mingle with the kinder ones he had spoken. 
 
 When he had gone some ten or twelve 
 paces, however, Arrali Neil darted after him, 
 caught his hand, and pressed her beautiful 
 lips upon it. 
 
 " Do not abandon me, Charles Walton,'* 
 she said. " Do not cast me off and hate me. 
 Tell me, would you rather see all those ruins, 
 and lose all you have lost, or be to-morrow a 
 jDrisoner in the dark Tower of London, perhaps 
 never to ride the green fields again while you 
 live ?" 
 
 Lord Walton paused with a look of bewil- 
 dered inquiry ; but then suddenly a light rose 
 up in his eyes, and laying his hand upon Arrali 
 Neil's shoulder, he said — "Thank you, Arrali! 
 thank you. ' Tis a wild way of deliverance. — 
 Yet thank you, dear child. You meant it well 
 
 — and it has succeeded But here are people 
 
 coming. Go back to Annie ; we must not leave 
 you behind us."
 
 136 ARIIAII NEIL; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The seasons of the year seemed to take their 
 tone from tlie spirit of the times, and the 
 discord that was raging throughout the land. 
 The summer was gloomy and full of storms. 
 Instead of bright sunshine and smiling skies, 
 heavy clouds had been gathering over the 
 heavens from the beginning of the year, and 
 although every now and then a warm and 
 splendid day, such as that which we have 
 described in the beginning of this tale, broke 
 in upon the heavy aspect of the summer, as if 
 to remind man of fairer and happier times, 
 yet week after week passed in tempests, rain, 
 and gloom ; and signs and portents, such as 
 might have alarmed nations in more supersti-^
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 137 
 
 tious (lays, were seen in the sky, and filled 
 the hearts of the more timid -with apprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 It was n-pon the morning of one of these 
 sad and frowning days, that a troop of horse, 
 consisting of about a hundred and fifty men, 
 well armed and mounted, took its way across 
 a wide and somewhat barren plain about forty 
 miles to the north-east of Bishop's Merton, 
 encumbered with a good deal of baggage, and 
 escorting two or three of the heavy carriages 
 of the times, in which were some six or seven 
 women. The prospect was wide and dreary, 
 extending in a number of 'grey lines which 
 afforded the eye no pleasing object to rest 
 upon, except here and there a little mound or 
 tumulus bearing on its top a clump of black 
 looking trees. In the distance was a range of 
 low wood, apparently stunted and withered by 
 the chilling blasts which swept over the plain ; 
 and a piece of water of some extent was seen 
 glistening on the right, with the sandy road, 
 along which the cavalcade took its way, wind-
 
 138 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 ing between the mere and the wood. No 
 hedge-rows broke the wide extent, and the 
 ground appeared to be somewhat marshy, for 
 numerous ditches intersected it in every direc- 
 tion, and a large trench ran along on either 
 side of the path, with here and there a small 
 wooden bridge to cross from the sandy high- 
 way to the green turf of the plain. 
 
 The progress of the party was not very 
 quick, for, as we have said, the carriages were 
 heavy, and their wheels, as well as those of 
 the two or three carts and waggons, sunk deep 
 and loose in the shifting soil of the road. By 
 the side of the foremost of the carriages gene- 
 rally rode a cavalier, with whom the reader is 
 already acquainted under the name of Lord 
 Walton, and ever and anon he laid his hand 
 upon the heavy door, and spoke in at the 
 window to his sister or to Arrah Neil, the 
 latter seldom replying except by a monosylla- 
 ble or a look. Annie Walton, however, con- 
 versed with him gaily and lightly ; not that 
 her heart was by any means at ease, or her
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 139 
 
 bosom without its apprehensions, but she was 
 well aware that her brother was grieved for all 
 the inconvenience that she suffered, and for 
 the danger to w hich she was exposed ; and, 
 with kindly and generous feeling towards him, 
 she made as little as possible of every annoy- 
 ance on the march — concealed all the fears 
 that she might experience, and seemed uncon- 
 scious of the perils of the way. She might 
 not, it is true, deceive her brother as to her 
 own sensations; for he knew her well, and 
 understood her kindness and devotion ; but 
 still it made the burden lighter to him to hear 
 no murmur, and to witness no terror. 
 
 From time to time, during the march of the 
 two preceding days, some of the rumours 
 which, true and false alike, always run through 
 a country in a state of agitation, had reached 
 Lord Walton's party, speaking of troops 
 marching hither and thither in the neighbour- 
 hood. Now it was a detachment from Lord 
 Essex's army ; now it was a body of men 
 crossing the country to reinforce Waller ; now
 
 140 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 it was a body of militia called out by parlia- 
 mentary commissioners from the district or 
 tlie county through which they were passing. 
 But Lord Walton paid but little attention to 
 these reports, having taken every necessary 
 precaution by throwing out several small par- 
 ties in front, at the distance of about two or 
 three miles, to guard against surprise, and 
 secure his onward course towards Coventry. 
 
 When any rumour reached him, indeed, 
 v/liich bore more strongly the semblance of 
 truth than the rest, and was corroborated by 
 his own knowledge of the position and designs 
 of the various persons to whom it referred, he 
 would ride forv/ard to the head of the line, and 
 converse for a fevr minutes with a thin, bony, 
 grave-looking personage in black, who bore 
 few signs of being a military man, except his 
 large boots of untanned leather, his heavy 
 steel-mounted sword, and the pistols at his 
 saddlebow. Thus, when they had got about 
 half way across the plain, and a horseman 
 galloped up from the right, leaping one or
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 141 
 
 two narrow ditches by which it was intersected, 
 and then, not able to cross the vv^ider trench 
 which separated the road from the turf, riding- 
 along by the side of the troop, and making- 
 signs to Charles Walton that he had something 
 to communicate, the young nobleman accord- 
 ingly reined in his horse, and suffering his 
 party to pass on, lingered behind till they were 
 out of ear-shot. 
 
 "Well, Master Hurst," he then asked, 
 *' what is your news ? I was sorry you would 
 not join us; but I am glad to see you here." 
 
 " I told Langan I would follow you, my 
 lord," replied the new-comer ; " but I had to 
 put my house in order, and sell some hay, for 
 it does not do to go soldiering in these times 
 without money in one's pocket, and I had but 
 short notice. However, my lord, you had 
 better be on your guard, for as I came over 
 the moor, I found a boy keeping sheep out 
 there between the wood and the water, and 
 wishing to know whereabouts you vrcre, for I 
 could not see vou at that time "
 
 142 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 " You did not mention my name, I hope," 
 said Lord Walton. 
 
 " Oh no, my lord," answered the horseman ; 
 " I took care not to do that ; I only asked if 
 he had seen a body of soldiers, without saying 
 horse or foot. So the boy said, ' Oh, yes ! that 
 there were five hundred and fifty lying behind 
 the wood — for he had counted them, seemingly 
 — like a flock of sheep.' Then I asked him 
 how many horse there were ; to which he 
 replied by saying, * Two, and that all the rest 
 had guns and bandoliers and steel caps, except 
 a few, who had long pikes in their hands.' " 
 
 "This seems serious," replied Lord Walton; 
 " we must look to this intelligence." 
 
 "There is more serious work behind, my 
 lord," replied Hurst ; " for this news gave me 
 the key of what I saw myself in the morning. 
 These musketeers are not alone. They have 
 got cavalry for their support, my lord, or I 
 am much mistaken : not two hours asro I saw 
 the tail of a troop going into the little village, 
 the spire of which you can just see rising up
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 143 
 
 there. I should have taken them for your men, 
 but that they were coming* the contrary road; 
 so I avoided the village for fear of worse." 
 
 *' Well, Hurst, ride on to the next bridge," 
 said Lord Walton, " and then join me on the 
 road with Major Randal, whom I must consult 
 on our proceedings." 
 
 Thus saying, he spurred on his horse, and 
 galloped forward to the head of the line, 
 where, pulling up by the side of our spare 
 friend in black, he communicated to him all 
 that he had just heard. 
 
 " Ah !" said Randal, in his usual dry and 
 deliberate tone — " Ah ! Five hundred and 
 fifty musketeers, rather better than three to 
 one. That would not matter if the ground 
 were fair ; but these ditches, these ditches, 
 they are awkward things in the way of cavalry ; 
 if our horses could leap them as easily as their 
 shot, the matter would soon be settled. Does 
 any one know what like the ground is there ? 
 They will gall us sadly if we have to expose 
 our flank to the wood."
 
 144 ARRAII NEIL; OR, 
 
 " I fear so indeed," replied Lord Walton ; 
 " but perhaps if I were to pass the next bridge, 
 take a circuit round and dislodge them, while 
 you pursue your way along the road, we might 
 contrive to get into better fighting ground." 
 
 " Let us see what it is like first," said Ran- 
 dal; "here comes your newsmonger, my lord, 
 we shall learn more from him. Now, master 
 yeoman, how does the land lie about the wood ; 
 is there good room for a charge, or is it cut 
 up like this?" 
 
 " Between the wood and the road," an- 
 swered Hurst, " it is just like a gridiron, vrith 
 ditches enough to drain the sea !" 
 
 " And behind the wood — do you know any 
 thing of that ?" continued Randal. 
 
 " It is good enough there," said the horse- 
 man, divining the object of his question, " but 
 you cannot get at it for the river." 
 
 "They have some good soldiers amongst 
 them," said Randal. " Such ground was not 
 chosen by one of the old bottle-nosed serving 
 men of London."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 145 
 
 " They must have good intelligence, too," 
 said Lord Walton, " to fix so exactly on a point 
 where they can best attack us. If it were not 
 for my sister and the women, we miglit take 
 their fire in passing, and get into the good 
 ground beyond. But the carriages and bag- 
 gage would prove a sad encumbrance." 
 
 " Ah, women, women !" cried Randal, " they 
 are the causes of all the mischief in the world. 
 However, we must dispose of them, and must 
 take our resolution quickly ; there is no going 
 back now, my lord, and we must make our 
 way forward at whatever risk — luckily you 
 have brought all the spare horses and the 
 women's saddles ; they must quit the carriages 
 and mount. As for the baggage, it must take 
 its chance and belong to the winners." 
 
 " But I cannot expose my sister," exclaimed 
 Lord Walton, " to such an affair as this — she 
 can go back to the village." 
 
 " No, no," said Randal, quickly ; " there is 
 no need of that ; this good yeoman can guide 
 her round with the rest of the women, while 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 we make our way forward, and do the best 
 that we can with these gentry in front. They 
 will not chase her if we keep on our way ; but 
 if we quit the road, they will of course draw to 
 their left and cut us off between the causeway 
 and the water. Now, my lord, be quick ; get 
 them out and away, I will send a dozen of my 
 men to escort them, with Barecolt at their 
 head. 'T is the best task for him ; for though 
 he does not w^ant courage, with w^omen he will 
 have room to talk, and that is his chief occu- 
 pation. He may lie, too, there as much as he 
 likes, and nobody will find him out. Now, 
 master yeoman, you be guide — lead these 
 ladies over the moor, round by the back of 
 that great pond, and into the open ground 
 above it. When you get to that mound with 
 the trees on it, you may halt a bit, and w^atch 
 what we are about on the road. If you see 
 that we get the worst, put to the sj^ur, and 
 gallop on till you rejoin the Coventry-road, 
 then on as fast as may be to the king, who 
 will be in Coventry by noon to-morrow. If
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 147 
 
 you see we make good our ground, come back 
 and join us." 
 
 *' But there are horse in that village, sir," 
 answered Hurst. 
 
 " That can 't be helped," replied Randal ; 
 " we have no other chance. Besides, they may 
 be our people as well as the enemy's — Stay, 
 it may be as well to see : I will send on Bare, 
 colt, while you halt on the hill. He can play 
 either part — swear and swagger like the most 
 licentious cavalier, or cant and pule like the 
 most starched puritan." 
 
 While this conversation had been taking 
 place, the party had not ceased to advance 
 slowly along the road ; but the order to halt 
 was now given, and preparations were made 
 for carrying into execution the plan decided 
 upon. The carriages were stopped. Miss 
 Walton and her attendants placed hastily 
 upon the spare horses which had been brought 
 from Bishop's Merton, and the small body 
 under Captain Barecolt were drawn out, and 
 commanded to fall into the rear. Annie 
 L 2
 
 148 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 Walton did all that she was told to do without 
 a word ; but she looked in her brother's face, 
 as he placed her on horseback, and, bending 
 down her beautiful head, kissed his cheek, 
 while a silent, irrepressible tear rose in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Do not fear, Annie, — do not fear," said 
 Charles Walton ; " we will soon put these 
 fellows to the rout." 
 
 But it is in vain, in moments of danger and 
 difficulty, to commend courage to those who, 
 by fate or situation, are doomed to inactivity ; 
 for they must still feel for those that they 
 love, if not for themselves ; and though Miss 
 Walton considered not for one moment the 
 personal peril which she encountered, her 
 heart beat with apprehensions for her brother, 
 which no words could quiet or remove. Lord 
 Walton then turned to Arrah Neil, who was 
 already mounted, and leaning his hand on the 
 horse's neck, he asked — " Can you manage 
 the horse, my poor Arrah ? had you not better 
 ride behind a trooper ?"
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 149 
 
 " Oh, no," she said ; " no, I can ride quite 
 well — I remember now ;" and, indeed, the 
 manner in which she held her rein, the ease 
 and grace with which she sat the horse, and 
 the command which she had over it, though a 
 jDOwerful and spirited animal, clearly showed 
 that at some time she must have been well 
 accustomed to such exercise. 
 
 Lord Walton looked down with a thought- 
 ful expression of countenance, as if there were 
 something that puzzled him. But just at that 
 moment Major Randal rode up, exclaiming — 
 " We must lose no more time, my lord ; if we 
 halt any longer here, they may see what we 
 are about, and act accordingly. I shall order 
 the troop to advance, for women are always 
 slow, and they must come after us as they can, 
 till they reach the little bridge up yonder. 
 Let the carts and carriages come first, and the 
 women can bring up the rear. Now, mark ye, 
 Barecolt, follow this good yeoman, with the 
 ladies under your charge, till you reach that 
 little mound with the trees on the right. You
 
 150 ARRAH KEIL ; OR, 
 
 can deliver your stomacli by the way of any of 
 tlie wild imaginations that may fret you ; but 
 when you get to the mound you must give up 
 talking, and, riding on to the village alone, 
 make use of your wits, if you have any left, to 
 ascertain whether there be a troop of horse in 
 it, and of what side." 
 
 " Alone !" said Barecolt. 
 
 "To be sure," answered Randal, with a 
 laugh ; " the man who preached in the morn- 
 ing at Rochelle, and defeated the papists in 
 the evening, who defended the pass in the 
 Cevennes single-handed against a whole army, 
 may well go on alone to reconnoitre a handful 
 of cavalry. Besides, it will make you careftd, 
 Master Barecolt, when you know that your 
 own life depends on your own tongue." 
 
 *' It has often done that," answered Barecolt. 
 " I remember, when I was in Spain, being at- 
 tacked by some twenty banditti, and putting 
 my back against a rock " 
 
 " March !" cried Randal, interrupting him ; 
 " tell that to the girls. It will do to pass the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 151 
 
 time as well as any other lie ;" and riding* 
 on, he led the >yay, while Lord Walton con- 
 tinued by his sister's side, till, reaching the 
 little bridge, the good farmer. Hurst, turned 
 off from the road into the meadows, followed 
 by the young lady, her servants, and the 
 escort. 
 
 With anxious eyes Annie Walton and Arrali 
 Xeil watched the advance of the larger party 
 of horse towards the wood before them, al- 
 though neither of them had heard the exact 
 cause of alarm, or were aware of where the 
 danger was to be apprehended, or what was 
 its nature. All they knew was, that peril lay 
 upon the onward road ; and, notwithstand- 
 ing all the assiduities of Captain Barecolt — 
 who, riding by their side wherever the space 
 admitted it, endeavoured to entertain them 
 with some of the monstrous fictions in which 
 his imagination was accustomed to indulge — 
 they listened not to his tales, they scarcely 
 even heard his words, but, with their eyes 
 turned constantly to the road they had just
 
 152 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 quitted, pursued a patli, forming with it an 
 acute angle, which led round the back of a 
 large piece of water that lay gleaming before 
 them. 
 
 Once or twice they had to dismount, and 
 lead their horses over the little wooden bridges 
 which crossed the ditches intersecting the 
 plain ; and more than once, where these were 
 so insecure as to give way under the horses' 
 feet, they were forced to quit their direct line, 
 and take a circuit round. Nevertheless, as 
 they cantered quickly over the turf between, 
 they had reached the little tree-covered knoll 
 which had been pointed out as their halting- 
 place, before the troop which was pursuing 
 the high road had arrived at the spot where 
 the low wood we have mentioned skirted the 
 way. 
 
 That wood did not indeed approach close 
 to the road, but lay at the distance of from a 
 hundred to a hundred and fifty yards on the 
 left, extending parallel with it for nearly a 
 quarter of a mile, and having a green meadow.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 163 
 
 and tlie continuation of the broad trench we 
 have mentioned, between. A river of some 
 width, flowing from the right, crossed the 
 highway under a bridge of two arches, at a 
 short distance from the wood; and at the 
 moment that Miss Walton and her com- 
 panions reached the mound, the head of her 
 brother's troop was about three hundred yards 
 from this bridge. 
 
 Knowing well that Major Randal was not a 
 man to be trifled with, Capt. Barecolt, as soon 
 as they had arrived at the appointed place, 
 took a flowery and ceremonious leave of Miss 
 Walton, and rode on towards the village of 
 which they had now a better view than before. 
 The young lady's eyes, however, were still 
 fixed upon her brother's troop, as she remained 
 half way up the little mound, with her horse 
 turned towards the road, and her maids behind, 
 with Arrah Neil upon her left hand, and the 
 small party of troopers a little in advance. 
 
 They had continued thus for some four or 
 five minutes in breathless expectation of what
 
 154 
 
 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 was to come next, when they perceived the 
 troop brought to a sudden halt, and an appa- 
 rent consultation take place at the head of 
 the little column. At that moment Annie 
 "Walton heard one of the troopers just before 
 her say aloud — " They have barricaded the 
 bridge, that 's clear enough." 
 
 "Good God!" she exclaimed; " what will 
 they do ?" 
 
 But the man, although he heard her words, 
 only turned his head over his shoulder to give 
 her a look, without making any reply. 
 
 " There is a little path, lady," said one of 
 tlie maids, who, placed higher up the hill, saw- 
 more distinctly the ground beneath — " there 
 is a little path down from the side of the 
 bridge into the meadows below, if they were 
 to take that they could get out of the way of 
 the wood, and I should think could cross the 
 river, for it spreads out there so wide, it must 
 be shallow." 
 
 " They do not see it," said Annie Walton ; 
 " they do not see it for the bank."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 156 
 
 Almost as she spoke, a considerable body of 
 foot drew out from the wood ; and a party of 
 about a hundred men running forward, drew 
 up in line close to the bridge, and opened a 
 fire of musketry upon the small troop of 
 cavalry which occupied the road. Several 
 horses at the head, of the line were seen to 
 plunge violently, and one fell with its rider. 
 The next instant the whole were in motion, a 
 charge was made upon the bridge ; and for a 
 few moments all was confusion and disarray, 
 in which they could only see that the cavaliers 
 had recourse to their pistols, and were en- 
 deavouring apparently to force the barri- 
 cade. 
 
 " Oh ! the path, the path !" cried Annie 
 Walton. " If any man will ride and tell 
 them of the path, and that they can ford the 
 river below, I will give him a hundred crowns." 
 One of the troopers was instantly dashing 
 forward, but the man who had been left in 
 command called him back, saying that they 
 had been ordered to remain there, and must
 
 156 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 obey. By this time tlie charge had been 
 repulsed, and the cavaliers were retreating 
 under a heavy fire in some disarray. They 
 formed again with great rapidity, however, 
 behind the waggons and carriages. 
 
 Miss Walton remonstrated against the recall 
 of her messenger ; but without waiting to hear 
 the reply, Arrah Neil exclaimed — " I will go, 
 dear lady, I will go ;" and shaking her rein, 
 she put the horse to its speed, and darted 
 forward before any one could stop her. 
 
 "I will go, too," cried Annie Walton. 
 " Why should she risk her life, and a sister 
 fear." And thus saying, she struck her horse 
 with the whip, and followed. In a moment, 
 without uttering a word, the stout yeoman. 
 Hurst, was by the lady's side ; but Arrah Neil 
 outsped them both, and rode direct for the 
 path she had observed. Without fear, without 
 pause, the devoted girl rode on, although, 
 as soon as ever she was perceived from the 
 bridge, the shots began to drop around her, 
 for her object was instantly divined, and no
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 157 
 
 consideration for lier sex restrained the sol- 
 diery. 
 
 "This way, lady, this way," cried Hurst, 
 turning to the left ; "we can speak to them 
 over the dyke, and we shall be further from 
 the fire." 
 
 They were now within a few hundred yards 
 of Lord Walton's party, [and he was seen at 
 the head of the troop gesticulating vehemently 
 to his sister to keep back. 
 
 "Ride away, my dear, ride away," cried 
 Hurst, " I will go on ;" but at that moment a 
 shot struck his charger, and horse and rider 
 went down together. Miss Walton, however, 
 rode forward, seeing the good yeoman strug- 
 gling up ; and Arrah Neil, too, pursued her 
 way, reached the bridge, dashed up the path, 
 entered the road, and, in the midst of all the 
 fire, galloped on till, when within ten yards of 
 the carriages, a ball struck the animal in the 
 haunches, and he reared violently with the 
 pain. She still kept her seat, however, till 
 Lord Walton, spurring forward, seized the
 
 158 
 
 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 bridal and caught her in his arms, just as the 
 horse fell, and, struggling in the agonies of 
 death, rolled over into the dyke. 
 
 "Good God! what is it?" exclaimed Charles 
 Walton, bearing her back behind the waggons. 
 " Annie, Annie, ride away," he shouted to his 
 sister ; " if you love me, ride away." 
 
