"Why not?"

"The danger o' the roads now. If I'd a known you war on them, Win, dear, I should ha' been feelin' a bit uneasy."

Her game of false pretence was now nearly up. It had all been due to a fear which had suddenly come over her on seeing him again. Months had elapsed since they last met, and the rough Forester, erst in coa.r.s.e common attire, his locks s.h.a.ggy and unkempt, was now a man of military bearing, hair and whiskers neatly trimmed, in a well-fitting uniform resplendent with the glitter of gold. He was only a sergeant; but in her eyes no commanding officer of troop or regiment, not even the generalissimo of the army, could have looked either so grand or so handsome. But it was just that, with the thought of the long interval since they had last stood side by side, that now held her reticent. How knew she but that with such change outwardly, there might also have come change within his heart, and towards herself? A soldier too, now; one of a calling proverbial for gallantry as fickleness, living in a great city where, as she supposed, the eyes of many a syren would be turned luringly upon her grand Rob.

Had he yielded to their lures or resisted them? So she mentally and apprehensively interrogated. But only for a short while; the "Win, dear," in his old voice, with its old affectionate tone, and his solicitude for her safety, told he was still true.

Doubting it no longer, she threw aside the reserve that was beginning to perplex him, at the same time flinging her arms round his neck, and in turn kissing _him_.

That was her grateful rejoinder, sufficiently gratifying to him who received it, and leading him to further expressions of endearment. Glad was he they had arrived safe; and as to their errand at Bristol, which she cared no longer to keep from him, he forbore further questioning.

"Ye can tell me about it when we ha' more time to talk," he said. "But where do you an' Jack 'tend pa.s.sin' the night?"

"The old place us always stop at,--Bird-in-the-Bush Inn."

"That be over Avon's bridge?"

"Yes; just a street or two the other side." Bristol was no strange place to her. She, Jerky and Jink.u.m had made many a cadge thither before.

"I'd go 'long wi' ye to the Bird-in-the-Bush," said the guard-sergeant, "but, as ye see, I'm on duty at this gate, and musn't leave it for a minnit. If the captain was here--unlucky he isn't just now--he'd let me off, I know--seein' who it be."

"Why for seein' that, Rob?"

"Because o' his knowin' ye. He ha' seen you and Jack at Hollymead House."

"It be Sir Richard?"

"No, no," hastily responded the ex-deer-stealer, in turn, perhaps, experiencing a twinge of jealousy as when by the quarry on Cat's Hill.

"Sir Richard be in Bristol, too; but he's a colonel, not captain."

"Who be the captain, then?"

"That young Cavalier gentleman as comed to Hollymead 'long wi' Sir Richard, after fightin' him. He changed sides there, an's now on ours.

Ye heerd that, han't you?"

"Deed, yes. An' more; heerd why. 'Twas all through a sweet face him seed there--so be the word 'bout Ruardean."

"Well; I hope her won't disappoint he, after his doin' that for her.

Better nor braver than he an't in this big town o' Bristol. But, Win, dear," he added, changing tone, and slinging an arm round her neck, "'tan't any consarn o' ours. Oh! I be so glad to see ye again."

She knew he was now.

"Hang it!" he went on, "I only weesh my turn o' guard was over, so's I could go 'long wi' ye. Maybe when the captain come back he'll let me off for a hour or so. Sit up late, if ye ain't too tired. Ye will, won't ye?"

"I will; for you all night, Rob. Ay, till the sun o' morning shines clear in the sky."

Her pa.s.sionate and poetic words were succeeded, if not cut short, by a thumping on the pavement. Jerky's wooden leg it was; its owner approaching in the darkness, the rapid repet.i.tion of the thumps telling him to be in great haste.

"Winny!" he called to her in urgent tone, "us maunt linger here any longer. Ye know somethin' as needs our bein' quick about it."

"Yes, yes," she answered, excitedly, as if recalled to a duty she felt guilty of having trifled with or neglected. "I be ready to go on, Jack."

The guard-sergeant looked a little puzzled. There was a secret, after all, which had not been confided to him. What could it be?

Rough Forester though he had been, bold soldier as he now was, he lacked the courage, or rather the rudeness, to ask. It might be a question unwelcome.

Divining his thoughts, the woman said in a whisper,--

"Something Rob, us have sweared not to tell o' to anybody, 'till't be all over an' done. When's I see you at the inn 'twill be over, an' ye shall hear all about it."

"That be enough, Win?" said in rejoinder the trusting Rob; and the two great figures went apart in the shadowy night, the separation preceded by their lips once more meeting in a resonant smack.

On along the streets pa.s.sed the cadger party; Jack urging Jink.u.m to haste by a succession of vociferous "yee-ups," and now and then a sharp touch of the stick. He seemed angry with himself, or perhaps more at Winny, for having tarried so long by the gate.

