His countenance still retained its noble outline, but the features were thin and sharpened and of a deathly hue.

His hands were clasped upon his breast, his eyes turned upwards, and he was evidently repeating a prayer, which Mr. Hargrave, the chaplain, an elderly man, seated near the bedside, was reading to him.

The tapers that had been burning throughout the night had only just been extinguished, and the window curtains drawn back, so as to admit the light of day, but the early sunbeams that fell upon the arras and oak panels gave no cheerfulness to the room. On the contrary, they made the picture even more painful by force of contrast.

In a large easy-chair sat Doctor Gerard, apparently dozing, but ever and anon he opened his eyes to look towards the bed.

The entrance of Lord Strange was so quiet that it did not attract the earl's notice, and he remained for some moments gazing at his father.

During this interval, Doctor Gerard, receiving a sign to that effect, did not quit his seat, and Mr. Hargrave went on with the prayer.

At length Lord Strange advanced towards the bed, and taking the earl's hand said: "Father, I am here."

Something like a smile lighted up the dying nobleman's pallid countenance.

"I knew you would come, my son," he murmured.

"Shall we leave the room, my lord?" inquired the chaplain, addressing Lord Strange. "The earl has something to say to you in private."

"I pray you do so, good Master Hargrave," said, Lord Strange. "But remain without with Doctor Gerard," he added in a lower tone.

The chaplain bowed and went out with the physician.

"We are alone, father," said Lord Strange.

"Come as near to me as you can, or you will not hear my words," said the earl, placing his arm over his son's neck, and regarding him with a loving and pitying look. "I am much troubled in mind concerning you. It seems to me that I can look into the future, and I have a sad foreboding that all your possessions will be taken from you, and that a tragical death awaits you."

"Let not that trouble you, father," said Lord Strange. "If such is my destiny, it cannot be avoided. I trust I shall be able to meet death firmly in whatever shape it may come. Be sure I shall never die dishonoured."

"But why pursue a course that appears certain to lead to this end, my son? Why sacrifice yourself for a king who rewards you with ingratitude? Retire to the Isle of Man, where you can dwell securely till this struggle is over. By taking a prominent part in it, you will gain nothing, and may lose all."

"I cannot follow your counsel, father," replied Lord Strange. "Be the consequences what they may, I will not desert the king. I should tarnish my name were I to withdraw from him now."

"Not so, my son," rejoined the earl. "The course I point out is the only one left you. The king trusts you not, but listens to your enemies, and will never believe in your professions of loyalty. 'Tis in vain, therefore, that you attempt to serve him. You have nothing but mortification and disappointment to expect. Why throw away life for one who treats you thus? Fight not against him, but fight not for him."

"I can make no promise, my lord. His majesty has just sent for me, and what he commands I shall do."

"Make any excuses rather than go to him," said the earl. "You will not disobey my dying injunctions!"

"I ought to be with his majesty now, my lord-but I am here," replied Lord Strange, somewhat evasively.

"Remain here, I charge you, my son-at least for some days after my death," said the earl, solemnly and authoritatively.

"Ask me not more than I am able to perform, father," rejoined Lord Strange, evidently a prey to conflicting emotions. "Enjoin aught I can do, and your wishes shall be fulfilled."

"My wishes have been expressed," said the earl, somewhat reproachfully; "and since you refuse to comply with them, there is no need of further speech. Oh! that you could see into the future as plainly as I can!"

"If I have offended you, father, I humbly crave your pardon," said Lord Strange.

"Nay, I have nothing to pardon, my dear son," said the dying nobleman. "My sole desire is to preserve you from danger. Take my blessing. Say farewell for me to your wife and children. Fain would I have seen them once more-but it may not be! We shall all meet in heaven."

While he uttered these words, a change came over the earl's countenance that could not be mistaken. He sank back upon the pillow and immediately expired.

Half an hour had elapsed, when the door was opened, and those outside were invited to enter the chamber of death. With the chaplain and physician were Frank Standish and Warburton, the butler. None were surprised to find that all was over.

"Let me be first to salute your lordship as Earl of Derby," said Standish, bowing deeply as he came in.

"I do not desire the title in this presence," rejoined the new earl. "Approach the bed, I pray you, good Master Hargrave, and you will see how calm my father looks. He might be in a placid slumber."

"He has died the death of the righteous," said the chaplain. "His life has been a long preparation for the final hour, and it has found him prepared."

Bending down he took the hand of the departed, and pressed his lips to it. His example was followed by the others, but no one seemed so profoundly affected as Warburton.

The new earl witnessed this touching scene in silence, and then giving some needful orders to the butler, and directing that the household should be admitted to view the body of their deceased lord, he withdrew to an adjoining chamber, where he penned a despatch to the king, acquainting him with the sad event, and adding that he hoped to join his majesty at Nottingham on the morrow.