 " There is a path down by the bridge — the 
 river is fordable below," exclaimed Arrah 
 Neil ; " there are no dykes beyond the stream. 
 All is clear on that side." 
 
 " Look, look ! Charles," cried Miss Walton, 
 pointing with her hand, " there is a body of 
 cavalry drawing out from the village, and 
 some one riding at full speed towards our 
 people on the hill." 
 
 " Friends, on my life!" cried Major Randal. 
 *' Now, fair aid-de-camp, gallop round there 
 to the right, and keep out of fire. Tell your 
 people to charge the Roundheads in the front, 
 while those from the village take them on the 
 flank, and we do the best we can on the right. 
 What was that you said, j)retty maid?" he
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 159 
 
 continued, addressing Arrah Neil — " a path 
 down by tlie bridge— the stream fordable?" 
 
 " Ride away, Annie, ride away," cried Lord 
 Walton — " more to the right, more to the 
 right." 
 
 " We must push forward the carriages and 
 carts," said Major Randal ; " they will give 
 us some shelter. Where this girl came up, 
 there can we go down." 
 
 " I saw the path quite clear," said one of the 
 men. 
 
 Rut without more words the new plan pro- 
 posed was immediately followed ; the carts, 
 drawn up two abreast, were pushed forward 
 towards the bridge by the main strength of 
 the dismounted troopers, for the horses had 
 become unmanageable, and the traces had 
 been cut ; and under shelter of these and of the 
 carriages, which formed a line on the left, the 
 troop advanced in good order to the bridge, 
 notwithstanding all the efforts of the mus- 
 keteers. 
 
 In the mean while, Annie Walton took her
 
 160 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 way back towards the hill, beckoning to the 
 yeoman, Hurst, who had by this time freed 
 himself from his horse ; but he. with that sort 
 of passive bravery which is so characteristic 
 of the English peasant, continued deliberately 
 to unbuckle the girths of his saddle (about 
 which, it appeared afterwards, all his stock was 
 stowed away in various bags and contrivances), 
 and made not the slightest effort to get out 
 of musket shot till he had got the whole upon 
 his back, after which he trudged away towards 
 the hill, only injured by one ball vvhich grazed 
 his arm. 
 
 Losing no time by the way. Miss Walton 
 soon rejoined the party of troopers at the 
 knoll, and was giving them the order of Major 
 Randal, when Barecolt himself came up at 
 full speed, exclaiming — 
 
 " Great news, great news ! There is the 
 Earl of Beverley with two hundred horse, 
 ready to charge the Roundheads in the flank." 
 
 " We have Major Randal's orders to charge 
 them in front," said the sergeant.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 161 
 
 *' Stay, stay !" cried Barecolt ; " wait a mi- 
 nute, wait a minute, and then the man who 
 does not kill his five of the enemy, should 
 never sit down with a gentleman to dinner 
 again. Steady, my men, steady ; look to your 
 pistols, have ready your spurs. As soon as 
 the earl has crossed the road, I give the 
 word." 
 
 " See, see," cried Annie Walton, " they have 
 got down into the meadow — they are fording 
 the stream — see what a fire the enemy are 
 keeping up upon them. Oh, charge, charge, 
 for God's sake, and help them !" 
 
 " Madam, I always obey a lady," said 
 Barecolt, with a low bow, at the same time 
 raising the blade of his sword to his lips and 
 kissing it. " She is the best commanding- 
 officer in the world. Now ! Upon them — 
 charge and at them !" and with these words 
 he led his little troop forward with an air of 
 gallantry and determination which went far to 
 justify the gasconades in which he indulged. 
 
 The ford, though somewhat deep, was smooth 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 and easy, but still it exposed the troop of 
 cavaliers to a terrible fire of musketry from 
 the bridge; and Annie Walton, left alone with 
 her women on the hill, saw with a sinking heart 
 flash after flash run along the road, whilst the 
 thick white smoke was wafted by the wind 
 over her brother's party, rendering the figures 
 indistinct, and concealing their movements in 
 some degree from her eyes. A moment after, 
 however, she saw two or three horsemen break 
 out of the clouds and gallop on for several 
 hundred yards into the meadows ; then fol- 
 lowed a greater number, and she could hear 
 shouts and calls, in the midst of which she 
 thought she distinguished her brother's voice : 
 and then she saw the troopers halt, and form 
 again in line, while Barecolt with his little 
 party bore steadily on at a quick pace some- 
 what to the right ; and a much larger body of 
 cavalry, which seemed to have taken a circuit 
 from the village behind some hedgerows that 
 skirted the edge of the plain, appeared ad- 
 vancing rapidly on the left of the musketeers,
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 163 
 
 and occupying the whole space between the 
 wood and the high road. 
 
 There was now a momentary pause, the 
 firing ceased, the troop of Lord Walton and 
 Major Randal remained still, the smoke 
 cleared in some degree away, and Annie 
 asked herself, " What next ?" 
 
 The moment, however, that Barecolt came 
 on a line with the rest, the shrill blast of a 
 trumpet was heard from the two larger bodies 
 of horse ; all were again in movement ; and, 
 galloping forward towards the point occupied 
 by the musketeers, the three parties of royal- 
 ists charged headlong down upon them, while 
 once more the bright flash of the fire-arms ran 
 along the line of the road, and the cloud of 
 smoke again rolled over the combatants. 
 
 It was no longer to be repulsed that the 
 cavaliers now charged. For full ten minutes, 
 the eyes of the watchers on the hill could per- 
 ceive nothing but one struggling and confused 
 mass in the midst of the dim white cloud, with 
 the frequent flashes of the guns, and every 
 M 2
 
 164 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 now and then a party of two or three becom- 
 ing more apparent, and then plunging again 
 into the midst of the melee. At the same 
 time the frequent reports of the musketry and 
 the long-continued blasts of the trumpet, 
 mingled with shouts and cries, were borne 
 by the wind to the ear, showing that the fight 
 was continued with desperate determination 
 on each side ; and Annie Walton could re- 
 strain her anxiety no longer, but moved slowly 
 forward towards the scene of combat. 
 
 Before she had advanced many yards a 
 horse without a rider rushed across the road, 
 and galloped over the meadows towards her 
 — paused, turned round, and, with elevated 
 head and expanded nostrils, gazed towards 
 the place from which he came — then with a 
 wild neigh broke away again, and rushed 
 across the plain. In another instant three or 
 four men on foot, with muskets in their hands, 
 were seen running at full speed, and Miss 
 Walton checked her horse, fearing that they 
 might come near her ; but they made direct
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 165 
 
 for one of the ditches we have mentioned, 
 and jumi^ing in, seemed to crouch down for 
 concealment. 
 
 " They have won the day," cried Annie 
 Walton, and turning to her women, who had 
 followed somewhat slowly, she repeated — 
 " The cavaliers have won the day — God grant 
 it may be without great loss ;" and at the 
 thought of what might be her brother's fate in 
 that fierce fight, her heart sunk witli that 
 dread which we all feel when the veil, which 
 always hangs more or less over the future, 
 is brought nearer to our eyes, so as to render 
 our contemplation even of the present dim and 
 indistinct. 
 
 A larger party of foot, consisting of per- 
 haps twenty or thirty men, was then seen 
 hurrying along the road ; but close upon them 
 came a body of cavalry, and in a moment they 
 were dispersed and flying over the plain. 
 Almost at the same time, the heavy mass of 
 horse and infantry which had so long re- 
 mained mingled together near the bridge.
 
 166 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 seemed to explode like a shell, parties of foot 
 and horsemen scattering here and there in 
 every direction ; and the terrible scene of a 
 rout and pursuit now took place — the mus- 
 keteers in general casting down their arms 
 and flying, while the cavaliers followed them 
 here and there over the j)lain, and put them to 
 the sword on the least show of resistance. 
 
 In the midst of all this disarray and con- 
 fusion, a group of some twenty or thirty 
 horsemen were seen gathered round a small 
 flag upon the highest part of the road near the 
 bridge ; and after a brief pause, during which 
 they remained perfectly still and motionless, 
 the loud and peculiar trumpet call — known in 
 those days as the recall to the standard — 
 came shrill but musical upon the air ; and the 
 next instant four or five horsemen separated 
 themselves from the party, and rode up at an 
 easy canter towards the wooded knoll. 
 
 Annie Walton gazed eagerly, and, recog- 
 nising her brother's form, after one moment of 
 brief anxiety, rode on to meet him with her
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 167 
 
 heart at ease. Lord Walton pushed forward 
 his horse before the rest, and wheeling it by 
 her side, pressed her hand in his, murmuring', 
 " My dearest Annie, my sweet sister, you 
 have been sadly terrified, I fear, but yet you 
 have shown yourself a soldier's child." 
 
 " Oh, Charles, Charles, you are wounded," 
 cried Annie, looking in his face, which was 
 bleeding, and at a gory scarf which was round 
 his left arm. 
 
 " Nothing, nothing," replied her brother. 
 " Men will have scratches when they fight 
 with wild beasts, Annie ; and these Round- 
 heads have shown themselves as fierce and in- 
 tractable as wolves or lions. They fought 
 gallantly, however, it must be owned, and have 
 made us pay dearly for our success." 
 
 " I fear so, indeed, Charles," cried Miss 
 Walton. " I am sure it must be so. But 
 poor Arrah Neil — is she safe ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, thank God !" replied Lord Walton. 
 " I sent just now to the coach in which I had 
 placed her, to make sure she was uninjured.
 
 168 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 I must not blame lier rashness, my Annie, nor 
 yours either, for it has been the means of 
 saving* us ; but it was a terrible risk, my dear 
 girl, and your escape is a miracle." 
 
 " And good Major Randal ?" asked Annie, 
 willing to change the subject. 
 
 " He is safe too," replied Lord Walton, 
 " and without a scratch, though never man 
 exposed himself more. But here comes an- 
 other friend whom you will be glad to see, 
 and to whom we owe all our success." 
 
 " Oh, Sir Francis Clare !" exclaimed Miss 
 Walton, with a glow of pleasure rising in her 
 cheek ; " I am most happy to see you." 
 
 " Nay, not Sir Francis Clare either," cried 
 her brother, " but my oldest and truest friend, 
 the Earl of Beverley." 
 
 " Nay," said Annie, with a smile, " it was not 
 fair of you, my lord, to give me a false name 
 the other day. I half intend to punish you 
 by treating you as a stranger still. Had you 
 told me it was Lord Beverley, I should not 
 have said that I never heard my brother men-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 169 
 
 tion you, for I can assure you, in former days, 
 Lis letters were full of no one else. However, 
 there is my hand — I forgive you, trusting with 
 all a woman's foolish confidence that you had 
 some good reason for cheating me." 
 
 " I will never cheat you more, dear lady," 
 replied Lord Beverley, taking her hand and 
 raising it to his lips ; " but in such times as 
 these it is sometimes needful to seem not 
 what we are, and these noms de guerre when 
 once assumed should be kept up to every one. 
 I had to ride near two hundred miles across a 
 disturbed country where the name of Francis 
 Clare might pass unquestioned, when that of 
 Beverley might have soon found me a lodging 
 in the tower. Walton said it was a rash act 
 of mine to risk such an expedition at all ; but 
 I have just heard from him that I am not 
 the only rash person where there is a good 
 cause and a great object to be gained." 
 
 " Kay, will you scold me too ?" rejoined 
 Miss Walton, laughing ; " if so I will hold no 
 further conversation with you. Yet, my good
 
 170 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 lord, to say truth, I take less blame to myself 
 for what I did, than for not doing it at once. 
 To see the poor girl, Arrali Neil, willing to 
 risk her life to serve my brother, shamed me, 
 to think that she should encounter danger 
 alone." 
 
 " But you might have sent one of the men, 
 dear Annie," said Lord Walton : " it was 
 a soldier's, not a lady's task to carry such 
 intelligence." 
 
 " But they would not go," replied Annie 
 Walton ; and as they rode back towards the 
 high road, she explained to her brother and 
 his friend the circumstances under which she 
 had acted. 
 
 For a minute or two the conversation was 
 as gay and cheerful as a great success just 
 obtained, a great deliverance just achieved, 
 could render it. Lord Beverley explained to 
 his fair companion, that having learned that 
 morning on entering the neighbouring village 
 with a body of two hundred horse, which he 
 had raised for the service of the king, that a
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 171 
 
 regiment of parliamentary musketeers were 
 lying concealed at tlie back of the wood, and 
 supposing that their ambush was directed 
 against himself, he had determined to remain 
 in the place, and defend it, should need be, 
 against them ; but that when he found the 
 passage of Lord Walton's troop was opposed, 
 and his friend in danger, he had instantly 
 called his men to the saddle, and advanced to 
 support him. Lord Walton, too, related many 
 of those actions which in such scenes of strife 
 are always crowded into the space of a few 
 minutes ; and much praise did he bestow upon 
 the gallant determination of Major Randal 
 and his troop, and also upon the steadiness 
 and courage displayed by his own tenantry 
 and adherents. Captain Barecolt himself had 
 his full share of commendation. 
 
 " I had thought," said Charles Walton, 
 " from his ridiculous bravadoes during the last 
 two days, that the man must be at least a 
 coward, although Randal is not one to suffer 
 such an animal near him : but it proved quite
 
 172 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 the contrary ; and I saw his long body con- 
 stantly in the thick of the melee^ and his 
 heavy sword cutting right and left at the steel 
 caps of the musketeers, over the very muzzles 
 of their guns." 
 
 As they approached nearer to the scene of 
 conflict, however, the sights which Miss Walton 
 witnessed — the dead, the dying, the wounded, 
 the road stained with deep pools of blood, 
 and the sounds that met her ear — the groan 
 of anguish, the sad complaint, the cry for 
 water and for help — blotted out all memory 
 of their success ; and with a shuddering frame 
 and a sad heart she followed her brother to 
 the spot where Major Randal was sitting by 
 his cornet, on the parapet of the bridge, re- 
 ceiving accounts from the different troopers 
 as they came in, of the prisoners taken from 
 the enemy, and the killed and wounded on 
 their own part, while ever and anon a 
 mounted trumpeter by his side blew a loud, 
 long blast, to call the parties from the pursuit. 
 
 " Ah, Miss Walton 1" cried the old oflicer.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 173 
 
 starting up and addressing her in his usual 
 bluff tone ; "I am glad to see you safe and 
 well. I will never say that women are of no 
 use any more ; for by my faith, you and that 
 other girl got us out of a pretty predicament. 
 I was blind enough or stupid enough, and so 
 were all the rest, not to mark the little path, 
 for we passed it in charging up to the bridge, 
 but even if we had seen it, we should not 
 have known that the stream was fordable 
 below. However, get you into the carriage 
 again, and shut your eyes or draw the curtains, 
 for I see you look white and sickish, and these 
 sights are not fit for women. The men will 
 have soon pulled down that barricade, and 
 then you can go on, while we get up the 
 wounded, and follow. We must do ten miles 
 more to-night." 
 
 " I should prefer to ride," replied Miss 
 Walton; "you had better put the wounded 
 people in the carriages." 
 
 " True, true — well bethought," answered the 
 old soldier. " You are a good girl after all."
 
 174 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 Lord Walton smiled at this somewhat am- 
 biguous com]3liment to his sister ; but as no 
 time was to be lost, he left her under the 
 care of Lord Beverley, and proceeded to give 
 orders, and make those arrangements which 
 the circumstances required. The barricade, 
 which had been constructed hastily of felled 
 trees, stone, and turf, was speedily removed, 
 and the foremost of the carriages was being 
 brought forward to receive some of the men 
 severely wounded, who were lying about 
 within the very narrow circle to which the 
 strife had been confined, w^hen Lord Walton s 
 servant, Langan, rode up, exclaiming — " My 
 lord, my lord ! the prisoners have made their 
 escape." 
 
 " What prisoners ?" demanded Lord Walton, 
 forgetting those he had brought from Bishop's 
 Merton. 
 
 " Why that Roundhead rascal and canting 
 hypocrite. Dry, of Longsoaken, with Thistle- 
 ton, and the rest." 
 
 " No," rejoined Roger Hartup, who was
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 175 
 
 standing- near, with a severe wound in his 
 shoulder ; " I shot Thistleton through the head 
 after the first charge. He had picked up a 
 sword, I don't know how, and got out of the 
 carriage, and was just ' making a pkinge at 
 Jackson, the forester, when I blew his brains 
 out with my pistol ; you will find him lying 
 behind the waggons. Of the rest I know 
 nothing." 
 
 " They are all gone," answered Langan. 
 
 " And Arrah IN'eil ?" exclaimed Lord Wal- 
 ton advancing towards the carriages. — But 
 Arrah Neil was not there.
 
 176 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Inquiries were made on every side, but in 
 vain. ISTo one had seen poor Arrah Neil since 
 she had .been placed in the coach by Lord 
 Walton ; and indeed, in the haste and con- 
 fusion of the strife which had ensued after the 
 troop had forded the river and attacked the 
 enemy in front, no one had had an oppor- 
 tunity of witnessing* what had taken place 
 amongst the carriages, except two wounded 
 men who had been left behind upon the road, 
 one of whom had died before the struggle 
 was over, while the other had crept for secu- 
 rity under one of the waggons, which hid 
 everything that was passing from his sight. 
 The agitation and alarm of Miss Walton
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 177 
 
 and her brother, seemed somewhat beyond 
 measure in the eyes of good Major Randal, 
 who was anxious to hasten forward with all 
 speed. He waited somewhat impatiently while 
 parties were sent here and there over the 
 plain, to seek for the poor girl who had dis- 
 appeared ; but at length he broke forth in a 
 sharp tone, exclaiming, " We cannot remain 
 here till night, my lord, waiting for this lost 
 sheep ; we have got all the wounded men into 
 the coaches and on the waggons, and on my 
 life we must be marching : we have prisoners 
 enough to embarrass us sadly if we were 
 attacked, and who can tell that we may not 
 meet with another party of these worthies?" 
 
 " I think not," said the Earl of Beverley, 
 who had shown a good deal of interest in the 
 event which seemed to move his friend so 
 much. " I have heard of no other Round- 
 heads than these in this neighbourhood ; but 
 if you will march on, Walton, and take one 
 half of my troop with you, I will remain 
 behind with the rest, for they are fresher than 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 your men, and we can overtake you after we 
 have done all that is possible to discover this 
 poor girl." ,^ 
 
 " No," answered Lord Walton, " I will not 
 leave her behind, Francis, as long as there is 
 a chance. You had better march on, major ; 
 I will stay with my own people, and follow 
 you to Henley. Annie, you had better go on : 
 your staying, my dear sister, would but em- 
 barrass me. Lord Beverley will give you the 
 advantage of his escort, and I will overtake 
 you before night." 
 
 It was accordingly arranged as he proposed ; 
 and to say the truth, Lord Beverley was by no 
 means displeased with the task of protecting 
 his friend's sister on the way. In the course 
 of a quarter of an hour the whole troop was 
 put in motion ; and Annie Walton, though 
 somewhat umvilling to leave her brother be- 
 hind, followed on horseback, with the earl by 
 her side, and some fourteen or fifteen horse 
 bringing up the rear, at a short distance 
 behind. She had been rendered sad and de-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 179 
 
 spending by all the events which had taken 
 place ; for the first joy of success and deliver- 
 ance had by this time passed away, and the 
 impression that remained was of that dark 
 and gloomy character which her first entrance 
 upon scenes of strife, bloodshed, and danger, 
 might naturally produce upon a gentle and 
 kindly heart, however firm might be the mind, 
 however strong the resolution. 
 
 Her companion well understood the feelings 
 of a girl nurtured with tenderness and luxury, 
 accustomed alone to deal with the peaceful 
 and the graceful things of life, when suddenly 
 forced to witness and take part in the fierce 
 and turbulent acts of civil war, to follow 
 marching men, and be a spectator of battle 
 and slaughter. He knew right well that no 
 gay and lively subject would be pleasant to 
 her ear at such a moment, though the soldier 
 himself might habitually cast off all memory 
 of the strife the instant it was over, and give 
 way to joy and triumph in the hour of success. 
 The cavalier shaped his conversation accord- 
 N 2
 
 180 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 ingly, and in a grave though not sad tone, 
 spoke of deeper and more solemn things 
 than had formed the matter of their discourse 
 when last they met. Nevertheless, seeking to 
 win her from her gloom, there came from time 
 to time, across the course of all he said, flashes 
 of bright and brilliant eloquence, rich and 
 imaginative illustrations, sparkling and almost 
 gay allusions to other things and times and 
 scenes, which, without producing the discord 
 that anything like merriment would have oc- 
 casioned to her ear, stole her thoughts away 
 from gloomier subjects of contemplation, and 
 calling the blessed power of fancy to her aid, 
 enabled her to bear up against the first weight 
 of the dark present. 
 
 To Annie Walton there was an extraor- 
 dinary charm in the conversation of the cava- 
 lier — it was like the current of a stream flowing 
 on between deep and shady banks, profound, 
 yet rapid and various, while ever and anon 
 the sunshine breaks upon it through the trees, 
 and lights it up for a space in all the sparkling
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 181 
 
 lustre of the day. At first her replies [were 
 brief and few, but gradually, she took a greater 
 part in the discourse, answered at large, gave 
 him her own thoughts in return for his, in- 
 quired as well as listened, and was won often 
 to a smile. Thus they rode on for about two 
 hours, the cavalier gaining more and more 
 upon her, and to speak the truth, the high 
 qualities of her heart and mind, winning from 
 him as much admiration as her beauty and her 
 grace commanded at the first sight. 
 
 Theh' progress, as before, was very slow, and 
 once they had to pause for about a quarter of 
 an hour, while the baggage of Lord Beverley's 
 troop was brought forth from the village where 
 he had left it, and added to that of the other 
 party. At length, however, they came in 
 sight of a small town lying on the slope of a 
 hill, with, higher up towards the right, a de- 
 tached house and some tall trees about it, 
 standing in the midst of a park or very large 
 meadow, surrounded by ancient brick walls. 
 
