And he leapt from his horse and came hastening to take our hands, and I knew, and was glad to know it, that the terrible suspicion we had fostered against him was groundless. But since he was innocent, who was it that was guilty?
XXXVI
Of the End of Our Search
“Alas, Will!” whispered Philip, as Captain Trevor approached us, “we are on the wrong track. This man is innocent enough. We have been fooled somewhere.”
“And what brings you here, gentlemen?” asked Captain Trevor, shaking hands with both. “Are you on some similar mission to my own? I am taking a troop of horse to Newark—’tis my first adventure, Master Dale, since I left you.”
“Alas!” said Philip, “we are on a sad adventure indeed, and just now our prospects look black enough. However, there is one load off our minds, as you shall hear;” and he forthwith proceeded to give an account of all that had befallen us from the time that Belwether brought us the bad news to Pontefract Castle even to that moment.
Now, while he spoke Captain Trevor gave evidence of the keenest interest and of the liveliest indignation, and when Philip Lisle told him of our meeting with Dennis Watson, and of what Dennis had said respecting him, his face flushed and his hand grasped the hilt of his sword in a way that boded no good to his false accuser.
“But you believed him not, gentlemen?” he said earnestly. “I trust you believed him not. And yet why have you come here if you did not believe him? Alas, gentlemen, I should have thought you had known me better than to believe me guilty of such black conduct!”
“Sir,” said I, “let me tell you that in my heart I did not believe it, but there were two witnesses against you, and we were bound to satisfy ourselves in justice to ourselves and to you. Besides, we thought it possible that some terrible mistake had arisen.”
“Yes, yes,” said he; “but, oh, gentlemen, it is you who have made a terrible mistake. Can you not see, Master Dale, that the man who so falsely accused me is the man who hath wrought this mischief?”
“Dennis Watson?”
“Dennis Watson of a surety. Did I not hear, when I was at Dale’s Field, that he was your enemy and had more than once vowed to do you an injury? Rest assured, Master Dale, that it is he who hath planned and carried out this matter.”
Then I saw what fools we had been, and how easily Dennis Watson had duped us, and I swore a great oath that whenever he and I next met, whether in highway or byway, street or marketplace, in church or court, there one of us two should go forth no more. And that oath I kept, even as God willed it.
“And now, gentlemen,” said Captain Trevor, “you must back to yonder wayside inn that you spoke of, for it is there that you will find the key to this mystery. Yea, I am convinced that the host who bore out Watson’s statement is implicated with him in this plot against you. Now, it will not be so much out of our way to go with you, for we can make Newark by way of Retford, so mount, gentlemen, and let us push on.”
“But these men?” said I, pointing towards the farmstead, which now stood white and clear in the moonlight. “Shall we not see to the one that is living?”
“Nay,” said Trevor, “his companion will presently return when he sees us ride away, and we have no time to attend to cutthroats. I have long known that this gang needed stamping out, Master Dale, and am obliged to you for what you have done. So now let us away.”
And with that we got into our saddles and departed, soon leaving the ruined farmstead far behind; and from that day to this I have never heard whether the man died or whether he recovered, nor did I much care, considering what trouble of mind he and his companions had put me to.
We rode along through the valleys between the hills during the whole of that night, and came in sight of Sheffield about six o’clock in the morning. But into Sheffield Captain Trevor would not go, because it was principally in the hands of the Parliamentarians, and we therefore took a roundabout direction southwards of the town, and went towards Rotherham by way of Beauchief Abbey and the villages of Woodhouse and Whiston. At Rotherham we stayed to bait our horses, it being then almost noon and the march having lasted nearly twelve hours. Here we heard news of his Majesty’s success at Leicester, which was communicated to us by a messenger going north from Newark. Here, too, we learnt that the King had expressed his hopes of shortly achieving a great victory over the Roundheads, which hopes, however, were unfulfilled, for the battle of Naseby, which took place a few days later, routed the Royalist army forever.
It was about two o’clock in the afternoon when we left Rotherham and proceeded along the highway in the direction of Thrybergh. The wayside inn where we had seen Dennis Watson lay halfway between these two places, and it was not long before we came in sight of it and drew up to confer amongst ourselves as to what plan of action we should pursue.
“Leave it to me,” said Captain Trevor. “If matters are as I suspect, I will bring them to a successful ending. Do you, gentlemen, lie behind a little, while I and my men ride forward. We will call for drink, and while we are busy with our tankards at the inn-door you will ride up and presently begin to soundly rate the landlord for falsely directing you the other day. After which leave matters to me.”
Acting upon this advice, we let Captain Trevor and his men ride on until they came to the
