On this Jacob and Jack Veal were allowed instantly to go on the terrace, Paul Gauntlett slipping in with them. The King beckoned them forward.

Doffing their hats, they stood in a row before his Majesty, Paul a little behind the others ready to make a military salute, while Jacob and Jack kept hauling away at one of the love-locks with which their foreheads were bedecked.

"Let me hear all about it. What have you got to say, my man?" asked the King, looking at Jacob.

"Please your Majesty, he no more wanted to mutiny against your Majesty than the babe unborn," began Jacob. "Please your Majesty, there's not a more loyal subject of your Majesty's in England, not except old Pike, whom your Majesty recollects at Lynderton, and who used to get drunk regularly on your Majesty's birthday drinking your Majesty's health."

"What, do you know old Pike?" exclaimed the King, laughing; "I hope he is well."

"Oh! bless you, your Majesty, he was well and as merry as a cricket when I was last at home. I have been foreign since then, and have not seen him or my old mother for many a day."

"Ah, well, I wish all my subjects were as loyal as old Pike," observed the King, turning round and narrating the anecdote of the prostration performed by the old mace-bearer before him. "And now about this young man, you say he is innocent, but how can you prove it?"

"Why, your Majesty, I can swear my Bible oath that I saw Richard Parker clap a pistol to his head and tell him if he did not obey orders he would blow his brains out. Now, your Majesty, do you see, he thought to himself, `If my brains are blown out I can never serve the King again, and if I merely write as I am made to do there can be no great harm in that, and the time will come when I may be able to serve my good King as before.' Now, your Majesty, I ask if a man was to treat you like that, whether you would not think it was wiser to obey him than to kick up a row about it?"

"As to that, it would depend very much upon what the man wanted me to do," answered the King. "However, it is clear your young friend acted on compulsion, if your oath is of any value; and what does your shipmate there say?"

"Please your Majesty, I can swear the same thing," answered Jack Veal, "and what is more, we can bring several other men to prove that what we say is the truth."

"And what do you say, my tall friend?" said the King, looking up at Paul.

"Please your Majesty, I have known the lad from his boyhood. He is true and loyal to the backbone," answered Paul, making a salute. "His grandfather, General Tryon, served your Majesty, and perhaps your Majesty remembers the ride he took with you through the forest after your Majesty's visit to Stanmore."

"Ah! yes, yes, let me see. I remember the youth well," said the King.

"A well-mannered, intelligent lad. It would be a great pity to have him hung, of course it would," he remarked, turning round, to the Queen and princesses who were standing with him. "But, my dear young lady, I cannot act in this matter without the advice of my ministers. You must go and see Mr. Pitt, and learn what he has to say. If he consents, I will pardon the lad with all my heart."

"Most deeply do I thank your Majesty for those kind words," answered Mabel; "but time is precious. Any instant he may be led out to execution, and some time would pa.s.s before we could apply to the minister."

"Oh, that gentleman will help you," answered the King, turning to Mr.

Kyffin, "he looks like a lawyer, a clever man, I am sure. You will help the young lady, will you not?" said the King.

"Armed with a line signed by your Majesty I certainly could do so,"

answered Mr. Kyffin, bowing. "We will hasten back to town and see Mr.

Pitt, and in the meantime, provided with the order to stay the execution, we will proceed to the ship where the prisoner is confined."

"Come along, then," said the King, with a kind encouraging glance at Mabel. "You shall have the paper; I hope it is not unconst.i.tutional.

What is the lad's name?"

"Harry Tryon," answered Mabel.

"Please your Majesty, that is his real name," put in Jacob Tuttle, hearing the answer; "but the name he is to be hung by is Andrew Brown; and please your Majesty, if you only give the order to stop Harry Tryon being hung, poor Andrew Brown may be hung up notwithstanding."

"I see, I see," said the King. "Well, then, as you are in a hurry, my dear young lady, we will draw out the paper."

On this the King, with several members of the royal family, attended by Mabel and Mr. Kyffin, entered the castle by the side door. The King walked rapidly on through several pa.s.sages till he entered his private room. Sitting down at a desk he began to write, the rest of the party standing at a respectful distance round him.

"There, my dear young lady, this, I believe, will have its effect," he observed, as he finished the papers and handed them to Mabel. "You will not lose them, eh? The one you can send on board the ship and the other to the minister. He will attend to my request, I hope. Now speed ye well, and G.o.d bless you."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

THE PRISON SHIP.--THE GREAT MINISTER.--A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE.

Some way up the Thames lay a large hulk. Her decks were housed in, her hulk was black; she bore but little resemblance to the stout ship she had once been, except from the ports which were to be seen on either side. They were very thickly grated. It was the prison ship. Low down in one of the dark cells below the water-line, with manacles on his ankles, lay Harry Tryon. His cheeks had become pale, his eye had lost much of its brightness, but hope had not altogether died within him.

Still he was fully sensible of the dangerous position in which he was placed. He had become of late a wiser and a sadder man than he had ever been before. Still as day after day pa.s.sed by and no friends came near him, his spirits sank lower and lower.

"Have they all deserted me?" he said to himself, clasping his hands.