 At this point of their march Major Kandal
 
 182 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 rode back and spoke a few words to the earl, 
 who replied, " Exactly as you like, major — I 
 am under your command." 
 
 " Nay, my lord," replied the old officer, 
 " I am under yours, you hold a higher com- 
 mission." 
 
 itj;-" But with less experience, my good friend,'^ 
 answered the cavalier ; " at all events. Major 
 Randal, I will act by your advice, if you think 
 we can reach Henley, well, — if not we will 
 halt here." 
 
 " We might, if it were not for this lumbering 
 baggage," answered the old soldier. " I can- 
 not think what has made Lord Walton, who 
 knows well what service is, cumber us with 
 such stujff as this. A trooper should never 
 have any baggage but his arms, a dozen 
 crowns, and a clean shirt." 
 
 " You must not grumble, my good friend," 
 replied the earl, dropping his voice. " If I 
 understand Charles Walton rightly, there is 
 that in those waggons which will be more ser- 
 viceable to the king than all our broad-swords."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 183 
 
 " Ah, ah ! I understand," said Major Randal. 
 " If that be so, we must take care of it, otherwise 
 I think I should be inclined to pitch the whole 
 into the first river. Well then, my lord, we will 
 stop here, and as that is your house, I believe, 
 you may sleep in your own sheets for one 
 night. We will quarter the men in the village, 
 and I will send out to see that the road is clear 
 for our march to-morrow." 
 
 " I shall expect you to supper, however, 
 major," said the earl ; " although I cannot 
 teU whether there is any meat in the house, 
 yet I know there is good old wine in the cellar, 
 unless the Roundheads have got into it since I 
 was there." 
 
 " If they have, you will not find a bottle," 
 replied Randal ; " for notwithstanding all their 
 hypocrisy, they drink as deep as cavaliers ; the 
 only difference is, that they cant where the 
 others swagger. But as for your wine, my 
 lord, you must drink it yourself for me. I am 
 an old campaigner, and my saloon is the parlour 
 of the ale-house — I am more at home there,.
 
 184 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 than amongst gilt chairs and sideboards of 
 plate." 
 
 " Good faith ! you will find little of that in 
 my house," replied the earl ; " so come if you 
 will : but in the mean time I will guide this 
 fair lady up, and take some of the men with 
 me to guard the house ; for there is but a 
 young girl and an old butler of seventy, who 
 recollects Queen Elizabeth, left to take care of 
 it. All the rest of my people are in the 
 saddle." 
 
 " That 's where they should be, my lord," 
 replied Randal. " I will make your cornet 
 quarter the men, as the place is yours, and 
 will see you before I sleep, to plan our 
 arrangements for to-morrow." 
 
 Thus saying, he rode on again ; and the 
 Earl of Beverley — after having given a few 
 orders to his officers for the disposal of the 
 force in the village, the guarding of the house, 
 and the sending back of a small detachment 
 to meet Lord Walton — rode up with his fair 
 companion and her women, by a narrow.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 185 
 
 wood -covered lane, to the lioiise upon the 
 hill. 
 
 The building was not very large, being one 
 of the old fortified houses which were common 
 in England at that time, and many of which 
 during the civil wars stood regular siege by 
 the parliamentary forces. Strong towers and 
 buttresses, heavy walls, narrow windows, and 
 one or two irregular outworks, gave it a pecu- 
 liar character, which is only to be met with 
 now in some of the old mansions which have 
 come down from those times to the present, 
 falling rapidly into decay, and generally ap- 
 plied to viler uses. As was then customary, 
 and as was the case at Bishop's Merton, a 
 wide terrace spread before the house, upon 
 which the earl and his companions drew in 
 their horses; and, before she dismounted. 
 Miss Walton turned to gaze over the view, 
 while the cavalier sprang to the ground, and, 
 casting his rein to one of the troopers who had 
 followed him, approached to aid her. 
 
 " The prospect is not so wide as at Bishop's
 
 186 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 Merton, fair lady," said he ; "but there is one 
 object in it which will be as pleasant to your 
 eye as any you could see at home. There 
 comes your brother." 
 
 " I see a party of horse," said Annie Walton, 
 " by the wood under the hill, but I cannot 
 distinguish any of the figures." r moit yhcts-o 
 
 " Oh, it is he, it is he !" cried her compa- 
 nion ; " but I see no woman amongst them." 
 
 " Alas !" said Annie Walton, " W^^X , . p^ 
 have become of that poor girl?" ,, .(■,.. 
 
 "It is strange, indeed," said the cavalier; 
 "but yet. Miss Walton, she may have been 
 alarmed, and fled while the fight was going 
 on. If any injury had happened to her, had 
 she been wounded or killed by a chance shot, 
 she must have been found by this time." 
 
 " Oh, no ; fear had nothing to do with it," 
 replied Miss Walton; "she went through 
 the midst of the fire to tell my brother of the 
 path." 
 
 " W^hy he said it was yourself," rejoined 
 Lord Beverley.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 187 
 
 " We both went," replied Annie Walton ; 
 " but she seemed to have no fear, and I confess 
 my heart beat like a very coward's." 
 
 " It is indeed strange," said the earl ; " but 
 yet, perhaps, your brother may have tidings. 
 Let me assist you to alight ;" and lifting her 
 gently from the horse, he led her into the wide 
 ancient hall, at the door of which stood the old 
 butler, with his head shaking with age, but a 
 glad look upon his countenance to see his lord 
 once more returned. 
 
 From the hall, which felt chilly and damp, 
 as if the door of the house had seldom been 
 opened to the sunshine and free air, the earl 
 conducted his companion up a flight of stone 
 steps, and through some wide unfurnished 
 corridors, to a part of the house which pre- 
 sented a more cheerful and habitable appear- 
 ance, giving a glance from time to time at the 
 countenance of Miss Walton, as if to see what 
 effect the desolate aspect of the place would 
 have upon her. Absorbed in other contem- 
 plations, however, she took no notice, and at
 
 138 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 length the cavalier called her attention to it 
 himself, saying, with a faint and somewhat sad 
 smile — 
 
 " You see, Miss Walton, what effect neglect 
 can have. During my long ahsence from 
 England everything has fallen into decay — 
 more indeed in this house than in my dwelling 
 in the north; but yet I reproach myself for 
 having given way to the very mingled feelings 
 that hept me from residing on my own land, 
 and amongst my own people. It is not indeed 
 the ruin and desolation that falls upon one's 
 property which a man ought to mind under 
 such circumstances, but when a wealthy 
 family dwells in the midst of its own tenantry, 
 they build up a better mansion than any that 
 is raised with hands, a nobler home than the 
 lordly castle or the splendid palace, I mean 
 that which is founded in the love and affection 
 of friends and dependants, ornamented with 
 kindly feelings and mutual benefits, obliga- 
 tions, gratitude, and esteem. And this is the 
 house which falls into more horrible decay
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 189 
 
 during* a long absence, than any of these 
 things of brick or stone." 
 
 " I fear indeed it is so," said Miss Walton, 
 walking on beside him into a large and hand- 
 some room, not only well furnished, but 
 presenting some most beautiful pictures of the 
 Italian school hanging upon the walls, while 
 objects of virtu and instruments of music lay 
 scattered over numerous tables, many of which 
 were in themselves excessively costly. 
 
 " But it seems to me, my lord," she con- 
 tinued, " that in some respects your house and 
 yourself are very much alike, though perhaps 
 it is bold of me to say so ; but now that I 
 know who you really are, I feel as much 
 inclined to look upon you as an old friend as 
 you did in regard to me when first we met." 
 
 " Thanks, thanks, sweet lady," answered 
 the earl. '^ Oh ! regard me ever so. But if 
 you mean that in my house and in myself 
 there are desolate and ruined corners, you are 
 mistaken. I am not one of those who have 
 either some real and deep grief overshadowing
 
 190 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 the heart for ever, or one of those who nourish 
 a sentimental sorrow for nothing at all. There 
 may be things in my own life that I regret — I 
 may have lost dear friends and relations whom 
 I mourn ; but as the common course of events 
 runs in this world, my life has been a very 
 happy one, chequered, indeed, only by one 
 terrible catastrophe, and by a great injury 
 inflicted on my family by the king whom now 
 I serve, which made me resolve like a foolish 
 boy, as I then was, never to set foot in my 
 native land while he remained in power. 
 When I found that he was fallen, dispossessed, 
 and in need, I came back in haste to serve him 
 with that loyalty which I trust will long be 
 the distinction of a British gentleman." * 
 
 " I did not exactly mean what you think," 
 replied Miss Walton ; " I merely wished to 
 remark that you seem sometimes as gay and 
 cheerful as this room in which we now are, 
 sometimes as sad and gloomy as the hall 
 through which we lately passed." She co- 
 loured a little as she spoke, from an indefinite
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 191 
 
 consciousness that the woman who remarks so 
 closely the demeanour of a young and hand- 
 some man, may be well suspected of taking 
 a deeper interest in him than she wished to 
 believe she did in her companion. 
 
 The cavalier replied at once, however, with- 
 out remarking the blush, '^ It must be so 
 ever. Miss Walton, with those who feel and 
 think. Is it not so with yourself? The spirit 
 that God gives us is made for happiness, full 
 of liigh aspirations, and bright capabilities of 
 enjoyment ; but it is placed in a world of trial 
 and of difficulty, prisoned in a corporeal frame 
 that checks and limits its exertions, chained 
 down by cares and circumstances that burden 
 its free energies. Whenever the load is not 
 felt, whenever the walls of the dungeon are 
 not seen, the captive gladly casts off the re- 
 membrance that such things exist, and rejoices 
 in their absence. But ever and anon they 
 present themselves to his eyes, or press upon 
 his limbs, and he mourns under the weight 
 that he cannot wholly cast off. But here
 
 192 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 comes your brother ; and I will only add, that 
 you shall see me sad no more, if you will 
 bargain with me that you will be cheerful 
 too." 
 
 In a few minutes Lord Walton himself 
 entered the room ; but his countenance be- 
 spoke no good tidings of her he had been 
 in search of. He had been unable to gain 
 any information whatever, though he left no 
 effort unmade ; and he was evidently deeply 
 mortified and grieved, so that the next two 
 hours passed in sadness upon all parts. 
 
 While the necessary arrangements were 
 made for lodging the party in the house for 
 the night, some occupation of a less sad 
 character than the loss of poor Arrah Neil, 
 was given to the thoughts of Miss Walton, by 
 all the little inconveniences and difficulties at- 
 tendant upon the sudden arrival of a large 
 party in a mansion unprepared for their re- 
 ception. Though accustomed through life to 
 every sort of comfort, Annie Walton was not 
 one to make much of trifles ; and she was
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 193 
 
 amused rather tliaii otherwise at all the small 
 annoyances, and at the dismay and embarrass- 
 ment of her maids. When she returned from 
 the rooms which had been assigned to her and 
 her female companions, to that which was 
 called in the house the picture-room, she 
 found her brother conversing- in the window 
 with his friend, with a bright and cheerful 
 countenance, which surprised her. The change 
 was explained in a moment, however, by 
 Charles Walton holding out a dirty strip of 
 paper to her, and saying, " Here are news 
 of our poor Arrah, Annie. She is safe, 
 although I cannot tell where." 
 
 Annie took the scrap of paper, and read, 
 merely observing as she did so, " This is not 
 Arrah's hand : she writes beautifully." 
 
 The note ran as follows : — 
 
 " My Lorde,— This is to tell you, as I heer 
 that you have been a running after pretty 
 Arrah Neil all the evening, that she is saif in 
 this place, and as well as may be. I can't 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 come just at present, for reasons ; but I will 
 be over with you by cock-crow to-morrow 
 morning, and either bring her, if I can, or 
 take you to her. — I subscribe myself, my 
 lorde, your obedient servant to command, 
 
 " John Hurst." 
 
 "Francis here," said Lord Walton, when 
 liis sister had done reading, " has been laugh- 
 ing at me for the reputation which I have 
 acquired of running after pretty Arrah Neil 
 during the whole evening ; but I think I may 
 set laughs at defiance regarding her, Annie ?" 
 
 " I thing so too," answered Miss Walton, 
 with a smile ; " but I wish we knew where 
 she is." 
 
 As often happens, however, when, in the 
 midst of many cares and anxieties, one sub- 
 ject of alarm and grief is removed, all the 
 rest are forgotten for the time, the news of 
 poor Arrali's safety restored the cheerfulness 
 of all the party. We draw an augury of 
 future happiness from each blessing that be-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 195 
 
 falls US, from each relief that is afforded ; and 
 it is not till new difficulties press upon us that 
 apprehension resumes her sway. 
 
 Cheerfulness then returned to the party 
 assembled in Lord Beverley's house ; they sat 
 down to the pleasant evening meal, which 
 closed a day of strife and danger, with hearts 
 lightened, and expectations raised ; the merry 
 voices of the troopers who were supping in 
 the hall below, gave them warning how best 
 to treat the cares of the time; and if an 
 anxiety or thought of the future did break in 
 for a moment upon them, it was but to teach 
 them to enjoy the present hour, inasmuch as 
 no forethought or grave contemplation could 
 affect the coming events. Lord Beverley ex- 
 erted himself, without any apparent effort, to 
 keep the conversation in its cheerful tone ; 
 and when Miss Walton made some inquiries 
 as to any danger or difficulty which might 
 lie upon the march of the following day, he 
 exclaimed gaily, — " Away with such thoughts, 
 fair lady: we have taken every precaution; 
 o 2
 
 196 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 we have done all that we can to guard against 
 evil ; we have true hearts and a good cause ; 
 and in trust of God's protection let us enjoy 
 these hours of tranquillity. They are trea- 
 sures, believe me, that are not often met with ; 
 let us gather them whilst we can. The best 
 of husbandry, depend upon it, is to sift the 
 corn from the chaff, to separate the gold from 
 the dross in the portion of time that is allotted 
 to us, and not to mingle the sorrow of to- 
 morrow with the enjoyment of to-day. Come, 
 Miss \Yalton," he added, " you must add to 
 our present happiness by letting us hear once 
 more that sweet voice in song, such as de- 
 lighted me at Bishop's Merton." 
 
 " Nay, not to-night," said Annie Walton. 
 " It is your turn now, my lord. By all these 
 instruments of music, I am sure you sing 
 yourself. Is it not so, Charles ?" 
 
 " Beautifully !" replied Lord AYalton ; " and 
 what is better than all, Annie, he requires no 
 pressing." 
 
 " I will, with all my heart," replied the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 197 
 
 cavalier, but upon one condition— that I am 
 called no more my lord. Charles Walton 
 and Francis Beverley have been too long- 
 brothers, for the sister of either to use so cold 
 a term. What shall I sing? It must be of 
 love in a lady's presence, otherwise were I no 
 true knight ;" and taking a large Venetian 
 mandolin from the table behind him, he put it 
 in tune, and sung — 
 
 Light of my life, my heart's intense desire, 
 Soul of my soul, thou blossom and thou beam ; 
 
 Thou kindlest day with more than summer's fire, 
 Thou bright'nest night like some celestial dream. 
 
 The sight of thee gives sunshine to my way, 
 Thy music breath brings rapture to my ear j 
 
 My thoughts thy thoughts, like willing slaves, obey, 
 Oh, thou most beautiful, oh, thou most dear ! 
 
 One look of thine is worth a monarch's throne, 
 One smile from thee would raise the dying head ; 
 
 One tear of thine would melt the heart of stone ; 
 One kiss, one kiss, would vivify the dead.
 
 198 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 Near thee the hours like moments fleet away ; 
 
 Absent, they linger heavy on the view : 
 In life, in death, oh, let me with thee stay ! 
 
 Oh, thou most beautiful, most good, most true ! 
 
 The voice was rich and mellow, with all the 
 cultivation which the art of Italy could at that 
 time bestow. There was no effort, there was 
 nothing forced — every note seemed as much a 
 part of the expression of the thought as the 
 words in which it was clothed. But there 
 was a fire, a warmth, an enthusiasm in the 
 singer, which gave full depth and power to 
 the whole. It was impossible to see him 
 and to hear him without forgetting that he 
 was singing a song composed probably long 
 before, and without believing that he was 
 giving voice, in the only way his feelings 
 would permit, to the sensations of the mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Annie Walton knew not why, but her heart 
 beat quickly as she sat and listened, the long 
 black eyelashes of her beautiful eyes remained
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 199 
 
 sunk towards the ground, and her fair cheek 
 became pale as marble. She would fain have 
 looked up when the song was done, she would 
 fain have thanked the cavalier, and expressed 
 her admiration of his music ; but she could do 
 neither, and remained perfectly silent, while 
 her brother remarked the emotion which she 
 felt, and turned his eyes with a smile from her 
 countenance to that of his friend. 
 
 But the earl, too, had fallen into thought, 
 and, with his hand leaning upon the mandolin, 
 which he had suffered to drop by his knee till 
 it reached the floor, seemed gazing upon the 
 frets, as if the straight lines of ivory contained 
 some matter of serious contemplation. Miss 
 Walton coloured as she marked the silence, 
 and, looking suddenly up, said one or two 
 common- place words, which at once betrayed 
 an effort. They served, however, to renew 
 the conversation again. 
 
 Another and another song succeeded, and, 
 after about an hour spent in this manner, the 
 party separated and retired to rest, while
 
 200 ARRAH neil; or, 
 
 Annie Walton asked herself, with an agitated 
 breast, " What is the meaning of this ?" The 
 sensations were new to her, and for more 
 than an hour they banished sleep from her 
 pillow. 
 
 ^rlt rao'it
 
 TIMES OF OLD» 201 
 
 CHAPTER IX: 
 
 We must now change the scene, and, without 
 much consideration of the " pathos and bathos 
 delightful to see," must remove the reader 
 from the higher and more refined society of 
 Lord Walton, his sister, and the Earl of 
 Beverley, to the small sanded parlour of the 
 little alehouse in the village. We must also 
 advance in point of time for about three hours, 
 and put the hour hand of the clock midway 
 between the figures one and two, while the 
 minute hand was quietly passing over the six. 
 All was still in the place ; the soldiery were 
 taking their brief repose, except a sentinel 
 who walked up and down, pistol in hand, at 
 each entrance of the village ; and the villagers
 
 202 ARRAII NEIL ; OR, 
 
 themselves, having recovered from the excite- 
 ment caused by the arrival of the party, and 
 the drinking and merriment which followed 
 it, had taken possession of such beds as the 
 troopers left them, and were enjoying the 
 sweet but hard-earned slumber of daily la- 
 bour. 
 
 Two living creatures occupied the parlour 
 of the alehouse : a large tabby cat, who— as if 
 afraid that the mice upon which she waged 
 such interminable and strategetic war might 
 take advantage of her own slumbers to sur- 
 prise her — had mounted upon a three-legged 
 stool, and was enjoying her dreams in peaee, 
 curled up in a comfortable ball ; and Captain 
 Barecolt, who, seated in a wooden arm-chair 
 with his long leg-bones, still in their im- 
 memorial boots, stretched upon another, kept 
 watch, if such it could be called, with a large 
 jug of ale beside him, from which he took 
 every now and then deep draughts, for the 
 purpose, as he mentally declared, " of keeping 
 himself awake."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 203 
 
 The effect was not exactly such as he ex- 
 pected, for from time to time he fell into a 
 doze, from which a sort of drowsy conscious- 
 ness of the proximity of the ale roused him up 
 every quarter of an hour, to make a new 
 application to the tankard. At length, feel- 
 ing that these naps were becoming longer, he 
 drew his legs off the chair, muttering — 
 
 " This won't do ! I shall have that dried 
 herring, Randal, upon me; I must take a 
 pipe, and smoke it out." 
 
 And thereupon he moved hither and thither 
 in the parlour, looking for the implements 
 necessary in the operation to which he was 
 about to apply himself. These were speedily 
 found, and a few whiffs soon enveloped him in 
 a cloud as thick as that in which Homer's 
 Jove was accustomed to enshrine himself on 
 solemn occasions ; and, in the midst of this, 
 the worthy captain continued ruminating upon 
 the mighty deeds he had done and was to do. 
 
 He thought over the past, and congratu- 
 lated himself upon his vast renown ; f )i* Cap-
 
 204 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 tain Barecolt was one of those liappy men 
 who have a facility of believing their own 
 fictions. He was convinced, that if he could 
 but count them up, he had performed more 
 feats of valour, and slaughtered more bloody 
 enemies than Amadis de Gaul, Launcelot of 
 the Lake, the Admiral de Coligni, or the 
 Duke of Alva. It was true, he thought such 
 events soon passed from the minds of great 
 men, being common occurrences with them, 
 so that he could not remember one half of 
 what he had done, which he only regretted for 
 the sake of society ; but he was quite sure that 
 whenever opportunities served he should be 
 found superior to any of the great captains of 
 the age, and that merit and time must lead 
 him to the highest distinction. This led him 
 on to futurity, and he made up his mind, that 
 the first thing he would do should be, to save 
 the king's life when attacked on every side 
 by fifteen or sixteen horsemen. For this, of 
 course, he would be knighted on the spot, and 
 receive the command of a regiment of horse.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 205 
 
 with wliicli he proposed to march at once to 
 London, depose the lord mayor, and, pro- 
 ceeding to the parliament-house, dissolve the 
 parliament, seize the speaker and twelve of 
 the principal members, and hang Sir Harry 
 Vane. This, he thought, would be work 
 enough for one day ; but the next morn- 
 ing he would march out with all the ca- 
 valiers he could collect, defeat the Earl of 
 Essex on one side, rout Waller on the 
 other, and then, with his prisoners, pro- 
 ceed to head - quarters, where, of course, 
 he would be appointed general-in-chief, and 
 in that capacity would bring the king to 
 London. ^^j m itiB o 
 
 What he would do next was a matter of 
 serious consideration, for the war being at an 
 end, Othello's occupation was gone; and as, 
 during all this time, he had made sundry 
 applications to his friend the tankard, his ima- 
 gination was becoming somewhat heavy on 
 the wing, so that in a minute or two after he 
 fell sound asleep, while the pipe dropped un-
 
 206 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 noticed from his hand, and fractured its collar- 
 bone upon the floor. 
 