He then wrote a few lines to his wife, and having sent off messengers with the letters, threw himself upon a couch, quite worn out with anxiety and fatigue.

After a few hours' slumber, the new Earl of Derby arose, and had an immediate conference with Mr. Hargrave.

"I am compelled to attend the king at Nottingham," he said, "and must therefore commit the management of my father's funeral to you. The body will lie in state for four days, and should I not return in that interval, you will cause it to be conveyed, without pomp or ceremony, according to the wishes of the departed, to the church of Ormskirk, there to be deposited in our family vault beneath the Derby chapel by the side of my angelic mother."

"Your lordship may rely on me," replied the chaplain. "On the fifth day, the interment shall take place at Ormskirk, as you have directed."

IV.

Prince Rupert

BEFORE setting out for Nottingham, the Earl of Derby again visited the chamber of the dead, and looked his last upon his father's face.

With a mournful heart he then mounted his steed, and rode off, accompanied by Captain Standish and the armed attendants he had brought with him.

For more than an hour he spoke not a word, and seemed occupied in painful reflections. He then made an effort to rouse himself, but speedily relapsed into silence, and continued in the same melancholy mood till they reached Mansfield, where they halted for the night.

Next morning, the earl resumed his journey, and the sight of Nottingham Castle, seated on a precipitous rock, overlooking the portion of Sherwood Forest across which he was riding, filled him with emotions very different from those he had experienced on the previous day, and in some degree dispelled his gloom.

Above the fortress could be seen the royal standard. Proudly it floated now, but an ill omen had attended its first display. Reared on the castle during a storm, it was speedily blown down; nor could it be set up again till the fury of the storm had abated, when it was placed on the keep.

The Earl of Derby did not forget this inauspicious circumstance, and it surprised him to find that the castle was not more strongly fortified, since he was aware the Parliament had a body of five hundred infantry and fifteen hundred horse at Coventry. There were no cannon on the walls, and very few musketeers.

While he mounted the steep ascent leading to the gateway, trumpets were sounded and drums beaten, and a troop of horse came forth, their helmets and cuirasses glittering in the sun. They were a remarkably fine body of men, and very well mounted.

Their leader was a very striking personage, and instantly attracted Lord Derby's attention, who knew him at a glance.

The Cavalier in question was very tall, and possessed a spare but well-knit and vigorous frame. His dark stern visage was lighted up by eyes that seemed capable of the fiercest expression. He had a thoroughly military bearing, and no one could look at him without seeing that, young as he was, he had served in many a campaign.

He wore a richly-embroidered buff coat, encircled by a crimson scarf, and crossed by a magnificent baldrick, from which a long sword depended. Riding-boots ascending above the knee, and a broad-leaved Spanish hat, ornamented with a plume of white feathers, completed his costume. His fiery steed seemed proud of his rider.

In this haughty Cavalier Lord Derby instantly recognised Prince Rupert, the king's nephew, and the brother of the Elector-Palatine. Prince Rupert had been appointed general-in-chief of the royal cavalry quartered at Leicester.

As the prince's quick eye alighted on the earl, he checked his impatient steed in order to speak to him. Hitherto they had seen little of each other, though Rupert was a relative of the countess; but Lord Derby had a genuine admiration of the prince, whose daring and military skill he fully appreciated; while Rupert, though sharing the king's belief that Lord Derby nourished ambitious designs, did full justice to his noble qualities.

Courteous salutations passed between them; but Prince Rupert's manner was necessarily grave, as he thus addressed the earl: "I have to offer your lordship my sincere condolence on the death of the noble earl your father. Intelligence of the sad event was received by his majesty this morning, and he immediately communicated it to me. I own that I scarcely thought your lordship would come hither at a season of such heavy affliction; but I did not estimate aright your devotion to the king. In truth, he has great need of your services. 'Tis not too much to say that you alone can put down the rebels in Lancashire, and I doubt not you will quickly do it."

"Two months ago I could have crushed the rebellion in that county without difficulty, your highness," replied the earl; "but now things are changed. Manchester and Bolton are both strongly fortified and well garrisoned."

"I know it, my lord," replied Prince Rupert. "But neither town can hold out long against you, if you are resolved to take it."

"Manchester will make an obstinate resistance," remarked the earl.

"If it should be so, put the whole garrison to the sword," said the prince, sternly. "Spare none. Too much leniency has been shown the rebels. But you will receive your orders from the king. You will find Lord Molineux and Sir Thomas Tyldesley with him. I am going to Leicester. Farewell, my lord. Remember me, I pray you, to my cousin, the countess. I hope soon to hear you are master of Manchester."

As Prince Rupert rode down the hill, Lord Derby and his followers, passed through the gateway of the castle.

V.

Charles the First

THE Earl of Derby expected to find the court thronged with musketeers and pike-men, but very few soldiers were to be seen. Half a dozen yeomen of the guard, bearing partisans, were stationed at the entrance to that part of the castle occupied by the king and his suite.

