Page 56 - A Jacobite Exile

He was longing to be doing something. It seemed intolerable to him that he
should be wandering aimlessly among the hills, while his father was lying

in Lancaster, with a charge affecting his life hanging over him. What he
could do he knew not, but anything would be better than doing nothing. Mr.

Jervoise had seemed to think that it was out of the question to attempt a
rescue from Lancaster; but surely, if he could get together forty or fifty
determined fellows, a sudden assault upon the place might be successful.

Then he set to work reckoning up the grooms, the younger tenants, and the

sons of the older ones, and jotted down the names of twenty-seven who he
thought might join in the attempt.

"If Harry could get twenty-three from his people, that would make it up to
the number," he said. "Of course, I don't know what the difficulties to be

encountered may be. I have ridden there with my father, and I know that the
castle is a strong one, but I did not notice it very particularly. The first thing
to do will be to go and examine it closely. No doubt ladders will be

required, but we could make rope ladders, and take them into the town in a
cart, hidden under faggots, or something of that sort.

"I do hope Mr. Jervoise will come tomorrow. It is horrible waiting here in
suspense."

The next morning, the hours seemed endless. Half a dozen times he went

restlessly in and out, walking a little distance up the hill rising from the
valley, and returning again, with the vain idea that Mr. Jervoise might have
arrived.

Still more slowly did the time appear to go, after dinner. He was getting

into a fever of impatience and anxiety, when, about five o'clock, he saw a
figure coming down the hillside from the right. It was too far away to
recognize with certainty, but, by the rapid pace at which he descended the

hill, he had little doubt that it was Harry, and he at once started, at the top
of his speed, to meet him.