 He had scarcely been asleep ten minutes, 
 when the door of the room slowly opened, 
 and a round head covered with short curls 
 was thrust in, with part of a burly pair of 
 shoulders. The door was then pushed partly 
 ojDen, and in walked a stout man in a good 
 brown coat, who, advancing quietly to the 
 side of Captain Deciduous Barecolt, laid his 
 hand upon his arm. Now, what Captain 
 Barecolt was dreaming of at that moment, 
 it is impossible for the author of these pages 
 to tell ; but his vision would appear to have 
 been pugnacious, for the instant the intruder's 
 grasp touched his left arm, he started up, 
 and, stretching out his right hand to a pistol 
 which lay between the tankard and himself on 
 the table, snatched it up, levelled it at the 
 head of his visitor, and pulled the trigger. 
 
 Luckily for the brains, such as they were, 
 of poor John Hurst (for he was the person 
 who had entered), in the last unsteady pota-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 207 
 
 tions of the bellicose captain, a few drops of 
 ale had been spilt upon the pan of the deadly 
 weapon ; and, though the flint struck fire, no 
 flash succeeded, much to the astonishment of 
 Barecolt, and the relief of his companion. 
 
 "D — n the man!" cried Hurst, reeling 
 back in terror ; " what art thou about ? Dost 
 thou go to shoot a man without asking, ' with 
 your leave, or by your leave 1 ' " 
 
 " !N'ever wake a sleeping tiger !" exclaimed 
 Barecolt, with a graceful wave of his hand. 
 "You may think yourself profoundly lucky, 
 master yeoman, that you have got as much 
 brains left in that round box of yours as will 
 serve to till your farm ; for this hand never 
 yet missed anything within shot of a pistol or 
 reach of a sword. I remember very well 
 once, in the island of Sardinia, a Corsican 
 thought fit to compare his nose to mine, upon 
 which I told him that the first time we met I 
 would leave him no nose to boast of. He 
 being a wise man, kept ever after out of reach 
 of my hands ; but one day, when he thought
 
 208 
 
 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 himself in security upon a liigli l3ank, lie 
 called out to me — ' Ha ! ha ! capitaine, I have 
 got my nose still!' upon which, drawing out 
 my pistol, I aimed at his face, and, though the 
 distance was full a hundred yards, with the 
 first shot I cut off his proboscis at the root, so 
 that it dropped down upon the road, and I 
 picked it up and put it in my pocket." 
 
 " It must have been somewhat thin in the 
 stalk," said Hurst; "no good stout English 
 nose, I warrant you. But come, captain, you 
 must take me up to my lord. The sentry 
 passed me on to you, and I want help directly, 
 for there is a nest of Roundheads not five miles 
 from here, who have got that poor little girl in 
 their hands, and are brewing mischief against 
 us to-morrow. Half a dozen men may take 
 them to-night, but we may have hard work of 
 it if we wait till daylight." 
 
 Captain Barecolt paused and meditated ; a 
 glorious opportunity of buying distinction cheap 
 seemed now before him, and the only difficulty 
 was, how to keep it all in his own hands.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 209 
 
 " I cannot disturb the commander," lie said, 
 in a solemn tone, after a few minutes' con- 
 sideration ; " that 's quite impossible, my friend. 
 Faith, if you want help, you must be content 
 with mine and half a dozen soldiers of my 
 troop. I am a poor creature, it is true," he 
 continued, in a tone of affected modesty, " and 
 not able to do so much service as some men. 
 I never killed above seventeen enemies in a 
 day ; and the best thing I have to boast of is, 
 having blown up a fort containing three 
 hundred men with my own unassisted hand. 
 However, what poor aid I can give, you may 
 command. Wc will take six picked men with 
 us, if that be enough, you and I will make 
 eight, and if there be not more than a hundred 
 and fifty of the enemy, I think we could 
 manage." 
 
 " A hundred and fifty I" cried Hurst. "Why, 
 there are but seven, and one of them is not a 
 fighting man." 
 
 " Whom may they be?" asked Barecolt, in 
 a solemn tone ; " if there be but seven, we 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 shall have no need of any men ; I will go 
 alone. Who may they be ?" 
 
 " Wliy, there's that Captain Batten, whom 
 my lord took away prisoner, I hear," replied 
 Hurst; "then there's a Dr. Bastwick, a 
 parliamentary committee man ; then there 's 
 old Dry, of Longsoaken, who dragged away 
 the girl while you were all fighting at the 
 bridge ; the other four are, I hear, common 
 councilmen of Coventry, though they are all 
 decked out in buff and bandolier, as if they 
 were fire-eating soldiers just come from the 
 wars. They were laying a plan before they 
 went to bed for bringing troops from Coventry 
 round about my lord and his men, while two 
 regiments of Essex's, that are marching into 
 the north, were to have warning, and cut ofi* 
 the retreat." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" cried Captain Barecolt, 
 ** we will cut off theirs. Have you got a horse, 
 master yeoman ? I think yours was killed in 
 the field?" 
 
 *' Ay, that it was," answered Hurst, " to my
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 211 
 
 loss and sorrow ; as good a beast as was ever 
 crossed, and cost me twenty pound." 
 
 "We will mount you, we will mount you," 
 said tlie captain ; " there are a dozen and more 
 good horses which forgot their riders yesterday, 
 and left them lying by the bridge. We may 
 as well have half a dozen men with us, how- 
 ever, just to tie the prisoners, for that is not 
 work for gentlemen ; so you sit dov/n and take 
 a glass of ale, and I will get all things ready." 
 
 In the course of about a quarter of an hour 
 or twenty minutes, Captain Barecolt had called 
 to his aid eight men of the troop whom he- 
 could most depend upon ; and after having 
 brought down Major Randal's cornet to take- 
 his post during his absence, and mounted good' 
 John Hurst on the horse of a trooper who had 
 been killed the day before, he led the way out 
 of the little town, and, guided by the yeoman 
 across the country, advanced slowly towards 
 another village situated in the plain about five 
 or six miles from that in which they had taken 
 up their quarters. The country was open, 
 p 2
 
 212 
 
 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 without woods or hedges, but the night was 
 profoundly dark, and the wind sighing in long 
 gusts over the open fields. Nothing was to be 
 seen except the glimmer of a piece of water 
 here and there, till they approached the village 
 to which their steps were bent ; when one or 
 two lights became visible amongst the houses, 
 as if, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour 
 all the inhabitants had not yet retired to rest. 
 One of these lights, too, as if proceeding from 
 a lantern, appeared moving about in the gar- 
 dens ; and Captain Barecolt, turning to Hurst, 
 asked him, in a low voice — 
 
 " What is the meaning of those lights ?" 
 
 " I don't know," answered the yeoman, 
 "It was all dark when I crept away." 
 
 " We shall soon see," rejoined Barecolt. 
 "You are sure there are no troops in the 
 place ?" 
 
 "There were none when I left it," replied 
 Hurst ; but almost as he spoke, a loud voice 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " Stand ! Who goes there ?"
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 213 
 
 " A friend," answered Barecolt. 
 
 " Stand ! and give the word," repeated the 
 voice, and at the same moment, a small red 
 spot of fire, as if produced by a man blowing 
 a match, appeared immediately before them ; 
 and Barecolt, sparring on his horse, found 
 himself in the presence of a matchlock man, 
 at whose head he aimed a cut with his heavy 
 sword, which rang sharply upon a steel cap, 
 and brought the man upon his knee. 
 
 " He fired his piece, however, but he missed 
 his mark, and threw down the gun, while 
 Barecolt, catching him by the shoulder, put 
 his sword to his throat, exclaiming — 
 
 " Yield, or you are a dead man !" 
 
 The sentinel had no hesitation on the sub- 
 ject, having already received a sharp wound 
 on the head, which left him little inclination to 
 court more. 
 
 " Now, tell me who is in the village," ex- 
 claimed Barecolt : " and see you tell truth, for 
 your life depends upon it." 
 
 "Three companies of Colonel Harris's re-
 
 214 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 giment," answered the soldier, "and a troop 
 of Lord Essex's own liorse." 
 
 " The number?" demanded Barecolt. 
 
 " Four hundred foot, and a hundred troop- 
 ers," replied the man; and having* a little 
 recovered from his first apprehension, he 
 demanded — " Whom may you be ?" 
 
 " My name is Johnson," answered Barecolt, 
 readily, " first captain of Sir Nicholas Jarvis's 
 regiment of horse, marching up to join the 
 Earl of Beverley and Lord Walton at Hendon, 
 near Coventry. We thought they were quar- 
 tered in this village : whereabout do they lie V* 
 
 " Oh, no," answered the man, " they are 
 five miles to the east we hear, and we were to 
 attack them on the march to-morrow." ' '^^ " 
 
 " Are you telling me the truth ?" said Bare- '' 
 colt, in a stern tone ; " but I will make sure of 
 that, for I will take you with me to Sir^ 
 Nicholas Jarvis, and if we find you have 
 cheated us as to where they lie, you shall be 
 shot to-morrow at daybreak. Tie his hands' * 
 some of you hark! there is a drum!
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 215 
 
 There, curse Iiiin, let him go, we have no time 
 to spare ; I must get back to Sir Nicholas, 
 and let him know we are on the wrong road.'* 
 
 Thus saying, he turned his horse and rode 
 away, followed by the rest of his party ; while 
 the tramp of men coming down fast from the 
 village was heard behind them. fBimj) 
 
 The reader need not be told that Captain 
 Barecolt never had the slightest intention of 
 carrying off the wounded sentinel with him ; 
 for having filled him with false intelligence 
 regarding the march of his imaginary regiment, 
 he w^as very glad to leave him behind to com- 
 municate it to his fellows in the place. In the 
 mean while, he himself gave orders for putting 
 the horses into a quick trot, and returning 
 with all speed to the village ; where, without 
 communicating any tidings he had gained to 
 any one, he left his men, and hurried up with 
 Hurst to the mansion on the hill. ^ 
 
 The earl and Lord Walton were immediately- 
 called up, and Barecolt, being admitted to 
 their presence, made his statement. We are
 
 216 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 by no means so rash as to assert, that the 
 account he gave was altogether true, for 
 Captain Deciduous Barecolt, much more skil- 
 ful than the writer of this tale, never lost sight 
 of his hero, and his hero was always himself; 
 but, at all events, the intelligence he brought 
 of the enemy was accurate enough, and the 
 stratagem he had used to deceive the foe, 
 was also told correctly and received great 
 commendation. He was sent down imme- 
 diately, however, to call Major Randal to the 
 council, and, in the mean time, the two young 
 noblemen eagerly questioned Hurst as to what 
 he had seen and heard amongst the adverse 
 party. 
 
 The good yeoman's tale was told briefly and 
 simply, and showed the following facts. After 
 his horse had been killed, he had carried off 
 his saddle and the other worldly goods which 
 he possessed ; and finding that, without being 
 of any service to his party, he was in immi- 
 nent danger of losing his own life from the 
 stray shots that were flying about in different
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 217 
 
 directions, lie made the best of his way to the 
 back of the little mound we have mentioned, 
 and thence peeped out to see the progress of 
 the fioht. Perceiving; at one time, as he ima- 
 gined, the small force of Royalists wavering in 
 their attack upon the musketeers, he judged 
 it expedient, lest his friends should be de- 
 feated, to put a greater distance between him- 
 self and the enemy ; and taking all the articles 
 that were most valuable to him out of the 
 saddle, he left it behind him, and hurried on 
 for about a mile farther, where he took up his 
 position in a ditch. While thus ensconced, 
 he saw the well-known form of Mr. Dry, of 
 Longsoaken, together with that of another 
 gentleman, whom he afterwards found to be 
 Captain Batten. Between these two appeared 
 poor Arrah Neil, of whose arm Dry retained 
 a firm grasp, while he held a pistol in his 
 right hand, under the authority of which he 
 seemed to be hurrying her on unresistingly. 
 
 In about a quarter of an hour more, some 
 fugitive musketeers ran by as fast as they
 
 218 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 could go ; and shortly after, several of Major 
 Randal's troopers apj^eared in pursuit ; but as 
 Hurst was unacquainted witli the soldiers, he 
 prudently resolved to lie concealed where he 
 was till some of his lord's followers should 
 come up, which he calculated would be 
 shortly the case, fearing he might be taken 
 for one of the enemy, or at all events that he 
 might be plundered by a friend — an operation 
 as common in those days as in the present, 
 though then it was done with pistol and 
 broadsword, and now, in general, with pen 
 and ink. 
 
 Towards the end of the day some of Lord 
 Walton's men did appear, and spoke a word 
 to him in passing, from which he gathered 
 that they were searching for Arrali Neil ; but 
 with the usual acuteness of persons sent upon 
 a search, they rode on without waiting for anj^.^ 
 information he could give. Having markej^^j 
 the road which Dry and his companions hafL^r 
 taken, Hurst then determined to follow t em, 
 and made his way to the village, in which
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 219 
 
 they halted for the night. His plan had 
 proved successful, he said ; he had found 
 the two parliamentary committee-men, to- 
 gether with Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, lodged 
 in a house in the village, and boldly seeking 
 out Dry, he gave him to understand tkat he 
 had been taken by Lord Walton to join the 
 king against his will, and was now making 
 the best of his way home. He affected some 
 fear of being overtaken ; and in order to re- 
 assure him. Dry and Dr. Bastwick communi- 
 cated to him the intelligence they received in 
 the course of the evening from the men of 
 Coventry, in regard to the movement of par- 
 liamentary forces. This took place some 
 hours subsequent, however, to the despatch 
 of his note to Lord Walton, and he could not 
 make his escape from the village, in order to 
 carry more accurate tidings to his young 
 landlord, till Dry and the rest had retired to ' 
 belli" '' 
 
 As soon as Major Randal arrived, a hasty ' 
 consultation was held, to ascertain the course
 
 220 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 of proceedings whicli it would be expedient 
 to follow. It was determined, notwithstand- 
 ing great reluctance on the part of Lord Wal- 
 ton, to leave poor Arrah Neil in the hands 
 of Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, that the march 
 should be immediately commenced ; and or- 
 ders were given to that effect, which at once 
 produced all the bustle and confusion of 
 hasty departure. Miss Walton was called up, 
 and, dressing herself hastily, was soon placed 
 upon horseback once more, for it was deter- 
 mined to leave the carriages behind ; and in 
 about an hour the two noblemen and their 
 followers, with Major Randal's troop, were 
 marching on, in the gray of the dawn, direct- 
 ing their steps towards Coventry. A small 
 guard was left over the prisoners, with orders 
 to remain behind about an hour, and then to 
 leave them and follow with all speed, in order 
 that the departure of the troops might be 
 accomplished as secretly as possible. IN'o 
 trumpet was sounded ; and if it had been pos- 
 sible to carry out King Lear's plan, and shoe
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 221 
 
 a troop of horse with felt, it would have been 
 upon the present occasion. 
 
 Though tliat could not be accomplished, all 
 their proceedings were conducted with as 
 much silence as possible ; and Miss Walton, 
 riding between her brother and the Earl of 
 Beverley, had plenty of time for thought. The 
 sky had changed from gray to purple and 
 gold; the expanse of the heavens had lost 
 its glorious hues, as the sun rose up above 
 the horizon ; and the morning of a somewhat 
 dull and heavy day had fully dawned ere any 
 one spoke, except, indeed, when the few short 
 words of command and direction were neces- 
 sary. The countenance of Lord Walton was 
 grave, and even sad ; and his sister, who 
 watched it with some anxiety, at length in- 
 quired — 
 
 ^ ' " Do you anticipate any great danger, 
 Charles ? You look very gloomy." 
 
 " Oh no, dearest Annie," he answered; " I 
 think we are so far before our enemies that 
 we shall without doubt be able to join the
 
 222 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 king before they are aware of our departure. 
 But I cannot think of being obliged to leave 
 that poor girl in the hands of that old hypo- 
 crite, Dry, without feeling very sad. If he 
 treat her ill, woe be to him should he and I 
 ever meet again ; but I trust he will be afraid 
 to endanger his sanctified reputation. That is 
 my only hope. 
 
 The earl now joined in with that tone of 
 calm cheerfulness which is the most persua- 
 sive of hope ; and with the peculiar charms of 
 his conversation, and the continual and bril- 
 liant variety which it disj)layed, led the 
 thoughts of his companions to happier themes, 
 and almost made them believe that brighter 
 days were before them. Since the preceding 
 niu,ht his manner had much chanojed towards 
 Miss Walton : there was a tenderness in it, a 
 softness, a tone which can only be called the 
 tone of love ; and though both were more 
 silent than they previously had been, yet each, 
 in that silence, was thinking of the other, and 
 it is very dangerous so to do, unless we are
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 223 
 
 disposed to yield to feelings whicli in the end 
 may master us altogether. Coquetry may 
 talk, may carry on uninterrui^ted observation 
 and reply ; indifference may pursue the calm 
 and easy current of conversation ; and avowed 
 and satisfied love may hold unbroken com- 
 munion upon all the many subjects of thought 
 and imagination; but in its early day true 
 passion is fitful in its eloquence, fidl of silence 
 and interruptions, for it is full of thought ; and 
 the voice of feeling is often the strongest when 
 the lips are motionless and the tongue is mute. 
 
 But we will dwell no more upon such mat- 
 ters, for we have action before us instead of 
 thought, deeds rather than sensations. After 
 a march of about four hours, and a short 
 pause for refreshment, the advanced party of 
 the troop was seen to halt upon a small emi- 
 nence, while one of the troopers rode back at 
 full speed, bringing the intelligence that they 
 descried a considerable body of men drawn up 
 at a short distance from Coventry. 
 
 " Are we so near ?" said Miss Walton.
 
 224 AREAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 " Within three miles," replied the earl. 
 " That is the spire of St. Michael's church 
 rising over the slope. You will see the city 
 as soon as we pass the rise. Think you these 
 are the king's troops. Major Randal ?" 
 
 " Ay, such troops as they are," answered 
 the old officer ; " we must have more and 
 better before we do much service." 
 
 " It will be as well to despatch some one to 
 see," said Lord Walton. " I will send two 
 of my servants, major. Here, Langan and 
 Hartup, ride on with all speed, and bring 
 me back news of the people who are before 
 Coventry. I cannot divine why the king 
 should halt before the gates." 
 
 *' There may be rogues within," said Major 
 Randal. And so it proved ; for on their 
 arrival at the topof the slope, where Coven- 
 try, with its wide walls and beautiful spires, 
 rose fair before them, they saw a fire of mus- 
 ketry opened from the city upon a small party 
 of royalist troops, which approached too near 
 the gates.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 225 
 
 Marching rapidly on, as soon as it was 
 ascertained that the force they saw was that 
 of Charles himself, they soon reached the 
 monarch's army, if so it could be called, and 
 Annie Walton found herself in the midst of a 
 new and animated scene. 
 
 The king's face expressed much grief and 
 vexation, as, sitting upon a powerful horse, he 
 consulted with some of his principal officers 
 as to what was to be done on the rebellious 
 refusal of Coventry to give him admission. 
 But when he turned to receive the little re- 
 inforcement which now joined him, his coun- 
 tenance assumed a glad and cheerful look; 
 and as Lord Walton, dismounting, approached 
 his stirrup, he held out his hand to him gra- 
 ciously, saying — 
 
 " Those are kind friends and loyal subjects, 
 indeed, my lord, ^vho rally round their sove- 
 reign v^hen more favoured men forsake him. 
 Your own presence, my good sir, is the best 
 Answer you could give to my letters. We 
 must retreat, I fear, however, from before 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 these inhospitable walls, for we have no 
 cannon to blow open their gates, and even 
 if I had, I could wish to spare my subjects. 
 
 " Ah ! sire," said Major Randal, who had 
 also advanced to the king's side, " when sub- 
 jects draw the sword against their king, both 
 parties should throw away the scabbard, for it 
 is the blade must decide all." 
 
 "Too rough, and yet too true," said his 
 Majesty ; and after a few more words ad- 
 dressed to Lord Beverley and Miss Walton, 
 the king turned his horse and rode off with 
 his attendants towards Stonely, leaving the 
 small force by which he was accompanied to 
 follow.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 227 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Three or four days had elapsed, and the 
 party in whose fate we have interested our- 
 selves had reached the town of Nottingham 
 in safety ; but gloom and despondency hung 
 over the court of the king, over the small 
 force at his command, and over the whole 
 city. Proclamation had been made for all 
 loyal subjects to join the monarch in Notting- 
 ham ; and it had been announced on that day, 
 the 25th of August, 1642, that Charles would 
 set up his royal standard against his rebellious 
 parliament. Few persons, however, joined 
 him — not a single regiment of foot had been 
 raised — the body of horse which he had led to 
 Coventry, had been little increased since he 
 Q 2
 
 228 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 had retreated from that city — the artillery and 
 ammunition from York had not yet arrived — 
 and sadness was upon every brovr, and appre- 
 hension in every heart. 
 
 The evening was dark and gloomy, the 
 wind rising in sharp and howling gusts, a few 
 large drops of rain were borne upon the blast, 
 and everything promised a night of tempest, 
 when the king, accompanied by all the no- 
 blemen and gentlemen who had joined him, 
 set out on horseback for the hill on which 
 stands the old castle of Nottingham, with the 
 knight marshal before him bearing the royal 
 standard, and a small body of the train bands 
 accompanying it as a guard. On reaching the 
 spot destined for the ceremony, the standard 
 pole was fixed with great difficulty, amidst the 
 roll of the drum and the loud blasts of the 
 trumpet. But neither the war-stirring sound 
 of the drum, nor the inspiring voice of the 
 trumpet could cheer the hearts of those 
 around, or give them confidence even in the 
 success of a good cause ; and, with the same
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 229 
 
 sadness with which they had gone thither, the 
 royal party returned from the castle hill just 
 as the evening was growing grey with night. 
 