"Mr. Kyffin would not, I am sure, and Mabel--she knows nothing of my desperate state. Would that I had written to her. Some effort might have been made to save me; but I could not bear the thought of writing to her as a felon, to let her hand touch the paper smelling of this foul prison. Better far that I should die unknown. When the wretched Andrew Brown is run up to the yard-arm there will be no one to mourn him, and Harry Tryon may disappear without a stain of disgrace upon the name."

He attempted to rise--he could do so with difficulty--to take a few turns up and down the narrow cell. Scarcely ever was he left in silence. There was the ripple of the water against the ship's side; above him the steps of other prisoners as they, like him, paced to and fro. Now and then there were shouts and cries of men driven to despair by their approaching fate, others singing and shouting with careless indifference. It was weary work, that prison walk, for the chains were heavy. The gyves hurt his legs. Again he sat himself down, and clasped his hands upon his knees.

"Death! death will be welcome!" he exclaimed, "the only termination to my misery and shame."

As he thus sat his ears caught the sound of footsteps moving along the pa.s.sage outside. The lock in the heavy door moved, it opened, and a bright light which dazzled his eyes burst in.

"They are come," he thought, "to carry me off."

"I am ready," he said, starting up, expecting to see the gaoler and the guard of soldiers. Instead, as his eyes recovered their vision, he saw standing before him his ever faithful guardian Roger Kyffin. He sprang forward, then stopped for a moment and hung down his head.

"You cannot come to own a wretched convict like me," he exclaimed, in a tone of sadness.

"Do not say that, Harry," answered Mr. Kyffin, stepping forward and taking his hands. "Not a moment's rest or happiness have I enjoyed since I learned the dangerous position in which you were placed. Do not doubt the regard I must ever have for you. I have discovered how you have been deceived, and how you were induced to desert your truest friend; I have therefore every excuse for you. I have learned that even in this instance you are guiltless of disloyalty, and, believe me, Harry, however guilty you have been, I should still have looked upon you as a son."

"You make me desire once more to live," exclaimed Harry, for the first time perhaps in his life bursting into tears. "I thought no one cared for me. I was prepared to die unknown and unlamented; and oh! tell me, Mr. Kyffin, does Mabel know of my condition?--has she discarded me?"

His voice trembled. He looked eagerly in his guardian's face for a reply.

"No, Harry, indeed she has not discarded you. She is true-hearted."

"Is there any hope for me--must I suffer as so many unhappy men have done?" gasped out Harry.

"There is hope, my boy. I cannot say for a certainty that you will be saved. Mabel herself obtained from the King a request to his ministers that your life should be spared, and I have seen the governor of the prison, and he believes it confers sufficient authority on him not to deliver you up till his Majesty's pleasure shall be further known."

Mr. Kyffin then explained to Harry more clearly the particulars of which the reader is already aware. Harry Tryon sank down on his knees, and thanked Heaven from the depth of his heart for the prospect of a release from the ignominious death for which he had been prepared. Alas! he had not often truly prayed. His grandmother had not attempted to teach him even a form of prayer, and seldom, during the life he spent in London had he ever dared to kneel to ask a blessing of his Heavenly Father. He had now, however, learned an important lesson. He had felt his utter helplessness and weakness, and had discovered that when lifting up his heart to G.o.d he received a strength and courage which he could by no other means have obtained.

"And Mabel! bless her for what she has done for me! But oh! Mr.

Kyffin, tell me where is she, how is she?"

"She bears up wonderfully," answered Mr. Kyffin, "and even now she and her kind friend Mrs. Barbara Thornborough have gone to Mr. Pitt to endeavour, if possible, to see him, and obtain his warrant for your liberation."

"Then I am sure she will succeed," exclaimed Harry, joyfully.

"Do not raise your hopes too high, my boy, and yet I would wish to support and encourage you," remarked Mr. Kyffin. "My stay with you now must be short, as I promised to meet Miss Everard after she had had an interview with the minister. Even should he refuse, we must not lose heart. We must bring other influence to bear on him. However, Harry, I know you too well to think that there is any necessity to urge you not to despair. And now farewell. I purpose to return before long. I hope to bring good news, but you must not be disappointed if it is not as good as we wish. This mutiny, so happily quelled has been very serious, and might have proved most disastrous to the country. The nation therefore is naturally little inclined to look with leniency on those who took a part in it, especially on the leaders; and from your having been a.s.sociated with Parker, you, in the ordinary course, could scarcely expect a pardon."

Mr. Kyffin was gone, and Harry was once more left to his own thoughts.

The hours pa.s.sed wearily by, they seemed longer than any during his imprisonment. Sleep would not visit his eyelids. Anxiously he listened for every sound, hoping for the speedy return of his friend.

Meantime Mabel, who had parted from Mr. Kyffin at Mr. Thornborough's house after their return from Windsor, prepared to set out with Mrs.

Barbara, attended by the two seamen and Paul,--to Mr. Pitt's house at Putney. She waited but a short time to obtain a little refreshment which Mistress Barbara urged on her, and together they drove towards the residence of the minister, while Mr. Kyffin proceeded down the river to pay the visit to Harry which has been described.