Having dismounted, the earl proceeded thither followed by Frank Standish, and was ceremoniously conducted by a groom of the chambers and some other officers of the household to the royal apartments.

Frank Standish remained in the guard-chamber, where several other persons were waiting, but the earl was at once taken to the king's cabinet.

At a table covered with papers and despatches sat Charles. Why attempt to depict the features of the unfortunate monarch, since all are familiar with them, and can summon up his image at will? Suffice it to say, that although the king looked grave and melancholy, his countenance did not want the placidity that habitually characterised it.

His habiliments were of black velvet, and a falling band, deeply edged with lace, served to set off his noble head.

With the king were the two persons referred to by Prince Rupert-both of whom were friends of Lord Derby.

Viscount Molineux of Maryborough was a fine-looking young man, and had quite the air of a Cavalier. Sir Thomas Tyldesley of Mierscough Lodge, near Lancaster, and the representative of an old Lancashire family, was likewise a handsome man, but somewhat older and more robust than his companion. Both were accoutred in steel breastplates and tassets, and each had a long sword suspended from a baldrick.

As the Earl of Derby went to kiss the king's hand, his majesty said earnestly: "My lord, I thank you for coming to me now. I take it as a proof of your devotion."

"Your majesty is well aware that I am ever ready to obey your behests," replied the earl. "In staying to receive my father's last sigh, I felt sure I should not incur your majesty's displeasure."

"I should have been sorry if you had done otherwise, my lord," said Charles; "and if you had tarried to lay your father in the tomb, I should not have blamed you, however much I might regret your absence. I have urgent need of your services. The rebellion is making rapid progress in Lancashire, and must be checked. No one can accomplish this so effectually as yourself, since no one has such power and influence as you have in the county. I have been consulting with Lord Molineux and Sir Thomas Tyldesley, and they entirely agree with me that to your lordship alone ought the task to be entrusted."

"Such is our opinion, sire," observed Lord Molineux. "No one can raise so large a force in Lancashire as the Earl of Derby."

"That is quite certain," added Sir Thomas Tyldesley. "Your majesty will recollect that his lordship once raised sixty thousand men, and what has been done before may be done again."

"Not now, Sir Thomas," said the earl. "I doubt if a third of the number may be got together. Had your majesty deigned to follow my advice, and raised your standard at Warrington instead of here, at Nottingham, you would now have a large army. Instead of this, I fear that very few have responded to your proclamation."

"Few, indeed," said the king. "I have only three hundred infantry and some militia brought me by the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire."

"Not more, sire?" exclaimed the earl, startled.

"At Leicester I have eight hundred horse," pursued the king. "Prince Rupert has just been here, and urges me strongly to quit this castle, representing to me that I am in great danger from the Parliamentarian forces at Coventry. But I cannot retire from Nottingham."

"I observe there is no cannon on the wall," said Lord Derby. "Should an attack be made on the castle how can you resist it? I beseech your majesty to retire in time, or you may fall into the hands of the enemy. Lathom House is fortified, and would stand a siege. Take possession of it, sire. I will undertake to raise you two thousand foot and a thousand horse. With these you can hold out against the rebels till you can get together an army, and give them battle."

"I have planted my standard at Nottingham," replied the king; "and at Nottingham I will remain. I will not trust myself in Lancashire-unless at the head of an army, and it seems you cannot muster six thousand men."

"The large force I had mustered has dwindled away," said Lord Derby.

"Most of them have joined the rebels," observed Lord Molineux.

The Earl of Derby looked grave.

"I have come here in obedience to your summons, sire," he said. "How can I serve you?"

"I may ask more than your lordship can perform," said the king. "My desire is, that you should crush the rebellion in Lancashire, and begin with Manchester. Can you do this?"

"I have every confidence that I can carry out your wishes, sire," replied the earl. "But I doubt not the garrison at Manchester will be strongly reinforced by the Parliament. I may not, therefore, be able to accomplish the task as quickly as you expect. I believe the town is fully prepared for a siege."

"Lord Molineux and Sir Thomas Tyldesley have just told me so, but I can scarcely credit it," remarked the king.

"A German engineer, named Rosworm, has thoroughly fortified the town, sire," said Sir Thomas Tyldesley.

"There will be this advantage in the siege, sire, that it will distract the attention of the enemy from Nottingham," observed the Earl of Derby. "What I most dread is that your majesty should be attacked. Once more I beg you to let me bring you all the aid I can."

"I will send to you, if it should be necessary," said Charles. "Lord Southampton, Culpepper, and others of my council suggest that I should propose terms of peace in order to gain time-but I like not the plan."

"'Tis good advice, my liege," rejoined the Earl of Derby. "Much may be done while the question is discussed, and if some successes are gained in Lancashire, the present posture of affairs may be wholly changed."