 Some four or five hours after, Lord Walton, 
 who had participated fully in the gloomy feel- 
 ings which pervaded the whole court, rose 
 from the supper table at which he had been 
 seated with his sister, the Earl of Beverley, 
 and one or two friends who had joined them 
 in Nottingham, and saying — 
 
 " My head aches, dearest Annie ; I will 
 walk up to the castle hill, and take a look 
 at the standard. The air will do me 
 good." 
 
 " I will go with you, Charles," said Miss 
 Walton, rising. *' I will not keep you a 
 minute." 
 
 " Nay, not in such a night as this, Annie,'' 
 answered her brother. " Do you not hear how 
 the wind blows, as if it would force in those 
 rattling casements." 
 
 " Oh, I mind not the wind," replied Annie 
 Walton ; " you shall lend me your arm.
 
 230 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 Charles; it will always be strong enough to 
 steady your sister's steps." 
 
 " God grant it, dear one," replied Lord 
 Walton. " Well, come ! I do wish to talk 
 with you, Annie, upon many things;" and 
 in a few minutes they were in the streets of 
 Nottingham. 
 
 The wind was even more strong than they 
 had expected, but the tall houses of the good 
 old town, though exposed by its position to 
 the blasts, gave them some shelter ; and as 
 they walked along, Lord Walton, after a few 
 minutes' silence, put his right hand upon his 
 sister's, which grasjied his arm, and said, " I 
 wish to speak to you of the future, dear one. 
 Danger and strife are before me. It is im- 
 possible for you to follow the movements of an 
 army, and therefore I wish, before I march 
 hence, to take you to the house of our good 
 old cousin. Lady Margaret Langley, where 
 you may rest in safety." 
 
 *' I will go, Charles, if you wish it," replied 
 Miss Walton ; " but it must be only upon the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 231 
 
 condition that no restraint be put upon my 
 movements, and that whenever there is a 
 pause in the war, I may be allowed to follow, 
 and be near you." 
 
 " Of course, dear sister," replied her brother^ 
 " I don't pretend to restrain you in anything* 
 Annie. You are old enough, and wise enough, 
 and good enough, to decide entirely upon your 
 own actions. You must keep several of the 
 servants with you to guard you and protect 
 you wherever you go. Y^ou must also have a 
 sufficient sum to put you above any circum- 
 stances of difficulty, whatever you may think 
 fit to do." 
 
 " Oh ! I have the jewels, you know, Charles,'* 
 said Miss Walton, " and more money of my 
 own with me than will be needful." 
 
 "Well, we will see to that hereafter," said 
 Lord Walton ; "but there is another subject 
 on which I would speak to you. No one can 
 tell what may be the chance of war. I may 
 go safely through the whole of this sad strife, 
 and see the end of it. I may fall the first
 
 232 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 shot that is fired. But if I do, Annie, you 
 will need some strong arm and powerful 
 mind to protect and support you. In that 
 case, I would leaA'e you, as a legacy, as a 
 trust, as a charge, to the best friend I have 
 on earth, — the oldest, the dearest. — Francis 
 Beverley loves you, Annie." 
 
 " Hush ! oh, hush ! Charles," cried Miss 
 Walton, and he felt her hand tremble upon 
 his arm. 
 
 " Nay, sweet sister," continued her brother, 
 '* I asked you for no confessions. Your tale is 
 told already, dear girl. All I ask is, will you, 
 when I am gone, without reserve or woman's 
 vain reluctance, trust in him, rely on him, as 
 you do on me ?" 
 
 His sister was silent for a moment, and he 
 repeated — " Will you, Annie, forget all coy- 
 ness, all unkind and ungenerous diffidence, 
 and, recollecting he has been a brother to 
 your brother, confide in him as such?" ^j^x^p^ 
 
 Annie Walton paused again for a single 
 instant, and then, with her face bent down.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 233 
 
 though no one could see her glowing cheek 
 in the darkness, she murmured, " I will." 
 
 Lord Walton pressed her hand in his, and 
 then in silence led the way up to the hill. 
 
 It was with difficulty that they ascended, so 
 fierce were the gusts of wind ; but the very 
 violence of the blast scattered from time to 
 time the drifting clouds, and the moon occa- 
 sionally looked forth and cast a wavering light 
 upon their path. Not a soul, however, did 
 they meet in their way ; all was still and silent 
 but the howling of the tempest, till, at length, 
 when they reached the top, the voice of a 
 sentinel exclaimed as usual, — " Stand ! Who 
 goes there V 
 
 " A friend," replied Lord Walton ; and be- 
 fore the man could demand it, he gave the 
 word for the night, saying, " The crown." 
 
 " Pass !" replied the sentinel ; and he 
 walked on with his sister clinging to his 
 arm. 
 
 The moon shone out again ; and Miss 
 Walton and her brother both gazed forwards
 
 234 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 towards the spot where the standard had 
 stood. They could not see it ; and hurrying 
 on their steps, they found four or five of the 
 train band standing round the place. The 
 standard itself was lying flat upon the ground. 
 In answer to Lord Walton's questions, the 
 men informed him, that the wind had blown it 
 down, and that they found it was impossible 
 to raise it again ; and turning sadly away, the 
 young nobleman murmured in a low voice to 
 his sister, " God send this be not an omen of 
 our royal master's fate !"
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 235 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 In a small tavern at Nottingham was a large 
 but low-roofed room — with the heavy beams, 
 blackened by smoke, almost touching the 
 heads of some of the taller guests — in which, 
 on the night after that of which we have just 
 spoken, were assembled as many persons as 
 it could well contain ; and a strange scene of 
 confusion it presented. Hats and feathers, 
 swords and daggers, pipes and glasses, bottles 
 and plates, big men and little, men of war 
 and men of peace ; an atmosphere composed 
 of smoke, of the fumes of wine, the smell of 
 stong waters and of beer, and the odour of 
 several large pieces of roast meat, together 
 with sounds of innumerable kinds, — oaths.
 
 236 
 
 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 cries for the tapster and the boy, loud 
 laughter, low murmurs, the hoarse accusa- 
 tion, the fierce rejoinder, the sustained dis- 
 cussion, the prosy tale, and the dull snore, as 
 well as the half-drunken song, had all their 
 place in the apartment, which might well 
 have been supposed the tap-room of the tower 
 of Babel. The house was, in short, a place 
 of resort for the lower order of cavaliers, 
 and the hour that at which the greater part, 
 having supped, were betaking themselves 
 to their drink with the laudable determina- 
 tion, then but too common, of leaving them- 
 selves as little wit as possible till the next 
 morning. 
 
 " Basta, hasta ! It sufficeth !" cried a tall 
 man with a peculiarly constructed nose. " I 
 would find the good youth if he were in a 
 hundred Hulls. What 's Hull to me ? or I 
 to Hull ? as the poet says. I know, if I can 
 bring the girl back out of his clutches, where 
 a hundred crowns are to be got. We have 
 open hands amongst us ; but mark me, master,
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 237 
 
 if you are deceiving me, I will cut your ears 
 oflP." 
 
 The man whom he addressed was a small, 
 sharp-eyed man, reddish in the hair and pale 
 about the gills ; but he answered stoutly, 
 " That 's what you dare not. Master Barecolt." 
 
 " Dare not !" cried Barecolt, seizing a knife 
 that lay upon the table, and starting up wdtli 
 an ominous look — "Dare not! What is it 
 that I dare not ? Now, look you, repeat that 
 word again, and you shall go forth from 
 this room with no more ears than a grinder's 
 cur. Dare not ! thou small chandler, I could 
 break you across my knee like a piece of 
 rotten wood." 
 
 There was some truth in w^iat he said, and 
 the small man felt the force of that truth, so 
 that he thought it expedient to lower his tone. 
 T "I meant I would take the law of you if 
 you did," he said ; '^ so no more of cutting off 
 eai's, Master Barecolt, for we have sharp 
 justices in Nottingham. But what I said is 
 very true. I knov/ old Dry very well — have
 
 238 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 known him, indeed, these twelve years. 
 When first he used to come to Hull to buy 
 goods of the Hamburghers, I had a shop 
 there, where he used to stop and take a glass 
 of cinnamon now and then. But he has 
 grown a great man now, and would hardly 
 notice an old acquaintance, especially as he 
 was riding with men of war." 
 
 " And you are sure he had a woman with 
 him?" asked Barecolt, resuming his seat and 
 filling his glass. 
 
 " A sort of girl, mayhap some sixteen years 
 of age," answered his companion. " She 
 looked somewhat rueful too, with her eyes 
 cast down upon the ground as she rode 
 along." 
 
 " That's she," replied Barecolt ; " 'tis beyond 
 all doubt. What does the dried herring at 
 Hull, I wonder? — Let me see. It would 
 take some threescore men to capture Hull, I 
 doubt?" 
 
 *' Three score !" exclaimed the other ; " some 
 thirty thousand, you mean."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 239 
 
 Barecolt gave him a look of unutterable 
 coutempt. " Four petards," he said, continu- 
 ing his own calculations in an under tone, 
 " for the outer gate, the bridge, the inner gate, 
 and one to spare — ha — threescore men — half 
 must be musketeers — Well, there is Hughes's 
 company. I will do it." 
 
 " You had better not try," answered his 
 companion. " I could tell you a much better 
 plan, if you would strike a bargain in an 
 honest way, and give me half the reward for 
 finding this young woman, as you say there 
 are e-reat folks lookino^ after her." 
 
 " Half the reward, thou little Carthage- 
 nian!" exclaimed Barecolt. "By my faith! 
 if you have half the reward, you shall have 
 the danger too ; and a quarter of it would turn 
 your liver as white as a hen pigeon's." 
 
 " Why, I will save you all danger, if you 
 will listen to me," answered the small gentle- 
 man. " I will tell you my plan, and you shall 
 judge, and whatever risk there is, I will share 
 readily enough. I know all the houses that
 
 240 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 Dry frequents in Hull ; all his haunts, from 
 the store where he used to buy dried beef and 
 neat's tongues salted, to the shop where he 
 used to take the fourth glass of strong waters. 
 If you will put off your swagger and your 
 feathers, clothe yourself like a puritan, and 
 walk demurely, we will take two companions, 
 slip into Hull with a couple of horse-loads of 
 drapery, find out where Master Dry lodges, 
 and while I busy him with a little speculation 
 in his own way, by which I can easily make 
 him believe that he will fill his pockets, you 
 can deal with the girl, and get her out of the 
 city." 
 
 " Clothe myself like a puritan," said Bare- 
 colt, thoughtfully, "that is the only difficult 
 part of the affair ; for unless I steal old Major 
 Randall's suit of black, where I am to get 
 a pious doublet I know not. The fifty crowns 
 Lord Walton gave me have been spent on 
 this new bravery, and sundry pottle pots, to- 
 gether with things that shall be nameless, 
 friend Tibbets ; but, by my faith ! I will go
 
 i-lMES OF OLD. 241 
 
 and ask the good lord for more. He will not 
 grudge the pistoles if we can get Mistress 
 Arrah back again to him. He's as fond of 
 her as a hen of her chickens, — yet all in 
 honour, Master Tibbets — all in honour, upon 
 my life. I will go this minute, as soon as 
 I have finished this pint ;" and again he filled 
 his glass, and drained it at a draught. 
 
 He then rose from his seat, and was in the 
 act of saying, " Wait here for me, and I will be 
 back in a minute," when an officer was seen 
 dimly through the smoke, entering by the 
 door on the other side of the room. After 
 gazing round for a moment, from table to 
 table, he exclaimed aloud, " Is one Captain 
 Barecolt here ? He is wanted by the king." 
 
 " I knew it !" cried Barecolt, giving a tower- 
 ing look at Master Tibbets. " I was sure of 
 it — my great services — Sir, my name is Bare- 
 colt, and your very humble servant." 
 
 The officer gazed at him with a look of 
 some consideration and surprise, — " My good 
 friend," he said, " you seem scarcely fit to 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 obey the king's summons. You have been 
 drinking." ^^ 
 
 " So does his majesty, I wot, when he is 
 thirsty," replied Barecolt, nothing abashed ; 
 *' but if it be of proportions you speak — if it 
 be quantity which makes the difference, I will 
 soon remedy the amount of wine within, by the 
 application of water without. I am not drunk, 
 sir ; I never was drunk in my life. No, sir, 
 nor was I ever the worse for liquor, as it is 
 termed, though often much the better for it. 
 But whenever I find my eyes a little misty, 
 and see a fringe round the candles ; or feel the 
 floor move in an unusual manner, or the cups 
 dance without any one touching them, I have 
 a secret for remedying such irregularities, 
 which secret lies, like truth, in the bottom of 
 a well. Hold — Tapster. — I have drunk wine 
 enough to-night to justify me in calling for 
 water, even in a tavern. — Tapster, I say, get 
 me a bucket of cold water from the pump, and 
 put it down before the door, then bring a 
 napkin to take off the superfluous. I remem-
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 243 
 
 ber when I was in the Palatinate going to see 
 the great tun " 
 
 "Sir, we have no time for tales/' said the 
 officer drily ; " the king waits. Make your- 
 self as sober as you can, and as speedily as 
 possible." 
 
 ^' "Sir, I am with you in an instant," rejoined 
 Barecolt. " Master Tibbets, wait here till I 
 come back. You can finish the tankard for 
 me ; it is paid for." 
 
 Thus saying, he went forth, and returned in 
 a few minutes, buttoning up his collar, with 
 his scattered hair somewhat dishevelled and 
 dripping ; and, saying he was ready, he fol- 
 lowed the officer, making another sign to 
 Tibbets to wait for his return. 
 • "Who is that fellow?" 
 '""What the devil can the king want with 
 him?" 
 
 ^''^ Why, it 's Captain Barecolt, of Ran- 
 dal's." 
 
 " '^-I think the king might have chosen a 
 better man." 
 
 R 2
 
 244 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 " That 's a lie. There is not a better man in 
 the service." 
 
 " He 's a bragging fool." 
 
 " I dare say a coward too." 
 
 " No, no, no coward, for all his brags." 
 
 Such were some of the observations which 
 followed Barecolt's departure with the officer, 
 while they wended on their way through the 
 streets of Nottingham to the king's lodging, 
 whither we shall take leave to follow them. 
 The style and semblance of a court was kept 
 up long after the royal authority was gone ; 
 and in the first room which Barecolt entered 
 were a number of servants and attendants. 
 Beyond that was a vacant chamber, and then 
 a small ante-room, in which a pale boy, in 
 a page's dress, sat reading by a lamp. He 
 looked up, as the captain and his conductor 
 appeared, but did not offer to move till the 
 officer told him to go in, and say to his 
 majesty, that Captain Barecolt was in at- 
 tendance ; on which he rose, opened a door 
 opposite, and knocked at a second, which
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 245 
 
 appeared within. Voices were heard speak- 
 ing ; and, after a moment's pause, the boy 
 repeated the signal, when the door was opened, 
 and he made the announcement. 
 
 *' Let him wait," was the reply ; and for 
 about twenty minutes the worthy captain re- 
 mained, his head getting each moment cooler, 
 and freer from the fumes of the wine ; but his 
 fancy only became the more active and ram- 
 pant, and running away with him over the 
 open plain of possibility, without the slightest 
 heed of whither she was carrying her rider. 
 Having already given the reader a sample of 
 her doings with Captain Barecolt in a preced- 
 ing chapter, we will spare him on the present 
 occasion, especially as it would take much 
 more time to recount her vagaries in the good 
 gentleman's brain than it did for her to enact 
 them. 
 
 At length the door opened, and a voice pro- 
 nounced the words, " Captain Barecolt !" at 
 which sound the captain advanced, and en- 
 tered, not without some trepidation — for there
 
 246 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 is soinetliing in majesty, even when shorn of 
 its beams, that is not to be lightlied by com- 
 mon men. 
 
 The king was seated at a table in a small 
 room, with lights and papers before him, and 
 three or four gentlemen were standing round, 
 of whom Bareeolt knew but one, even by 
 sight. That one was the Earl of Beverley, 
 who, with a packet of letters in his hand, 
 stood a little behind and on the right of the 
 king. The monarch wore his hat and plume, 
 and the full light was shining on his fine 
 melancholy features, which looked more sad 
 rather than more cheerful for a faint smile 
 that was passing over his lij^. His fair right 
 hand lay upon the table, with the fingers 
 clasped round a roll of papers, upon which 
 they closed and opened more than once, 
 while Bareeolt advanced to the end of the 
 table with a low bow ; and the monarch gazdd 
 at him attentively for a few moments. '^Wo*! 
 
 " Your name is Bareeolt ?" asked the king 
 at length. - ^^^
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 247 
 
 j, " It is, may it please your majesty," replied 
 the captain. ^h ,Bmi^ 
 
 " You have been much in France, I think?'* 
 continued Charles. 
 
 " Many years, sire," answered the soldier, 
 " and speak the language as my own." 
 ;, "Good!" said the king. "With what 
 parts of the country are you most ac- 
 quainted ?" 
 
 " With all parts, your majesty," rejoined 
 the captain, who was beginning to recover his 
 loquacity, which had been somewhat checked 
 by the first effect of the king's presence. " I 
 have been in the north, sire, where I fought 
 aorainst Fuentez ; and I have travelled all 
 over the ground round Paris. I know every 
 part of Picardy and the Isle of France. Nor- 
 mandy, too, I have run through in every 
 direction, and could find my way from 
 Caudabec to Alencon with my eyes blind- 
 folded. Poitou and Main I am thoroughly 
 conversant with; and know all the towns 
 on the Loire and in the Orleanois — the
 
 248 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 passes of the Cevennes, the Forez, and the 
 Vivarais." 
 
 But Charles waved his hand, saying, 
 " Enough ! enough ! Now, tell me, if you 
 were landed on the coast of Normandy — say 
 at Pont au-de-Mer — and had to make your 
 way secretly to Paris, what course would you 
 take?" 
 
 " Please your majesty, Pont au-de-Mer is 
 not a seaport," replied Barecolt. The king 
 smiled, and Barecolt continued — " I know it 
 well, and a pretty little town it is, upon the 
 Rille." 
 
 " Well, well," said the king ; " suppose you 
 were landed at Harfleur, then, — I did but wish 
 to try fyou, sir, — how would you direct your 
 course for Paris from Harfleur ?'' 
 
 " If I were to go secretly, may it please 
 your majesty," was the reply, " I do not think 
 I should go near Pont au-de-Mer at all, for 
 then I must pass through Rouen, where they 
 are cute and cunning, ask all sorts of questions, 
 and look to passes sharply. 'No ; I would
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 249 
 
 ratlier take a little round by Lisieux, Evreux, 
 and Pacy, or, perhaps, keep still farther out 
 from the Seine, and come upon Paris by 
 Dreux, Pontchartrain, and Versailles. Then 
 they would never suspect one came from the 
 sea-side." 
 
 The king' slowly nodded his head with a 
 satisfied air, saying, " I see you know what 
 you speak of, my friend. My lord of Bever- 
 ley, this will do. If you wish to ask him any 
 more questions before you trust yourself to his 
 guidance, pray do so." 
 
 " Oh no, sire," replied the earl ; " I satisfied 
 myself by my conversation with Major Randal 
 before I spoke with your majesty upon the 
 subject. He assures me that Captain Barecolt 
 knows France well, and I have had cause to be 
 aware that he is a serviceable companion in 
 moments of danger. There is but one bad 
 habit which I trust Captain Barecolt will lay 
 aside for the time, that is, too much talking. 
 I am going, sir, to Paris, on business of im- 
 portance. The road that I know, is not now
 
 250 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 open to me, and I have need of one to accom- 
 pany me who is well acquainted with the 
 country through which I have to pass. By 
 his majesty's permission, and on Major Ran- 
 dal's recommendation, I have chosen you, sir, 
 for a service which will be rewarded according 
 as it is well performed. But you must recol- 
 lect, that the least whisper that I am not what 
 I seem, may prove my ruin, though it can 
 benefit no other party, as it is to avoid sending 
 despatches that I go myself." 
 
 *' You need not be afraid, my lord," replied 
 Barecolt ; " for though I am a soldier of 
 fortune, yet it has always been my rule to 
 stick to the cause I first espouse, till my 
 engagement be up. If I do sell myself to the 
 best bidder, as soon as I have touched a crown 
 the market is over. I am no more for sale. 
 The goods are disposed of; and if I were to 
 go over to the enemy even for an hour, I 
 should look upon it that I was stealing my- 
 self—a sort offelo de se in the code of honour, 
 which I never did and never will be guilty of.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 251 
 
 Then, as for discretion, my lord, I declare, 
 upon my word, that all the time I am with 
 you, I will not utter one syllable of truth. I 
 will be all one tall lie, saving his majesty's 
 presence. You shan't have to accuse me of 
 speaking truth indiscreetly, depend upon it." 
 
 "But speaking too much at all, Master 
 Barecolt, may do as much harm," replied Lord 
 Beverley; "a lie is a difficult thing to manage." 
 
 " For those who are not accustomed to it, 
 my lord," replied Barecolt, with a low bow ; 
 " but I am experienced, sir, and owe my life 
 some twenty times over to a well-managed 
 fiction. Oh ! a clumsy lie is a hateful thing, 
 not to be tolerated amongst gentlemen ; and a 
 timid lie is still worse, for it shows cowardice ; 
 but a good bold falsehood, well supported and 
 dexterously planted, is as good as a battery at 
 any time." 
 
 " Not a very creditable sort of weapon," said 
 the king, with a grave brow. "But enough 
 of this, sir. Where to deceive an enemy in 
 open strife, to gain a mighty object, such as
 
 252 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 security, or conceal one's needful proceedings 
 from the eyes of those who have no right to 
 pry, is the end proposed — some palliation 
 may be found, perhaps, for a deviation from 
 the strict truth. Would it were not sometimes 
 necessary," he added, looking round, as if 
 doubtful of the approval of all present ; " but, 
 at all events, to speak unnecessary untruths is 
 as dangerous as it is foolish, and as foolish as 
 it is wicked." 
 