"Good gracious!" he exclaimed in a troubled tone, "what if us get theer too late? Ye know, the Glo'ster governor told we not to waste one second o' time. Maybe better keep on straight to the castle. What d'ye say, Winny?"

"It be but a step to Bird-in-the-Bush, now. Won't take we mor'n ten minnits; that can't a make much difference. An' us can go faster when's we've left Jink.u.m in the inn yard."

Thus counselled and controlled, Jack, as was customary with him, gave way; and the trio continued on for the Bird-in-the-Bush.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

ON THE BRIDGE.

The river Avon bisecting the city of Bristol was spanned by a bridge; one of those quaint structures of the olden time, with a narrow causeway, high _tete-de-pont_, and houses along each side. There were shops and dwellings, with a church of rare architectural style and rarer proportions--being but twenty-one feet in width, while over seventy in length!

A conspicuous and important part did this bridge of Bristol play in the political action of the time; for it was invested with a political character. Creditable, too; the dwellers upon it--the "Bridgemen," as called--being all warm partisans of the Parliament. As a consequence, it was a favourite a.s.sembling-place for the citizens so disposed; especially in evening hours, after the day's work had been done.

Though dark and keenly cold that seventh of March night, it did not deter a number of them from congregating, as was their wont, about the bridge's head, to talk over the news and events of the day, with the prospects and probabilities for the morrow. The fervour of their patriotism rendered them regardless of personal discomfort or exposure; just as one may see at a political meeting in the present time the thronging thousands, packed thick as mackerels in a barrel, standing thus for hours, up till midnight--ay, morning, if leave be allowed them--eagerly listening to hear words of truth and promise, with the hope of the promise being fulfilled.

I know no more pleasing or grander spectacle than that to be witnessed from a Liberal platform, a sea of faces--the faces of the people--by their expression giving proof of man's natural inclinings to what is good and right, and abhorrence of what is wicked and wrong.

Nor can I conceive any shabbier spectacle than the crowd which usually displays itself before a platform where Toryism is preached. For there a.s.semble all who are the foes of liberty, the enemies and oppressors of mankind.

Among the friends of liberty that night gathered upon the bridge of Bristol were several men armed and wearing uniform; soldiers, though not belonging to any regiment of the regular army. Volunteers, they were; a force then for the first time heard of in England, taking the place of the militia or "trained bands." They were on guard with a young officer in command, one who afterwards made name and fame in the annals of his Country, and his sword sharply felt by its enemies. For it was Captain John Birch--the merchant-soldier.

The writers of the Restoration have flung their defiling mud at this brave man--which did not stick, however--by representing him as of humble birth, and mean calling--a common carrier, the driver of a pack-horse,--stigmas similar to that cast at Cromwell, the brewer of Huntingdon. But it should be remembered that in those days trade was not deemed degrading; and if here and there aristocratic noses were turned up at it, here and there also aristocratic people took a hand in it. What were the Coningsbys, those types of the Cavalier idea, but soap-boilers and soap-chandlers, holding a monopoly from the King for the making and selling of this useful commodity? As for John Birch, he was neither base-born nor of humble occupation; instead, engaged in honourable merchandise, and, for the times, on a somewhat extensive scale. His correspondence, extant, so far from proving him coa.r.s.e or illiterate, shows both refinement and education beyond most of his contemporaries--soldier or civilian--even superior to that of the King himself.

In intelligence and courage few were his equals, while, as a partisan leader, he is ent.i.tled to first place; some of his feats in the _guerilla_ line reading more like the fictions of troubadour romance.

One of the earliest and most ardent espousers of the Parliamentary cause, he had enrolled this company of Bristol volunteers--most of them "Bridgemen"--with a detail of whom on the bridge itself he was now keeping guard; not so much against an outside enemy, but one within the city's walls. Bristol was full of Cavalier officers, prisoners in its gaols, but many of them freely circulating through the streets _on parole_--ready to break it if they but saw the chance, as some of them, to their eternal disgrace, actually did; though it failed to disgrace them in the eyes of their Royal master, who rather, the more favoured them after--as with Vavasour--promoting them to higher command!

The treason not only winked at, but fostered, by the deposed governor-- now in the prison of Berkeley Castle--had not all been trodden out, but was still rampant, and ready to raise its Hydra head; so that Colonel Nathaniel Fiennes had his hands full in keeping it under. But he could not have had a better man to help him than John Birch. The young captain of Volunteers was especially prepared for this duty; since he had himself suffered from the late governor's delinquency--the insult of having been placed under arrest. So, tempered to vigilance, if not revenge, he held guard upon the bridge-head, watchful and wary, carefully scrutinising all who pa.s.sed over it.

While thus engaged he saw a party approaching of such singular composition as to attract him more than common. Little man with a wooden leg; tall woman nearly twice the man's height; between the two a donkey, with pair of panniers--Jack, Winny, and Jink.u.m.