"Bah! promise to love me."
"No; because it would be sinful to make such a promise. Urso himself would say so."
"Urso again! – confound him! I must find means to free you from this tie – even if I sever it with my sword."
"That won't make me love you – rather hate you. But you must really go. Pray do not quarrel with Urso."
"If he stops me, I shall assuredly chastise him. Adieu, sweetheart! Expect me at the same hour to-morrow?"
"No, no – you must not come – indeed, you must not."
But she seemed so little in earnest, that Careless construed her prohibition in the opposite sense, and believed she wished him to come.
As he went forth, Angel-lane – a narrow street running nearly parallel with the walls on the north of the city, in the direction of All Hallows – appeared quite deserted, and he thought that Urso Gives was gone. But he had scarcely reached the church, when a tall figure stepped from behind a buttress and barred his path.
"Out of my way, fellow!" he cried, haughtily, feeling sure it was Urso.
"Not till I have spoken with you," rejoined the other, maintaining his ground.
The Independent then continued, in a stern, menacing voice, "On the peril of your life, I forbid you to re-enter the house you have just profaned by your presence. You have beguiled the damsel who dwells there by your false speeches, and have sought to corrupt her. You cannot feign ignorance that she is my affianced wife, for I myself heard her tell you so."
"Since you have been playing the spy, you might easily have learnt that I am coming again to-morrow night at the same hour," rejoined Careless, in a mocking tone.
"Think it not," rejoined Urso, fiercely. "Since you will not be deterred from your evil courses by the warning given you, look to yourself!"
And suddenly drawing forth the long tuck-sword which he held under his cloak, he placed its point at the other's breast.
Careless sprang back and so saved his life, and drawing his own sword, their blades were instantly crossed.
Notwithstanding his eminently peaceful vocation, Urso proved no contemptible swordsman, and Careless failed to disarm him as soon as he expected. The clash of steel roused the inmates of the houses, and some of them opened their doors, but when they perceived that an officer of rank was engaged with a Roundhead they did not interfere.
Mary Rushout, however, came forth, screaming with terror, and reached the combatants just as Careless, having knocked Urso's weapon from his grasp, seized him by the throat, and forced him down upon his knees, exclaiming:
"Sue for mercy, caitiff hound, or I will despatch thee!"
"Spare him, gentle sir! – spare him!" cried Mary, seizing the Cavalier's arm.
"He owes his worthless life to your intercession, sweet Mary," cried Careless, spurning Urso from him. "If he is not sufficiently grateful for the obligation, let me know, and I will sharpen his gratitude. Adieu, till to-morrow!"
And sheathing his sword, he strode away.
Quite crestfallen at his discomfiture, and eager to escape from the jeers of the neighbours who had come forth, Urso picked up his tuck-sword and hurried back to the house with Mary.
What passed between them need not be recounted. It will be sufficient to state the result.
Not till the second evening after the occurrence just described, did Careless return to Angel lane. His duties to the king had detained him in the interval.
After tapping softly at the door of Mary's dwelling, he raised the latch, but the door was fastened, and he was compelled to knock more loudly. Still, no answer to the summons. He listened intently, but not the slightest sound was to be heard within; neither was any light visible through the little lattice window.
While he was making another ineffectual attempt to obtain admittance, a glover, who lived next door, came forth and told him that Dame Rushout and Mary were gone.
"Gone! whither?" cried Careless.
"That is more than I am able to inform your honour," replied the glover; "but you are not likely to see Mary again, since Master Gives has taken her way."
"'Sdeath! did she consent to go with him?"
"She could not very well refuse, seeing that she has become his wife," responded the glover.
"Amazement!" cried Careless. "I could not have believed she would wed him."
"No one expected it, though the marriage has been long talked of," said the glover. "But we think her grandam must have wrought upon Mary to consent – for she herself seemed wondrously reluctant. Be this as it may, and I cannot speak for certain, she and Urso were married by the Rev. Laban Foxe, an Independent minister, and soon after the ceremony – if ceremony it can be called – Urso and his bride, with the old dame, quitted Worcester."
Careless had heard enough, and strode away to hide his vexation.
CHAPTER XIII.
SHOWING HOW THE KING HAD FORTIFIED THE CITY
The fortifications of Worcester having now been completely repaired and considerably extended by Charles, it may be necessary to take another survey of them.5
On the south, the city was provided with a double enceinte – Sidbury-gate and the Commandery being completely enclosed by the newly raised lines. On the south-east, the outer fence extended from Fort Royal almost to Friars'-gate. On the other side, the new line of fortifications ran towards the Severn, covering the Moat, and the strong old wall behind it – a boundary wall built by a prior of the Convent of St. Mary early in the thirteenth century – and forming an outer defence to the Castle Mound, with which it was connected. The Castle Hill, as we have already had occasion to remark, was strongly fortified, and had become almost as formidable as Fort Royal itself, with which it was now linked by the new line of fortifications. These new fortifications were necessarily not very strong, but they answered their purpose. In the fields opposite Friar's-gate, and facing Perry Wood, stood an old blockhouse, which had more than once fallen into the hands of the former besiegers of the city. Dismantled by Colonel James, the Blockhouse had now been put into repair, and was garrisoned and provided with ammunition, its commander being Colonel Blague, on whose courage and fidelity Charles could perfectly rely. The district in which the old fortress stood is still known as the "Blockhouse Fields." Right and left of St. Martin's-gate, which looked towards King's Hill, as the acclivity was naturally enough designated after Charles's encampment upon it, a new bastion had been constructed. Two more bastions strengthened the northern ramparts, and at the north-west angle of the walls, not far from St. Clement's Church, removed in later times, stood a strong fort, the guns of which commanded the bridge. The tower in the centre of the bridge was well armed and well manned, as was the fort at the western extremity of the bridge. Proceeding along Tybridge-street to Cripplegate, the scene of many a former conflict in the days of Sir John Biron and Governor Washington, and of wild Will Hodgkins's mad exploits, we come to St. John's, where General Dalyells's brigade was quartered – all the approaches to this out-work being as strongly barricaded, as when the dangerous suburb formed a Leaguer for the Parliamentarians in 1646.
From the foregoing hasty survey, it will be seen that the city was now in a thorough state of defence, and was especially strong on the south and south-east. Owing to the active zeal and forethought of the mayor and the sheriff, it was abundantly provisioned and well stored with forage.
On the enemy's approach, as a precautionary measure, it was resolved by the council of war to burn all the suburbs on the north and east – a determination that inspired great terror, since Foregate-street contained a large number of inhabitants, and Lawrence-lane, leading from Friars'-gate to the Blockhouse was also a populous district.
Fort Royal now mounted some large ordnance, and was regarded by its defenders as impregnable. Including the fortifications, it contained upwards of fifteen hundred men, among whom were the most skilful engineers