 " May it please your majesty," answered 
 Barecolt, whose self-confidence had now fully 
 returned, " what your majesty says is quite 
 just: but some of these necessary lies I sup- 
 pose we must tell from the beginning. Neither 
 I nor my lord the earl, I take it, must pass for 
 Englishmen, or there will be no more secresy. 
 We must both say we are Frenchmen, or 
 Dutchmen, or Italians — a good big falsehood 
 to commence with." 
 
 Lord Beverley laughed. " I am afraid, sire," 
 he observed, " we must say no more upon the 
 subject, or we shall have a strange treatise
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 253 
 
 upon ethics ; but, however, as we go across 
 the country to embark, I will endeavour to 
 drill my friend here to use his tongue as little 
 as may be, so that we shall be spared more 
 fraud than needful. I will now humbly take 
 my leave of your majesty, having received my 
 instructions, and by daybreak to-morrow I 
 will be on my way. May God graciously 
 speed your majesty's cause during my absence." 
 Thus saying, he bent one knee, and kissed 
 Charles's hand, and then making a sign to 
 Barecolt to follow, he quitted the presence. 
 
 *' Now, Master Barecolt," said the earl, as 
 soon as they were in the street, " I know you 
 are a man of action. Be with me by four 
 to-morrow. There is something for your pre- 
 parations." And he j^nt a small, but heavy 
 leathern bag in his hand, adding, " That is all 
 that is needed for a soldier, I know." 
 
 " Good faith ! I must speak with Lord Wal- 
 ton before I go," answered Barecolt, " though 
 it be somewhat late." 
 
 " Well, then, come quick," replied the earl ;
 
 254 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 and he led the way to the lodging of his friend, 
 where, while Barecolt entertained the young 
 nobleman for near an hour in a room below, 
 Lord Beverley passed some sweet, though part- 
 ing moments with bright Annie Walton ; and 
 when he left her, her cheek was glowing, and 
 her eyelids moist with tears. 
 
 10 v 
 
 b'j^ I)
 
 TIMES OF OLD. ^51 
 
 ^irf'io ^ 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 In a remote part of the country— for England 
 had then remote parts and lonely, which are 
 now broad and ojjen to the busy world — rode 
 along, a little before nightfall, a small party of 
 about ten persons. The weather was clear 
 and mild ; but there was in the evening light 
 and in the autumnal hues, that touch of 
 melancholy which always accompanies the 
 passing away of anything that is bright, whe- 
 ther it be a summer's day or a fair season, 
 a joy or a hope. 
 
 The country was flat and unbroken ; but 
 nevertheless, the eye had no scope to roam, 
 for tall gloomy-looking rows of trees flanked 
 the narrow road on cither side, and many
 
 256 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 similar lines divided the plain into small fields, 
 which they shaded from the sun, except when 
 he towered at his highest noon. A river, some 
 four or five yards across, slow almost to 
 stagnation, crept along at the side of the 
 lane, with the current just perceptible in the 
 middle, where the water seemed bright and 
 limpid enough : but further towards the side, 
 the thick weeds were seen rising from the 
 bottom, and spreading over the surface, till, at 
 the very edge, they became tangled into an 
 impenetrable green mass, fringed with flags 
 and rushes. Over the clearer part of the 
 stream darted the busy water-spider, and 
 whirling in the air above were myriads of 
 gnats, rising with their irritating hum in tall 
 columns, like the sands of the desert when 
 lifted up by the whirlwind. The light was 
 gray and solemn, and one needed to look to 
 the sky to see that the sun had not actually 
 set. 
 
 After riding along this road for the distance 
 of about a mile, a large stone, somewhat like
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 257 
 
 a gravestone, appeared on the side opposite to 
 the water, and one of the horsemen having* 
 dismounted to examine what inscription it 
 bore, deciphered, amongst the moss and lichens 
 that covered it, the following agreeable intelli- 
 gence : "Here, in the year of grace 1613, and 
 on the 1 9t]i day of the month of November, 
 3Iatthew Peters was murdered by his eldest 
 son, Thomas, vrho was executed for the same 
 on the 10th of the month of December next 
 ensuing, in the tovrn of Hull, the worshipful 
 John Slackman mayor. Reader, take warn- 
 ing by his fate. Go and do not likewise." 
 
 If the party was sad before, this memento 
 of crime and suffering did not tend to make 
 it merrier : the horseman mounted his horse 
 again, and they rode on in silence for another 
 mile and a half, when, at the distance of about 
 a hundred yards from the road, which — 
 though it was still seen proceeding in a 
 straight line till it lost itself in the shadows — 
 seemed to lead nowhere, so dull and desolate 
 did it look, there a])peared a large shady 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 building', to tlie stone - paved fore - court of 
 which the river formed a sort of moat. 
 
 First came a square tower of red brick, 
 edged with stone which had once been white, 
 but now was green ; then followed a dull, low 
 wall, probably that of some long corridor, for 
 a slated roof hung over it, and two narrow 
 windows gave the interior a certain portion of 
 light. This was succeeded by a large centre, 
 or corps de logis, flat and formal, solemn and 
 unresponding, with similar small windows, 
 and a vast deep doorway. Another long low 
 line of brickwork came after, and then an- 
 other square tower, and then another mass of 
 brickwork, differing from the former in size 
 and shape, but retaining the same style, and 
 displaying the same melancholy aspect. No 
 ivy grew up around it to break the lines and 
 angles. ]>Tot a tree was before it to take off 
 its dull formality. All was heavy, and vast, 
 and grave; and to look upon it one could 
 hardly convince oneself, not that it was in- 
 habited, but that it had been cheered by the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 259 
 
 warm presence of human life for years. No 
 sound was heard, no moving thing was seen, 
 except when one raised one's eyes in search of 
 chimneys, and there one or two tall columns 
 of smoke rose slowly and seriously towards 
 the sky, as if they had made a covenant with 
 the wind not to disturb their quiet and upright 
 course. 
 
 Over the water, from the stone- court which 
 we have mentioned, swung a drawbridge, 
 which was half elevated, being hooked up by 
 one of the links of the thick chain that sus- 
 pended it to the posts on the other side, and 
 here one of the men of the party, for it con- 
 sisted both of men and women, pulled in his 
 horse, saying — 
 
 " This is Langley Hall, my lord." 
 " I know," answered Lord Walton, with a 
 sigh. " It is long since I have been here, but 
 I remember it. We see it at an unfavourable 
 hour, dear Annie. It looks more cheerful in 
 the full light." 
 
 '• Oh, that matters not, Charles," answered 
 s 2
 
 260 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 Miss Walton, in a gentle tone ; " sunshine or 
 shade are within the heart more than without ; 
 and I shall find it gay or sad as those I love 
 fare well or ill." 
 
 " How shall we 2:et in?" asked Lord "\Yal- 
 
 „ .(,f 
 
 ton, " the drawhridge is half up." 
 
 " Oh ! there is the bell behind the posts," 
 replied the man who had first spoken ; and, 
 dismounting, he pulled a rope, which produced 
 a loud but heavy sound, more like the great 
 bell of a church than that of an ordinary man- 
 sion. Some three or four minutes elapsed 
 without any one appearing to answer this 
 noisy summons ; but at length an old white- 
 headed man came out and asked cautiously 
 before he let down the bridge, who was there. 
 
 " It is Lord Walton and his sister," an- 
 swered the young nobleman ; " let down the 
 bridge, good man. Lady Margaret expects 
 us." 
 
 " Oh ! I know that, I know that," rejoined 
 the old servant ; but still, instead of obeying 
 
 the directions he had received, he retrod his 
 
 rii
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 261 
 
 Steps slowly towards tlie house. His conduct 
 was soon explained by his calling aloud — • 
 " William, William ! Come and help here ! 
 The bridge is too much for one, and here is 
 the young lord and a whole host of people, 
 men, women, and children. — Perhaps it is not 
 the young lord, after all. He was a curly- 
 pated boy when last I saw him, and this looks 
 like a colonel of horse." 
 
 " Time ! time ! Master Dixon ; time may 
 make us all colonels of horse," answered a 
 brisk-looking youth in a tight doublet, which 
 set off his sturdy limbs to good advantage, 
 as he strode forward to the old man's assist- 
 ance. 
 
 " Time is a strange changer of curly hair. 
 Doubtless, your good dame patted your head 
 some years a gone, and called you her j^retty 
 boy ; and now if she were to see you, the 
 mother would not know her son, but would 
 call you uncle or grandpapa." 
 
 '** And so I was a pretty boy — that is very 
 true," answered the old man, coming forward
 
 262 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 again towards tlie bridge, well pleased with 
 ancient memories : " and my motlier did often 
 pat my head — Lord, I remember it as if it 
 were but yesterday.*' 
 
 " All ! but you liave seen a good many yes- 
 terdays since then, Master Dixon," rejoined, 
 the young man, following to the edge of the 
 river, with the wise air of self-satisfied youth. 
 " Now, Master Dixon, you unhook while I 
 pull ;" and, as the bridge was slowly let down, 
 he added, " Give you good even, my lord. 
 You are welcome to Langley. Good even, 
 lady. You are welcome, too, and so are all 
 these pretty dames. My lady will be right 
 glad to see you all." 
 
 His words were cheerful, and there is some- 
 thing very re-assuring in the gay tones of the 
 human voice. They seem, in the hour of 
 despondency and gloom, to assure us that all 
 is not sadness in the world ; that there is truly 
 such a thing as hope ; that there are moments 
 of enjoyment, and that the heart is not alto- 
 gether forbidden to be happy — all matters of
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 263 
 
 which we entertain many doubts when the 
 cloud of sorrow first falls upon us and hides 
 the brighter things of life from our eyes. 
 
 How often is it that the reality belies the 
 outside appearance — if not always, at least 
 generally. In dealing with all things, moral 
 and physical, man deceives himself and is de- 
 ceived, and never can tell the core by the rind. 
 These are truisms, reader ; very trite, very 
 often repeated. I know it; I write them as 
 such : but do you act upon them ? or you ? or 
 you ? — Where is the man that does ? And if 
 there be a man, where is the woman ? The 
 demagogue is judged by his words, the 
 preacher by his sermon, the statesman by his 
 eloquence, the lover by his looks. All seem- 
 ing — nothing but seeming ; and it is not till 
 we come to taste the fruit that we learn the 
 real flavour. 
 
 All had seemed dark and gloomy in Lang- 
 ley Hall ; and the sadness which Annie Wal- 
 ton had felt in 2:)arting with her brother, when 
 strife and danger were before him, had, it is
 
 264 ARRAII NEIL; OR, 
 
 true, tlioiigli she would not own it, been deep- 
 ened by the cold aspect of her future habita- 
 tion. But the man's cheerful tone first raised 
 the corner of the curtain ; and when on enter- 
 ing the wide old hall, she saw the mellow light 
 of the setting sun pouring over a wide cham- 
 paign country, through a tall window on the 
 other side, and covering the marble floor as if 
 with a network of light and shade, while here 
 n bright suit of armour, and there a cluster of 
 well-arranged arms, and there a large picture 
 of some ancient lord of the place, caught the 
 rays and glowed with a look of peaceful com- 
 fort, she felt revived and relieved. 
 
 The next moment, from a door at the far 
 end on the right, came forth an old lady, 
 somewhat tall and upright, in her long stays, 
 with a coif upon her head, in token of widow- 
 hood, and her silver- white hair glistening be- 
 neath it, but withal a bland and pleasant smile 
 upon her wrinkled face, and fire, almost as 
 bright as that of youth, in her undimmed eye;' 
 She embraced her nephew and niece with all
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 265 
 
 the affection and tenderness of a parent, and 
 taking Annie by the hand, gazed on and kissed 
 her again, saying — 
 
 " Not Hke thy mother, Annie ; not like thy 
 mother : and yet the eyes — ay, too, and the 
 lips, now you look grave. But come ; Charles, 
 come. See where I sit, with my sole compa- 
 nion for the last five years, except when good 
 Dr. Blunt comes over from Hull to tell me 
 news, or the vicar sits with me for an hour on 
 Friday." 
 
 As she spoke she led them into a large 
 room, wainscotted with dark chestnut-wood ; 
 and from out of the recess of the window, 
 where the sunshine fell, rose a tall shaggy 
 deer hound, and, with steps majestical and slow, 
 walked up to the young lord and lady, ex- 
 amined first the one and then the other with 
 close attention, stretched himself out with a 
 weary yawn, and taking it for granted all was 
 right, laid himself down again to doze, where 
 he had been before. 
 
 *' See, Charles, see what a shrewd dog he is," '^
 
 266 ARBAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 cried the old lady : " he knows whom he may 
 trust and%hom he may not, in a moment. I 
 had old Colonel ISTorthcote here the other day. 
 What" he came for I know not, though I do 
 know him to he a rogue ; for Basto there did 
 nought but growl and show his white teeth 
 close to the good man's legs, till he was glad 
 to get away unhitten." 
 
 " I sometimes wish we had their instinct, 
 dear aunt Margaret, rather than our sense," 
 replied her nephew ; " for one is often much 
 more serviceable than the other." 
 
 " Much keener, Charles, at all events," an- 
 swered the old lady ; " and so you are here at 
 length. Well, I got all the letters, and Annie 
 shall be another in the hall when you are 
 gone ; and, when she is tired of the old 
 woman, she has a sunny chamber where the 
 robins sing, for her own thoughts ; and she 
 shall be free to come and go according to all 
 stipulations, and no question asked, were it to 
 meet a gallant in the wood." 
 
 " Nay, Charles, nay," cried Miss Walton,
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 267 
 
 " why did you write ray aunt such tales of 
 rae? My only stipulation was, indeed, that I 
 might join him whenever a pause came in 
 these sad doings, my dear aunt." 
 
 "Oh, you shall be as free as air, sweet 
 nun," replied Lady Margaret. " I never 
 could abide to see a poor bird in a cage, or a 
 dog tied by a chain : and when I was young, 
 I was as wild and wilful as my poor sister 
 Ann was staid and good. I have now lived 
 to well nigh seventy years, still loving all 
 freedom but that which God forbids ; still 
 hating all thraldom but that which love im- 
 poses. I was long happ3^, too, in shaping my 
 own course, and I would see others happy in 
 the self- same way. Come, dear child, while 
 Charles disposes of his men, I will show you 
 your bower, where you may reign, queen of 
 yourself, and all within it." 
 
 Annie followed her aunt from the room, 
 passed through another behind it, and entered 
 a little sort of stone hall or vestibule, lighted 
 from the top. Four doors were in the walls.
 
 268 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 and a small staircase at the furtlier end, up 
 which Lady Margaret led the way to the first 
 floor above, where two doors appeared on 
 either hand, with a gallery, fenced with an 
 oaken balustrade, running round the hall, at 
 about twelve feet from the ground. Along 
 this gallery the old lady led her young niece, 
 and then through a long and somewhat tor- 
 tuous passage, which was crossed by another, 
 some twenty yards down, that branched off 
 to more rooms and corridors beyond. Then 
 came a turn, and then another passage, and at 
 the end three broad low steps led up to a large 
 door. 
 
 " Dear aunt," said Miss Walton, who had 
 thought their journey would never end, "your 
 house is a -perfect labyrinth. I shall never 
 find my way back." 
 
 *' It is somewhat crooked in its ways, child," 
 answered Lady Margaret ; " but you will make 
 it out in time, never fear ; that is to say, as 
 far as you need to know it. Now, here is 
 your bower;" and oj^ening the door she led
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 269 
 
 Miss Walton into a large room looking to the 
 soiitli-west. The sun had just gone down, and 
 the whole western sky was on fire with his 
 parting look, so that a rosy light filled the wide 
 chamber, from a large bay window, where, 
 raised a step above the rest of the room, was 
 a little platform with two seats, and a small 
 table of inlaid wood. 
 
 " There I have sat and worked many a day," 
 said the old lady, pointing to the window, 
 " when my poor knight was at the siege of 
 Ostend. We lived together happily for many 
 years, Annie, and it was very wrong of him to 
 go away at last without taking me with him. 
 However, we shall soon meet again, that is 
 some comfort ; but I have never dwelt in this 
 room since." 
 
 As she spoke, a slow pattering sound was 
 heard along the i3assage, and then a scratch 
 at the door. " It is Basto," said Lady Mar- 
 garet ; " he has come to see that I am not 
 moping myself in my old rooms. Come in, 
 Basto ;" and o^^ening the door the dog stalked
 
 270 
 
 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 in, first looking up in liis mistress's face and 
 wagging his tail deliberately, and then in that 
 of her fair niece with a similar gratulation. 
 
 " Ah, thou art a wise man," said Lady Mar- 
 garet, patting him on the head. " We are 
 growing old, Basto, we are growing old. My 
 husband brought him from Ireland ten years 
 ago, Annie, and he was then some two years 
 old, so according to dog's lives he is about 
 fifty, and yet see what teeth he has," and she 
 opened with her thin, fair, shrivelled hands, 
 the beast's powerful jaws. 
 
 Miss Walton had, in the mean time, been 
 taking a review^ of her chamber, which her 
 kind aunt had certainly made as comfortable 
 and gay as might be. The colours of all that 
 it contained were light and sparkling, con- 
 trasting pleasantly with the dark panelling 
 which lined the whole house. — There were 
 chairs and low seats covered with yellow silk, 
 and curtains of the same stuff to draw across 
 the bay window. There were sundry pieces 
 of tapestry for the feet, covered with roses and
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 271 
 
 lilies, and on either side of the vast oaken 
 mantel-piece, hung brushes of many-coloured 
 feathers. But there was no bed; and the 
 next minute, after some further admiration of 
 the dog's teeth, Lady Margaret opened a door 
 on the right of the fire-place, which led into 
 another room beyond, fitted up as a sleeping 
 chamber, with the same air of comfort as the 
 other. Everything was pointed out to Annie 
 as long as any light lasted, and then the old 
 lady, showing her a third door, observed, 
 " there is a closet for your maids to sleep in ; 
 but we must get back, sweet niece, for it is 
 groAving dark, and you will fancy goblins in 
 the passage." 
 
 Miss Walton laughed, assuring her that she 
 feared nothing but losing her way, and the old 
 lady answered, " Oh ! you must learn, you must 
 learn, Annie. 'T is often good to have a place 
 like this, where one may set search at defiance. 
 In the last reign we had conspiracies enow, 
 God wot ! and one poor man, whose head they 
 wanted, was here three days while liis enemies
 
 272 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 were in tlie house ; but they never found him, 
 and yet he walked about at ease." 
 
 " Indeed," said Miss Walton, as they made 
 their way back ; " how might that be, my dear 
 aunt. If they searched well in the daylight, 
 I should think there would be little chance of 
 escape." 
 
 " More than yoa know, Annie," answered 
 her aunt, drily ; " but I will tell you all about 
 it some day ; and now I will send up William, 
 who is a clever lad, with your maids to show 
 them the way, and bring your goods and 
 chattels up. But what is all this loud speak- 
 ing, I wonder?" 
 
 " I know the voice, I think," answered Miss 
 Walton ; " but if I am right as to the person, 
 he should have been over the seas long ago."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 273 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 For England's war revered the claim 
 Of ever}'- unprotected name ; 
 And spared amidst its fiercest rage, 
 Childhood, and womanhood, and age.' 
 
 So sang a great poet and excellent man, but 
 begging the master's pardon, if war herself 
 spared them, the consequences of war reached 
 them sadly. It never has been, and never 
 will be, that in times of civil contention, when 
 anarchy has dissolved the bonds of law, the 
 fierce passions, which in the breasts of too 
 many are only fettered by fear, will not break 
 forth to ravage and destroy. There never was 
 yet strife without crime, and never will be. 
 Certainly, such was not the case in the civil 
 wars of the great rebellion, and many an act 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 was committed with impunity under cover of 
 the disorders of the time, of the most black and 
 horrible character. True, the justice still held 
 his seat upon the bench, to take cognizance of 
 all crimes but rebellion ; true, mayors and cor- 
 porations existed in cities, and exercised muni- 
 cipal authority ; but the power thus possessed 
 was not unfrequently used for the gratification 
 of the person who held it on the side of the 
 parliament, and if not held by one of that party, 
 was utterly disregarded by those who were. 
 
 Of this fact, Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, was 
 very well aware ; and after making his escape 
 from the carriages during the skirmish at the 
 bridge, he had, with the assistance of his com- 
 panion, dragged poor Arrah Neil along with 
 him, assuring the parliamentary committee- 
 man who accompanied him, that he did it 
 solely to deliver the poor girl from the men of 
 Belial, with whom she was consorting, and to 
 place her in the hands of a chosen vessel, a 
 devout woman of his neighbourhood, whom 
 he likened, in an irreverent strain, to Anna 
 the prophetess.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 275 
 
 Whether his companion put full faith in 
 his sincerity and singleness of purjiose or not, 
 does not much matter : Captain Batten was 
 not one to quarrel with any one's hypocrisy ; 
 and indeed it seemed that a sort of ao-reement 
 had been made amono;st the roundheads — like 
 that by which men take paper money instead 
 of gold and silver — to let each man's religious 
 pretences pass current as genuine coin, how- 
 ever flimsy might be the materials of which 
 they were made. The real purpose of Mr. 
 Dry was, to take poor Ari-ah Neil back to 
 Bishop's Merton, for his own views ; and his 
 motives were, as tlie reader will learn here- 
 after, of a very mixed character. But after 
 having wandered about with Batten and Dr. 
 Bastwick for two days, during the course of 
 which he was more than once seen studying 
 a packet of old letters, he expressed a strong- 
 desire to go under the escort of some body of 
 parliamentary troops into Yorkshire, where he 
 declared he had just recollected having some 
 business of importance to transact. 
 
 No opportunity occurred for several days, 
 T 2
 
 276 ARRAH ^^EIL ; OR, 
 
 during -whicli time the whole party who had 
 escaped from the cavaliers, at the invitation of 
 the worthy common councilmen of Coventry, 
 took up their abode for a time in that ancient 
 city, Mr. Dry watching poor Arrah Neil with 
 the closest care, and giving out to the land- 
 lady of the inn at which he lodged that she 
 was a poor ward of his, of weak understanding, 
 over whom it was necessary to keep a strict 
 guard. 
 
