8. VIII.
BACK TO CECIL COURT.
When I fully regained my senses, and realized my
actual whereabouts, I found myself lying in my bed at
Cecil Court, with the eyes of my father and Cicely
fixed upon me.
“Thank God!” exclaimed my father, drawing a
long breath, “the fever has taken a turn at last.”
Tears came to his eyes, and Cicely threw herself,
sobbing for joy, upon her knees, and pressed my thin
hand to her lips.
From that moment I began to convalesce, and was
soon informed of my own adventures after the battle.
Frank Villiers had come up just as I was falling from
my horse, and had managed to secure a hospital-wagon
flying wildly from the field. In this I was placed. A
considerable sum in gold had bribed the driver to
convey me to Cecil Court. I had arrived raging with
fever. For months my life had been despaired of, for
a bullet had passed through my chest; but finally youth
and health had conquered, and I rallied from the very
brink of the grave.
It was to find the arms of my father and sister around
me, but to realize that the royal cause was lost, and
that our brave, our dear Harry was forever taken from
us. His last charge and his fall had become known at
Cecil Court, and the woeful duty devolved upon me
now to relate the particulars. I did so, in the midst
of sobs, and with a great gush of tears from my own
eyes. Father and sister wept in silence. Cicely drew
close to me, kissed me, and murmured,—
“You alone are left us.”
Months passed on, and I grew stronger. Finally I
left my sick-bed and began to totter about the house.
A hopeless sadness had taken possession of me. I
scarce gave a thought to the fate of the cause I had
fought for, thinking only of my brother and his dying
face.
A languid interest in public affairs came finally to
dispute this possessing thought. Naseby had ended
the struggle. Soon thereafter Prince Rupert surrendered
Bristol, for which, 'twas said, the king had disgraced
and banished him. Then his majesty took
refuge with a remnant of force at Oxford. Then he
fled to Newark, delivering himself up to the Scottish army.
It was not until late summer that I was able to leave
the house and move slowly about the grounds at Cecil
Court. No one molested me. Sir Jervas Ireton's
flaming loyalty to the parliament had secured him an
official appointment in London; and no one in the
vicinity seemed disposed to harass the poor wounded
officer. Still, there was no certainty that, at any
moment, I would not be arrested. I was therefore
anxious to leave Cecil Court and not compromise my
father. Whither I should go was a difficult question.
But I could find a refuge somewhere. And it was just
at the moment when I heard that Sir Jervas Ireton
was coming down from London that an unforeseen incident
occurred which was to send me forth again upon
the stormy waters of that troubled epoch.
