St. George and St. Michael Volume III eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 169 pages of information about St. George and St. Michael Volume III.

Having satisfied his curiosity with a survey of the place, and left a guard to receive orders from Mr. Herbert, the general mounted again and rode to Chepstow, where there was a grand entertainment that evening to celebrate the fall of Raglan, the last of the strongholds of the king.

CHAPTER LV.

R. I. P.

As the sad, shining company of the marquis went from the gates, running at full speed to overtake the rear ere it should have passed through, came Caspar, and mounting a horse led for him, rode near Dorothy.

As they left the brick gate, a horseman joined the procession from outside.  Pale and worn, with bent head and sad face, sir Rowland Scudamore fell into the ranks amongst his friends of the garrison, and with them rode in silence.

Many a look did Dorothy cast around her as she rode, but only once, on the crest of a grassy hill that rose abrupt from the highway a few miles from Raglan, did she catch sight of Richard mounted on Lady.  All her life after, as often as trouble came, that figure rose against the sky of her inner world, and was to her a type of the sleepless watch of the universe.

Soon, from flank and rear, in this direction and that, each to some haven or home, servants and soldiers began to drop away.  Before they reached the forest of Dean, the cortege had greatly dwindled, for many belonged to villages, small towns, and farms on the way, and their orders had been to go home and wait better times.  When he reached London, except the chief officers of his household, one of his own pages, and some of his daughters’ gentlewomen and menials, the marquis had few attendants left beyond Caspar and Shafto.

It was a long and weary journey for him, occupying a whole week.  One evening he was so tired and unwell that they were forced to put up with what quarters they could find in a very poor little town.  Early in the morning, however, they were up and away.  When they had gone some ten miles—­lord Charles was riding beside the coach and chatting with his sisters—­a remark was made not complimentary to their accommodation of the previous night.

‘True,’ said lord Charles; ’it was a very scurvy inn, but we must not forget that the reckoning was cheap.’

While he spoke, one of the household had approached the marquis, who sat on the other side of the carriage, and said something in a low voice.

‘Say’st thou so!’ returned his lordship. ’—­Hear’st thou, my lord Charles?  Thou talkest of a cheap reckoning!  I never paid so dear for a lodging in my life.  Here is master Wharton hath just told me that they have left a thousand pound under a bench in the chamber we broke our fast in.  Truly they are overpaid for what we had!’

‘We have sent back after it, my lord,’ said Mr. Wharton.

‘You will never see the money again,’ said lord Charles.

‘Oh, peace!’ said the marquis.  ’If they will not be known of the money, you shall see it in a brave inn in a short time.’

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St. George and St. Michael Volume III from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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