 The pious landlady of Coventry believed 
 every word that Mr. Dry thought fit to tell 
 her. How could she do otherwise, indeed, 
 with so very devout a person ? and to say the 
 truth, the demeanour and appearance of Arrah 
 Neil, did not serve to belie the assertions of 
 the old hypocrite who had her in his power. 
 She remained the greater part of each day 
 plunged in deep and melancholy musings ; 
 and though she more than once attempted to 
 escape, and said she was wrongfully detained, 
 yet she entered into no long explanations, 
 notwithstanding sundry opportunities afforded 
 her by the hostess, who was not without her
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 277 
 
 share of curiosity. The fit, or as she called it, 
 the cloud of gloom had come upon her again. 
 It had passed away, indeed, during the active 
 and bustling time of the march from Bishop's 
 Merton, and so indeed it always did, either in 
 moments when all went clear and smoothly, 
 or in times of great difficulty and danger ; but 
 still it returned when any of the bitter sorrows 
 and pangs of which every life has some, and 
 hers had too many, crossed her way, and 
 darkened the prospect of the future. 
 
 It was not suUenness, reader ; it was no 
 gloomy bitterness of sjDirit; it was no impa- 
 tience of the ills that are the lot of all ; it was 
 no rebellious murmurino; against the will of 
 God : neither was it madness, nor anything 
 like it, though she acted sometimes strangely, 
 and sometimes wildly, as it seemed to the 
 common eyes of the world, from a strong and 
 energetic determination of accomplishing her 
 object at the time, joined with the utter want 
 of that experience of the world which w^ould 
 have taught her how to accomplish it by ordi- 
 nary means. What was it then? you will
 
 278 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 ask, and may think it strange when I say — 
 memory. But so it was ; memory, confused 
 and vague, of things long gone before, which 
 formed so strong a contrast with the present, 
 that whenever sorrow or disappointment fell 
 upon her, some former time, some distant 
 scenes of which she knew not the when or the 
 where, rose up before her eyes, and made her, 
 lierself, believe that she was mad. She recol- 
 lected bright looks and kind words, and days 
 of happiness and nights of peace and repose, 
 to which she could not give " a local habitation 
 and a name." Were they visions ? she asked 
 lierself ; were they dreams ? where could they 
 have occurred '{ what could they have been ? 
 Was it from some book which she had read, 
 she often inquired, that such fanciful pictures 
 had been gleaned, and had then fi^^^d thjepir 
 selves as realities in her mind? --^ f r-fffr i^rf 
 She could not tell ; but when such memories 
 rose up, they took possession of her wholly, 
 — bewildered, confused, overpowered her. For 
 a time she was a creature of the past ; she 
 scarcely believed in the present ; she knew
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 279 
 
 not Avliicli was the reality, — the things gone 
 by, or the things that surrounded her. 
 
 During the whole time that she remained 
 at Coventry, this cloud was upon her, and she 
 paid little attention to anything but the con- 
 tinual questioning of her own heart and mind. 
 She attempted, as we have said, to escape, — 
 indeed, more thau once ; but it was by impulse 
 rather than by thought ; and when frustrated, 
 she fell at once back again into meditation. 
 She did not remark that Dry treated her in a 
 very different manner from that which he had 
 ever displayed towards her before ; that he 
 called her " Mistress Arrah ;" that he tried to 
 soothe and to amuse her. She noticed, but 
 without much attention, that different clothing- 
 had been provided for her from that which she 
 had been accustomed to wear ; but whenever 
 her mind turned from the past towards the 
 present again, her thoughts busied themselves 
 with Charles Walton and his sister, and she 
 would have given worlds to know how it fared 
 with those she loved. 
 ^' That the victory had been won by the cava-
 
 280 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 liers she was aware, but at what price it had 
 been bought she could not tell, and she 
 trembled to think of it. IN'o one, indeed, 
 spoke to her upon the subject ; for Dry was 
 silent, and, for reasons of his own, he took 
 care that she should be visited by none but the 
 landlady of the inn. 
 
 At length two pieces of intelligence reached 
 him, on the third day after their arrival in 
 Coventry, which made him resolute to pursue 
 his journey into Yorkshire immediately. The 
 first of these was communicated to him by one 
 of his own servants, to whom he had sent 
 shortly after the skirmish, and was to the 
 effect that the great majority of the people of 
 Bishop's Merton had espoused the royalist 
 cause, and that messengers had arrived from 
 Lord Walton, ordering him to be apprehended 
 immediately, if he made his appearance in the 
 place. With this news, however, came the 
 money he had sent for ; and on the evening of 
 the same day, Dr. Bastwick brought him the 
 second piece of information, which was merely 
 that a troop of the parliamentary horse would
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 281 
 
 pass through Coventry the following day, on 
 their road to Hull, where Sir John Hotham 
 was in command for the parliament. It was 
 added that Master Dry might march safely 
 under their escort, and he accordingly spent 
 the rest of the evening in buying horses and 
 equipage for himself and Arrah Neil, and set 
 out the following day on his journey. 
 
 The tedious march towards Hull need not 
 be related ; during the whole of the way the 
 old man rode beside his charge, plying her 
 with soft and somewhat amorous words, min- 
 gled strangely and horribly with texts from 
 Scripture, perverted and misapplied, and 
 graced with airs of piety and devotion, which 
 those who knew him well were quite aware 
 had no share in his dealings or his heart. 
 
 Arrah Neil paid little attention to him — 
 answered seldom, and then but by a mono- 
 syllable. To escape was impossible, for he 
 had now too many abettors with him, and she 
 was never left alone for a moment, except 
 when locked into a room during a halt. Yet 
 she looked anxiously for the opportunity ; and
 
 282 ARRAII NEIL; OR, 
 
 wlienever any objects were seen moving 
 through the country as they joassed, her heart 
 heat with the hope of some party of cavahers 
 heing nigh, and giving her rehef. Such, 
 however, did not prove the case, and about 
 noon of an autumnal day, they entered the 
 town of Hull. 
 
 Here Mr. Ezekiel Dry separated himself 
 from the troop, with thanks for their escort, 
 and made his way towards the centre of the 
 town, where stood the house of a friend with 
 whom he had often transacted business of 
 different kinds. The friend, however, had, 
 since he saw him, married a wife, and was 
 absent from the town ; and though Mr. Dry 
 assured a demure-looking maid-servant, who 
 opened the door, that his friend Jeremiah had 
 always told him he might use his house as his 
 own, the maid knew Jeremiah better than 
 Mr. Dry, and demurred to receiving any guest 
 during her master's absence. • 
 
 When the worthy gentleman had finished 
 his conversation, and made up his mind that 
 he must seek an inn, he turned round to
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 283 
 
 remount liis horse, and was somewhat sur- 
 prised to see Arrah Neil gazing round her 
 with a deo:ree of lio:ht and even wonder in her 
 look, for which he perceived no apparent 
 cause. The street was a dull and dingy one ; 
 most of the houses were of wood, with the 
 gables turned towards the road ; and from the 
 opposite side projected a long pole, from which 
 swung a square piece of wood representing, in 
 very rough and rude style, the figure of a 
 swan the size of life. Yet over the dark and 
 time-stained face of the buildings, up the line 
 of narrow street, round the windows and doors 
 carved with quaint figures, ran the beautiful 
 eyes of Arrah Neil, with a look of eager satis- 
 faction which Ezekiel Dry could in no degree 
 account for. They rested principally upon 
 the figure of the swan, however, and as that 
 emblem showed that it was a house of public 
 entertainment, thither Mr. Dry turned the 
 horses' heads, andlbade her alight at the door. 
 Arrah sprang to the ground in a moment, 
 and entered the house with an alacrity which 
 Mr. Dry had never seen her before display.
 
 284 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 Something appeared to have enchanted her, 
 for she almost outran the hostess, who led the 
 way, saying, " This way, pretty lady — this way, 
 sir." But when she stopped at a door in a 
 long open corridor, Arrah jNTeil actually passed 
 her, exclaiming — 
 
 " 'No, not that room ; I should prefer this," 
 and without waiting for an answer, she opened 
 the door and went in. 
 
 " Dear lady, you seem to know the house 
 quite well," said the hostess ; " but yet I do 
 not recollect having seen your pretty face 
 before." 
 
 " Talk not of such vanities," said Mr. Dry, 
 with a solemn tone ; " what is beauty but 
 the dust, and fair flesh but as a clod of 
 clay ?" 
 
 " Well, I am sure !" said the landlady, who 
 was what Mr. Dry would have called a carnal 
 and self-seeking person, but a very good wo- 
 man notwithstanding. " Ah ! sir, what you 
 say is very true ; we are all nothing but clods 
 of earth ; there can be no doubt of it : it's 
 very true, indeed."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 285 
 
 Finding- her so far docile, Mr. Dry deter- 
 mined to make a still greater impression, in 
 order to insure that his object of keeping 
 Arrah Neil within his grasp, should not be 
 frustrated by the collusion of the landlady. 
 He therefore set to work, and held forth to 
 her upon godliness, and grace, and self-deny- 
 ingness, and other Christian virtues ; touching 
 a little upon original sin, predestination, elec- 
 tion, and other simple and easy subjects, with 
 a degree of clearness and perspicuity, such as 
 might be expected from his original station 
 and means of information. The landlady was 
 confounded and puzzled ; but it was utterly 
 impossible to tell what he really meant, by 
 the unconnected images, quotations, and dog- 
 mas which he pronounced ; she was uncon- 
 vinced of any thing but of his being a 
 vehement puritan, which she herself was not. 
 However, as it did not do to offend a 
 customer, she shook her head and looked sad, 
 and cried from time to time, " Ah, very true ! 
 God help us! jDoor sinners that we are;" with 
 s undry other exclamations, which, though they
 
 286 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 did not convince Mr. Dry that she had not a 
 strong hankering- for the fleshpots of Egypt, 
 and the abominations of the Amorites, yet 
 showed him that she was very well inclined to 
 please him, and made him believe that she 
 would fulfil his bidding to the letter. 
 
 He accordingly called her out of the room 
 as soon as he thought he had produced his 
 effect, and explaining to her what he pleased 
 to call the situation of his poor ward, he 
 warned her particularly to keep the door 
 locked upon her, to suffer no one to hold 
 communication with her, and especially to 
 prevent her from getting out, for fear she 
 should throw herself into the water or make 
 away with herself, which he represented to be 
 not at all unlikely. 
 
 The hostess assured him that she was deeply 
 grieved to hear the young lady's case. She 
 could not have believed it, she said, she looked 
 so sensible and cheerful. 
 
 " Ah !" replied Mr. Dry, " you will see her 
 dull enough soon. It comes upon her by fits; 
 but you must attend very punctually to my
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 287 
 
 orders, or something- may take place for wliicli 
 you will weep in sackcloth and ashes." 
 
 " Oh, sir, I will attend to them most par- 
 ticularly," said the landlady. " What will you 
 please to order for dinner, sir? Had not I 
 better put the lady down a round-pointed 
 knife ? Is she dangerous with her hands ?" 
 
 " Oh, no," answered Mr. Dry. " It is to 
 herself, not to others, she is dangerous. And 
 as for dinner, send up anything you have got, 
 especially if it be high flavoured and relishing, 
 for I have but a poor appetite. I will be back 
 in about an hour ; and, in the mean time, can 
 YOU tell me where in this town lives one HuQ-h 
 O'Donnell, an Irishman, I believe?" 
 
 The landlady paused and considered, and 
 then replied, that she really could not tell ; 
 she knew of such a person being in the place, 
 and believed he lived somewhere at the west 
 of the town, but she was not by any means sure. 
 
 The moment Mr. Dry was gone, the good 
 woman called to the cook, and ordered a very 
 substantial dinner for the party which had just 
 arrived ; but then putting her hand before her
 
 288 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 eyes, she stood for the space of a minute and 
 a half in the centre of the tap-room, as if in 
 consideration, then saying, " I won't tell him 
 anything- about it — There is something strange 
 in this aifair ; I am not a woman if I don't 
 find it out." She then hurried up to the room 
 where she had left Arrah Neil, unlocked the 
 door and went in. 
 
 The poor girl was leaning on the sill of the 
 open window, gazing up and down the street. 
 Her face was clear and bright ; her beautiful 
 blue eyes were full of intellect and fire ; the 
 look of doubt and inward thought was gone ; 
 a change had come over her, complete and 
 extraordinary. It seemed as if she had awak- 
 ened from a dream. 
 
 When the landlady entered, Arrah imme- 
 diately turned from the window, and advanced 
 towards her. Then laying her hand upon her 
 arm, she a:azed in her face for a moment so 
 intently that the poor woman began to be 
 alarmed. 
 
 " I am sure I recollect you," said Arrah 
 Neil. " Have you not been here long ?"
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 289 
 
 " For twenty years," replied the hostess ; 
 " and for five and twenty before that in the 
 house next door, from which I married into 
 this." 
 
 "And don't you recollect me?" asked Arrah 
 Neil. 
 
 "No," replied the landlady, "I do not; 
 though I think I have seen some one very like 
 you before — but then it was a taller lady — 
 much taller." 
 
 " So she was," cried Arrah Neil. " What 
 was her name ?" 
 
 " Nay, I can't tell, if you can't," replied the 
 landlady. 
 
 " I know what I called her, but I know 
 nothing more," answered Arrah Neil. " I 
 called her mother — and perhaps she was my 
 mother. I called her mother as I lay in that 
 bed, with my head aching, my eyes burning, 
 and my lips parched ; and then I fell into a 
 long deep sleep, from which I woke, forgetting 
 all that went before ; and she was gone !" 
 
 " Ay !" cried the landlady ; " and are you 
 that poor little thing if" and she gazed upon 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 lier for a moment with a look of sad, deep 
 interest. The next mstant she cast her arms 
 round her, and kissed her tenderly. " Ah, 
 poor child !" she said at length, with tears in 
 her eyes, " those were sad times — sad times 
 indeed ! 'T was when the fever was raging in 
 the country. Sad work in such days for those 
 who lodge strangers ! It cost me my only one. 
 A man came and slept in that hed, he looked 
 ill when he came, and worse when he went. 
 Then came a lady and a child, and an old 
 man, their servant, and the house was full, all 
 hut this room and another ; and ere they had 
 heen here long, my own dear child was taken 
 with the fever. She was near your own age, 
 perhaps a year older; and I told the lady 
 over night, so she said she would go on the 
 morrow, for she was afraid for her darling. 
 But before the morning came, you too were 
 shaking like a willow in the wind, and then 
 came on the burning fit, and the third day 
 you began to rave, and knew no one. The 
 fifth day my poor girl died, and for a whole 
 day I did not see you — I saw nothing but my
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 291 
 
 dead child. On the next, however, they came 
 to tell me the lady had fallen ill, and I came 
 to watch you, for it seemed to me as if there 
 was something- between you and my poor 
 Lucy — I knew not what — you had been sisters 
 in sickness, and I thought you might be sisters 
 in the grave. I cannot help crying when I 
 think of it. — Oh, those were terrible days !" 
 And the poor woman wiped her eyes. 
 
 "But my mother," cried Arrah Neil — " my 
 mother V 
 
 " Some day I will show you where she lies," 
 answered the hostess ; and Arrah wept bitterly, 
 for a hope was crushed out to its last spark. 
 
 " She got worse and worse," continued the 
 landlady ; " and she too lost her senses, but 
 just as you were slowly getting a little better, 
 she suddenly regained her mind ; and I was 
 so glad, for I thought she would recover too ; 
 but the first words she spoke were to ask after 
 you. So I told her you were much better ; 
 and all she said was, * I should wish to see her 
 once more before I die, if it may be done 
 without harming her;' and then I knew that 
 u 2
 
 292 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 she was going. I and the old servant carried 
 you, just as you were, and laid you on her 
 bed, and she kissed you, and prayed God to 
 bless and keep you ; but you were weak and 
 dozy, and she would not have you wakened, 
 but made us take you back ; and then she 
 spoke long with the old man in a whisper ; 
 but all I heard was, ' You promise, Neil — you 
 promise on your salvation.' He did promise 
 — though I did not know what it was. Then 
 she said, * Recollect, you must never tell her, 
 unless it be recovered.' Recovered or reversed, 
 she said, I remember not well which, but from 
 that moment she said nothing more, but to 
 ask for some water, and so she went on till the 
 next morning, just as day w^as dawning, and 
 then she departed." 
 
 A short space passed in silent tears on the 
 part of Arrah Neil, while the good woman 
 who told the tale remained gazing forth from 
 the window ; but at length she continued, 
 " Before you could run across the floor again, 
 my husband died ; but with him it was very 
 quick. He was but three days between health
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 293 
 
 and death ; and when I had a little recovered, 
 I used foolishly to wish that yoii could stay 
 with me, and be like my poor Lucy ; but you 
 were a lady, and I was a poor woman, so that 
 could not be ; and in about six weeks the old 
 man paid all that was owing, and took you 
 away. It is strange to think that you should 
 be the same pretty child that lay there sick 
 near ten years ago." 
 
 " It is as strange to me as to you," said 
 Arrah Neil ; " for, as I tell you, I seemed to fall 
 into a deep sleej), and for a time I forgot all ; but 
 since then all the things which occurred before 
 that time have troubled me sadly. It seemed 
 as if I had had a dream, and I recollect a 
 castle on a hill, and riding with a tall gentle- 
 man, who was on a great black horse, while I 
 had a tiny thing, milk white ; and I remem- 
 ber many servants and maids — oh ! and many 
 things I have never seen since ; but I could 
 not tell whether it was real or a mere fancy, 
 till I came into this town, and I saw the street 
 which I used to look at from the window, and 
 the sign of the house that I used to watch as
 
 294 ARPtAH I\'EIL ; OR, 
 
 it swung* to and fro in the wind. Then I was 
 sure it was real ; and your face, too, brought a 
 thousand things back to me ; and when I saw 
 the room where I had been, I felt inclined to 
 weep, I knew not w^hy. — Well, well may I 
 weep !" 
 
 " But who is this old man who is with you?" 
 asked the landlady, suddenly. " He is not 
 the old servant, who was as aged then as he is 
 now ; and what is this tale he tells of your 
 being his ward, and mad ?" 
 
 "Mad!" cried Arrah Neil— "mad! Oh, 
 no ! 'T is he that is wdcked, not I that am 
 mad. He and another dragged me away 
 from those W'ho protected me, and w^ere good 
 to me — kind Annie Walton, and that noble 
 lord her brother, while they were fighting on 
 the moors beyond Coventry. I, his ward ! 
 He has no more right to keep me from my 
 friends than the merest stranger. He is a 
 base, bad man — a hypocrite — a cheat. What 
 he wants, what he w^ishes, I know not. But 
 he had my poor old grandfather dragged 
 away to prison, and he died by the road."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 295 
 
 "Your grandfather!" said the widow — 
 " what was his name ?" 
 
 " Neil," answered the poor girl ; " that was 
 the name he always went by." 
 
 " Why, that was the old servant," said the 
 hostess. " He had been a soldier, and fought 
 in many battles. I have heard him tell it 
 often. But this man — this man has some 
 object, young lady. He knows more of you 
 than perhaps you think. He told me that 
 you were mad, and his ward ; but he knew 
 not that you had a friend so near at hand, 
 who, though she be a poor, humble wo- 
 man Hark ! there are people speaking at 
 
 the door. 'Tis he, I dare say. Say not a 
 word to him, and we will talk more by-and-by. 
 Do not be afraid — he shall not take you away 
 again so easily, if there be yet law in the land. 
 But he must not find me with you;" and, 
 thus saying, she opened the door, and left the 
 room.
 
 296 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The landlady paused for a moment at the 
 door, laid her finger upon her brow, thought 
 for a minute or two, and then, having settled 
 her Avhole plan to her own satisfaction, de- 
 scended to the door, at which Mr. Dry, of 
 Longsoaken, was making sundry inquiries 
 regarding the personage for whose address 
 he had, in the first place, applied to herself, 
 and whom he evidently had not found out in 
 his perambulations through the town. A part 
 of what he said was heard by the hostess as she 
 descended, so that she had a clue to what was 
 going on, and, advancing towards him with a 
 low, smart courtesy, she said — 
 
 " The dinner 's quite ready, sir ; and I have
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 297 
 
 been tliinking since you were gone, that I 
 shall be able to-morrow morning to get you 
 the address of the gentleman you wanted, for 
 a man will be here with eggs who used to 
 supply him, I know." 
 
 Mr. Dry looked up with a well-satisfied 
 air, saying, " That is providential. Mistress 
 Green." 
 
 " White, sir. White," said the landlady, 
 dropping another courtesy ; " my name is 
 White, not Green — a different colour, sir ; but 
 it all comes to the same thing. Shall I call 
 the young lady to dinner ? It is in this room, 
 sir." 
 
 " I will go myself. Mistress White," said 
 Dry ; and he was advancing towards the 
 stairs, when the landlady, in a low and con- 
 fidential whisper, added — 
 
 " Poor thing ! she is very wild indeed. I 
 went up just now to see if she wanted any- 
 thing ; and she is quite astray, thinking that 
 she was here not long ago, and fancying that 
 she knows all about the place. It 's a sad 
 thing to see a poor creature in such a state."
 
 298 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 " Alack ! alack! and so it is," rejoined Mr. 
 Dry; "but it's God's will, Mrs. White, and 
 so we must submit." 
 
 " Ab, sir ! tbat 's very true," answered the 
 good hostess ; " but yet one can't help pitying 
 the poor girl. You are sure she is not dan- 
 gerous, sir ? " 
 
 " Quite sure," answered Mr. Dry : " it is 
 only to herself. But if she were left alone to 
 do what she will, I would not answer for it, 
 that you would not very soon find her in the 
 Humber." 
 
 " Oh ! she must be looked to, sir — she 
 must be looked to," replied the landlady. 
 " Those are sad, dangerous cases. I remem- 
 ber right well when Jonathan Birkett, at 
 Burton — he was my husband's second cousin, 
 poor, dear man — went mad, and hanged him- 
 self " 
 
 " I will hear that story after dinner," said 
 Dry in return, pushing past her, and 023ening 
 the door of the room in which Arrah Neil was 
 seated. But the good landlady had gained 
 her point, having fully convinced Mr. Dry
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 299 
 
 that she believed the ^^oor girl whom he had 
 brought thither to be perfectly insane ; and 
 her manner during the meal, which followed 
 immediately after, served to confirm the 
 worthy gentleman in that supposition, with- 
 out at all inducing Arrah herself to imagine 
 that her new friend had any doubt of her 
 sanity. 
 
 Though the days had gone by when, as an 
 universal custom, the landlord and his guest 
 sat down together at the same table, and if the 
 traveller presented himself at any other hours 
 than those of the host's own meals, he was 
 likely to remain hungry till the master of the 
 house chose to eat, yet in all cases he who 
 supplied the fare and he who received it were 
 still much more intimately mixed up at meal 
 times than in the present day, when the duties 
 of the hostly office are done by deputy ; anc 
 the landlord is intent upon any other cares 
 than hospitable ones. 
 
 In the present instance, good Mrs. White 
 remained in the room with her maid, who 
 acted the important part of waiter, and ever
 
 300 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 and anon she meddled "busily with the 
 dishes, commended the viands to her guests, 
 vaunted the excellence of the ale, strong 
 waters, and wine, which her house afforded, 
 and when not thus employed upon matters 
 connected with her own immediate vocation, 
 took part in the conversation of those who 
 sat at table, with great freedom and satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 Towards Arrah Neil her tone was of that 
 tender and kindly character, which might well 
 be attributed by Mr. Dry to compassion for 
 the mental affliction under which he had de- 
 clared her to be suffering, and by the poor 
 girl herself to interest in her fate and situa- 
 tion. But the good landlady was all the time 
 busily engaged in watching eagerly the whole 
 conduct of her male guest, and endeavouring, 
 with all the skill which is afforded by long 
 dealings with many of our fellow-creatures, to 
 extract some information from all she saw re- 
 garding his intentions and objects. She per- 
 ceived that the worthy man of Longsoaken 
 was as tender upon her w^hom he called his
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 301 
 
 ward as Avas consistent with his sanctified exte- 
 rior, that he often whispered a word to her 
 with a smile which contorted his harsh and 
 wizzened features into anything but a pleasant 
 expression, and that he made a point of 
 helping her himself to everything which he 
 thought dainty ; and, from these and various 
 other signs and indications, Mrs. White was 
 led to ask herself, " Does the old hypocrite 
 seek her for a wife or a paramour ?" and she 
 internally added, " I '11 spoil the game for 
 him, that I will." 
 
 But notwithstanding her internal resolu- 
 tions, the good landlady remained perfectly 
 civil and attentive to Mr. Dry ; and guided by 
 tokens, which were not to be mistaken by one 
 of her experience, as to his fondness for cer- 
 tain creature comforts of existence, she at 
 length produced some clear and brilliant liquid, 
 the produce of the Dutch still, in a large flat- 
 sided black bottle, and persuaded him to drink 
 what she called a small glass thereof, though, 
 to say the truth, the measure was very capa- 
 cious. When he had drank it, he set down
 
 302 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 the glass again ; and looking up in Mrs. 
 White's face, observed — 
 
 " It is very good indeed, madam, and may 
 be permitted for the support of our jooor, weak 
 bodies after a long ride in such bleak and dis- 
 consolate weather." 
 
 " Take another glass, sir," said the hostess, 
 who stood at the end of the table with the 
 bottle still in her hand. 
 
 " On no account — on no account, Mistress 
 White," replied her guest ; " we may use such 
 things discreetly, but by no means go into ex- 
 cess. I would not for the world — don't talk 
 of it." 
 
 There are two ways, however, of under- 
 standing that same injunction, " don't talk of 
 it," which those who have been accustomed 
 to read the book of human nature find no 
 great difficulty in applying properly ; and in 
 this instance, as in many others, Mrs. White 
 saw that it meant " don't talk of it ; but do 
 it without talking," and therefore replying, 
 " Oh, sir, it 's very weak : it 's so old, 't is 
 scarcely stronger than water," she poured the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 303 
 
 glass full, as it stood at Mr. Dry's elbow, 
 while lie turned round to say something to 
 Arrali Neil on his other side. 
 
 The worthy gentleman took not the slight- 
 est notice of this proceeding ; but looking up 
 in Mrs. White's face, he said — 
 
 " And so you think, ma'am, that you will 
 be able to get me Master Hugh O'Donnell's 
 right address by to-morrow morning ?" 
 
 " I am certain of it," replied the landlady, 
 who thought there was no great harm in a 
 little confidence, whatever might be the result. 
 
 Arrah IN'eil looked down in silent thought, 
 and then raised her large, bright eyes with an 
 inquiring look in the landlady's face ; while 
 Mr. Dry, as if in a fit of absentness, took up 
 the glass, and sipped nearly one half of the 
 contents before he recollected what he was 
 about. He then, however, set it down sud- 
 denly, and inquired — 
 
 " Pray, can you tell me if Mr. Twigg the 
 dry-salter is now in Hull ? A God-fearing and 
 saintly man, Mrs. White, who used to hold 
 forth to the edification of a flock that was
 
 304 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 wont to assemble at the tabernacle in Back- 
 water alley." 
 
 " Oil, dear ! yes, sir; lie is in Hull," replied 
 Mrs. White. " I saw the good gentleman 
 only yesterday." 
 
 " Then I will go and visit him presently," 
 answered Mr. Dry. " Humble-minded folks 
 may always profit much of godly conversa- 
 tion ; and to do him but justice, he is always 
 ready to use his spiritual gifts for the benefit 
 of others." 
 
 Thus speaking, Mr. Dry, after contempla- 
 ting the glass for a moment, seemed to come 
 to the conclusion that there was no use of 
 leaving in it the little that remained. He ac- 
 cordingly tossed it off with a sudden motion 
 of the hand, and then set it resolutely down 
 upon the table again, as if defying the land- 
 lady, the Hollands, or the devil, to tempt him 
 to drink another drop. 
 
 The fiend and women, however, have gene- 
 rally more than one way of accomplishing 
 their object, and consequently Mrs. White, 
 after having pronounced an eulogium on the
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 305 
 
 graces of Mr. Twigg, and his friend Master 
 Theopliilus Longbone, the heinp-merchant, 
 who was likewise an acquaintance of her 
 guest's, she set down the bottle carelessly by 
 Mr. Dry's side, and retired into a little room, 
 with a glass window towards the passage, so 
 constructed as to afford a view of the door of 
 the house, with those of the chambers on the 
 irround floor, and also of the foot of the stairs. 
 
 Here she remained for about half an hour, 
 while sundry persons came in and out, spoke 
 to her or to some of her attendant satellites, 
 paid money, received change, brought in goods 
 for sale, amongst which it may be as well to 
 record six pairs of very fine pigeons in a 
 basket, or applied for small quantities of cor- 
 dials, which sometimes they drank upon the 
 spot, sometimes carried away in a vial bottle. 
 
 At length the door of the room in which 
 Mr. Dry had eaten his dinner opened, and 
 that worthy gentleman appeared, holding Arrah 
 Neil by the arm, and looking at her with 
 a somewhat inflamed and angry countenance, 
 from which Mrs. White augured that he was 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 
 
 AERAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 about to say something harsh and bitter to his 
 fair companion. She prepared accordingly to 
 interfere, fully resolved to protect the poor 
 girl at all risks, even if she were obliged 
 to call in the aid of the magistrates, town- 
 council, and governor himself; although, to 
 say the truth, she had no great love or 
 reverence for any of the party now dominant 
 in Hull. 
 
 Mr. Dry, however, uttered not a word, but 
 led his poor victim up to her chamber — made 
 her go in — and, locking the door, took out the 
 key. Mrs. White smiled, as with quick ears 
 she heard the various steps of this process, but 
 sat quite still at what we should now call the 
 bar, and marked the movements of Mr. Dry, 
 as he descended and stood for a moment in 
 the passage — those movements being some- 
 what peculiar, and indicating an internal per- 
 turbation of some sort. His back, indeed, 
 was turned towards the vs^orthy hostess, as he 
 looked out of the door leading into the street ; 
 but she perceived, that with his feet somewhat 
 apart, he first rested on his heels, then upon
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 307 
 
 tlie sole, tlien upon his heels ag*ain, his body- 
 gently swaying' backwards and forwards, and 
 his hands in his breeches-pockets. Mrs. AVhite 
 had seen such oscillations before in other men ; 
 and, when Mr. Dry made up his mind to the 
 course he was to pursue, and walked straight 
 out into the street, she herself hastened into 
 the eating-room, where the first object that 
 she examined was the black bottle, which 
 being held up to the light, exhibited a defi- 
 ciency of at least one -half. 
 
 '' Ay, the beast is well nigh drunk," said 
 Mrs. White, speaking to herself; " but that 's 
 a small matter, if he does no more than get 
 tipsy now and then. I '11 warrant he '11 be in 
 a fine state when he comes home from Master 
 Twigg's. He 's just such another as himself; 
 and they sit there, and drink and cant till 
 they all go home crying or quarrelling, as if 
 they were the most unhappy men in the 
 world. Well, religion is a good thing in its 
 way, and drink is a good thing ; but they 
 don't do mixed, anyhow." 
 
 Thus saying, she carried off the black bottle, 
 X 2
 
 308 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 placed it in its own jDeculiar receptacle, and 
 then calling a girl whom she named Nancy to 
 take her place in the bar, she walked quietly 
 up to the room of Arrah ISTeil. 
 
 It may be recollected by the reader, that 
 Mr. Dry had carefully locked the door, and 
 put the key in his pocket; but Mrs. White 
 was not a |)erson to be frustrated by such a 
 simple proceeding, for putting her hand to her 
 girdle, from which hung a ponderous bunch 
 of variously formed pieces of iron, she selected 
 one from the rest, which, being insinuated into 
 the keyhole, instantly turned the lock, and 
 gave her admission to the chamber without 
 the slightest difficulty. 
 
 Arrah Neil started up with a look of joy, 
 brushing away some drops that had gathered 
 in her eyes, and exclaiming, " I am so glad !" 
 
 " What ! poor soul !" cried Mrs. White ; 
 "you thought he had shut you up so that 
 nobody could get to you. But I am not such 
 a fool as to be without a mastei'-key in my 
 own house, so that if any other be lost I can 
 always open a door. What has the old man
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 309 
 
 been saying to you, my dear ? and what made 
 liim look so cross ?" 
 
 " Oh !" replied Arrah Neil, " he has been 
 saying things I do not understand ; and then 
 he asked if I would marry him, and said, that 
 if I would, I should have all his money at his 
 death ; but I told him, that if he had all the 
 wealth in the world, I would sooner die." 
 
 " Ay, that 's what made him cross," cried 
 the landlady. " Men do not like such words 
 as those, my dear. However, you did very 
 right ; for the sooner you let the old hypocrite 
 know your mind, the better. He 's a deep old 
 villain, though, or I am mistaken. I saw 
 you looked at me when he mentioned Hugh 
 O'Donnell. Do you know anything about 
 him ? Do you recollect the name ?" 
 
 " Yes, I do," replied Arrah Neil. " I am 
 sure I have heard it often ; but it must be long 
 ago.—Who is he ?— What is he?" 
 
 "Nay, that I can't tell," answered Mrs. 
 White. " I recollect him here, I think, in 
 my husband's time ; and I have seen him 
 once or twice about, since then, in the streets
 
 310 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 of the town, and in the market. But I know 
 nothing of him, except that he is a good sort 
 of man, I believe. One sees such a number of 
 people in a town like this ! He 's got a ship, 
 I believe, and trades to Ireland." 
 
 " To Ireland !" said Arrah IN'eil. And then 
 suddenly breaking off, she added, " I wish I 
 could get away. Cannot you let me out while 
 he 's gone ?" 
 
 " Oh ! that I can, my pretty lady," answered 
 the hostess ; " and you shall go away when- 
 ever you like. I w^on't stop you. But, I 
 think, it will be a great deal better for you to 
 stay a while, and see what all this comes to. 
 We may find out something that may clear 
 up the whole business ; and, besides, what 
 would you do if you were away ? Without 
 money, j^ou would be in a sad plight ; and, I 
 dare say, he does not let you have any in your 
 pocket?" 
 
 " I have two crown-pieces," replied Arrah 
 Neil ; " and with that I am sure I could get to 
 Annie Walton and her brother." 
 
 The widow shook her head, with a sad
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 3 J 1 
 
 smile. " 'T is a small sum to begin tlie world 
 with," she said, " and all alone. Besides, they 
 might overtake you. No, no, poor thing ! 
 leave it to me to settle some plan for you. I 
 will ansAver for it, he shall not take you away 
 from here, let him do what he will ; and, in 
 the mean time, I will set my wits to work to 
 find out the whole of this story. But now let 
 me hear, who is this Annie Walton and her 
 brother ? Come, sit down by me, and tell me 
 all you can recollect since the times we were 
 talking of this morning. It may help me to 
 find out the rest, and that 's the point." 
 
 Arrah Neil mused ; not that she had any 
 hesitation in relating to her companion all 
 that her own memory served to recall ; for it 
 is not those who have had few friends that are 
 suspicious, but those who have had friends 
 that have proved false. She had too rarely 
 met with the voice of kindness and sympathy, 
 not to yield her ear to it willingly, especially 
 when it came from one who was linked to the 
 sad, but sweet recollections of the past. She 
 had lived so long in a dream, however, — a
 
 312 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 dream from which nothing but the most im- 
 portant scenes and figures had stood forth in 
 full light, — that much was confused and indis- 
 tinct ; and she felt that she could but relate it 
 as it presented itself to remembrance, which, 
 she feared, might afford but a faint and misty 
 image to a stranger. It was with the good 
 widow^'s first question, then, that she com- 
 menced making her reply. " Annie Walton !" 
 she said ; " I wonder you have never heard of 
 her, she is so kind and so good; every one 
 knows her by her benefits." 
 
 " Ay, but if I understand right, my poor 
 young lady, she lives a long way off on the 
 other side of Coventry," replied the hostess ; 
 *' and while wicked doings travel on horseback, 
 the report of good ones trudges a-foot. Like 
 the waggoner's cart, it may be richly loaded, 
 but is long a-coming." 
 
 " Well, then," answered Arrah Neil, " she is 
 Lord Walton's daughter, sister of kind Charles 
 Walton, who is now Lord. The old man died 
 two years ago, and the lady long before that. 
 However, they have always been good to me.
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 616 
 
 and to my poor old grandfather, ever~since we 
 went to live at Bishop's Merton. 'Tis a long- 
 while ago now ; and between the time when 
 I was here and the days I first recollect there, 
 there seems a sort of gap, as if we had lived 
 somewhere else. But I remember well our first 
 arriving there, and going with my grandfather 
 to look at two or three cottages, till at length 
 he chose one just out of the town, upon the 
 green, by the old church." 
 
 " Were you then quite alone with him as 
 you went from Hull ?" asked the landlady. 
 
 "Quite;" answered Arrah Neil. "There 
 was no one with us, and we lived there quite 
 alone; and all the morning my grandfather 
 used to teach me all he knew, and to make 
 me read and write many an hour, and copy 
 things out of books, and explain to me about 
 different countries. I often thought it weari- 
 some, for it used to keep me from thinking of 
 things that were past, and from trying to bring 
 back to mind people and places that seemed 
 to cross my sight in haste, and disappear again 
 like the motes that we see in the sunshine.
 
 314 ARRAH NEIL ; OR, 
 
 which are lost as soon as they get into the 
 shade. But he was a good, kind, old man, 
 and everybody loved him. The boys used to 
 gather round him on the green at evening- 
 close, and listen to the stories he used to tell 
 of the wars in Ireland ; and Lord Walton, 
 from whom he hired the cottage, was very 
 kind, too, and often used to stop and talk witii 
 him, as he went by ; and Charles, the young 
 lord, and Miss Walton did the same. I 
 used very often to go up to the house, too, 
 and spent many a happy day there, though 
 I sometimes fancy that, on account of my 
 strange ways, and because I often fell into fits 
 of thought, they believed I was somewhat 
 weak in mind ; but if I could have seen this 
 house, it would have soon brought my brain 
 right. But, as I was saying, they were always 
 very kind to me ; and Charles Walton would 
 spend many an hour at the cottage, and listen 
 to my grandfather's tales." 
 
 " Ay," said the hostess, " he was an old 
 soldier, but he did not understand all the arts 
 of war."
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 315 
 
 Arrah Neil looked up in her face with an 
 inquiring air ; but good Mrs. White only 
 shook her head, and the poor girl proceeded. 
 " Charles Walton was away in strange coun- 
 tries for a long time ; and then again he went 
 to the wars ; but whenever he came back, he 
 used to visit us, though he grew graver and 
 more thoughtful as he became older, than he 
 was when he was a youth and I was a child ; 
 and I began to feel somewhat afraid of him — 
 no, not afraid, for he was always kind Charles 
 Walton to me, but I felt timid when he spoke 
 to me. However, his father died, and he be- 
 came lord of all the country round ; and he 
 had much to do and was often away. About 
 that time, this man, who is now here in Hull, 
 began to come sometimes to the house, but 
 my grandfather could not bear him ; and 
 though he treated him civilly, because he was 
 now in great power in the little town, and 
 every one seemed to do just as he bade them, 
 and all were afraid of him, yet he was always 
 cold and distant to him. One day, however, 
 this Ezekiel Dry came in while he was out.
 
 316 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 and he took me by tlie hand and began to say 
 thing-s I did not understand, as he did to- 
 night ; and I tried to go away ; but he 
 would not let me. Just then, my grandfather 
 came in, and immediately there were high 
 and threatening words ; and my grandfather 
 struck him with the staff he carried, and 
 knocked him down upon the ground ; then 
 taking him by the arms, he cast him out of 
 the cottage like a dog. After that he did 
 not come again for many months ; and in the 
 winter my poor old grandfather was taken ill, 
 and remained ever after feeble and sickly ; 
 and when he used to hear of the doings of the 
 parliament against the king, it always made 
 him worse, and he used to speak rash words, 
 I fear. Once or twice he wrote letters, and 
 sent them off by a man that sometimes came 
 to see him, and he received answers, too, 
 which he burned as soon as he had read them. 
 So it went on, till one day this summer, the 
 man Dry came with a number of soldiers, 
 when my grandfather was very ill in bed, and 
 said they had a warrant against him as a
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 317 
 
 malignant who was plotting treason against 
 the parliament, and they dragged him away, 
 in spite of all I could say, though I told them 
 it would kill him. Lord Walton was absent 
 then, and Dry would fain have prevented me 
 from going with my grandfather ; but one of 
 the soldiers was kinder than the rest, and said 
 I should go to tend the poor old man. They 
 put us in a cart and carried us along, and day 
 by day he grew weaker, till at length, at 
 Devizes, he died. Before his death, however, 
 just when his eyes were turning dim, he whis- 
 pered to me, ' Go back quick to the cot- 
 tage, Arrah, and in the back room behind 
 the bed, you will find a bundle of letters 
 and other things, which will tell you all 
 about yourself — I cannot;' and he said no 
 more." 
 
 " Did you find them 1 — Did you find them ?" 
 cried the landlady, eagerly. 
 
 " No," answered Arrah Neil, " for when I 
 got back to the cottage, it had been stripped 
 of everything, and I, too, had been robbed of 
 all I had taken with me by the soldiers on the
 
 318 ARRAH NEIL; OR, 
 
 road. One of them said that my gown was 
 pretty, and he would have it for his wife ; so 
 I gave it to him, for fear he should take it by 
 force." 
 
 The good hostess had mused, paying little 
 attention to the last few words, but at length 
 she exclaimed — " He has got them, young- 
 lady. He has got these letters, depend upon 
 it : ay, and he knows more of you than any 
 of us. You must find means to get them 
 back again. That is the only thing to be 
 done." 
 
 " Alas ! how can I," cried poor Arrah Neil. 
 " I am a mere jDrisoner, and unable to do any- 
 thing for myself. Oh, if I could but escape, 
 I should be content." 
 
 " Nay, nay, be not so impatient," said Mrs. 
 White ; " you shall escape in good time — I 
 give you my word for that ; but let us first 
 find out all that we can, for I have a notion 
 that your fortunes are better than they look, 
 or else this man would not be so eager to 
 keep you in his hands. You were no grand- 
 daughter of old Sergeant NeiFs, that I can
 
 TIMES OF OLD. 3l9 
 
 tell you ; and you may turn out a great ladv 
 after all. I am sure your poor mother looked 
 and spoke like one of the best of the land ; 
 and I do not see why you should not have 
 your rights as well as another." 
 
 *' A great lady !" said Arrah Neil, in a 
 musing tone, and with a melancholy shake of 
 the head ; " there is but one reason why I 
 should like to be a great lady, and that is to 
 show my gratitude to those who have been 
 kind to me." 
 
 " And a good reason, too," replied the land- 
 lady. " So you must not miss your chance, 
 my dear." 
 
 " Dame White ! Dame White !" cried a voice 
 from below. 
 
 " Hark ! they are calling me," said the 
 hostess ; and opening the door, she exclaimed, 
 " Here am I ; what do you want with me, 
 Nancy V 
 
 " Here are a heap of folks want to see you 
 directly," screamed Nancy, from the bottom 
 of the stairs. 
 
 " I must go, my dear," said the widow,
 
 320 ARRAH NEIL; OR, TIMES OF OLD. 
 
 turning to Arrali Neil, " but I will be back 
 with you directly ;" and thus saying, she 
 left her. 
 
 But poor Arrah was disappointed in regard 
 to the length of her absence, for more than an 
 hour passed, and the door gave admission to 
 no friendly face. 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
 London : Printed by Stewakt and Mueeay, Old Bailey.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA