In the Wars of the Roses | Page 9

for the
task he had set himself. He knew his peril-he realized it too; but he was
a soldier's son, and had he not said he would live and die for the prince?
Would he ever be worthy of the knighthood every lad looked forward
to as the goal of his ambition, if he shrank now from the task he had set
himself?
Hardly had that resolution been taken before there sprang out from the
thick underwood two or three fierce-looking men, armed to the teeth.
"Ha, my young springal! well met, in sooth," cried the foremost of the
band, laying a firm hand upon the boy's shoulder. "We have been
looking long for you.
"To horse, brave fellows! we have our prize. We may not linger here."

"Hands off, varlet!" cried Paul, throwing himself into the character of
prince with great energy and goodwill. "Know you to whom you
speak--whom ye thus rough handle? Have a care; the Prince of Wales is
not thus to be treated."
"Pardon, sweet prince," cried the leader, with ironical courtesy, his
grasp not relaxing one whit from the boy's arm. "Time leaves us scant
opportunity for the smooth speech of the court. We must use all
despatch in conveying your worshipful presence hence, to the safe
custody of England's friends.
"Nay, struggle not, boy. We would not harm you. You are safe with
us--"
"I know you not. I will not be thus insulted. I will to my royal parents,"
cried Paul in well-feigned indignation.
But remonstrance and resistance were alike useless. At the sound of a
peculiar whistle from one of the party, there immediately appeared
some half score of mounted troopers, leading other horses with them.
The boy was swung upon the saddle of one of the horses and fastened
there by means of thongs, which, although not incommoding him
whilst riding, utterly precluded all idea of escape. Moreover the steed
was placed between those of two of the stalwart troopers, each of
whom kept a hand upon the reins of the supposed prince; and thus,
silently but rapidly, the little band threaded the intricacies of the wood,
by paths evidently known to them, and ere the dusk had fully come,
had cleared the forest altogether, and were galloping steadily and fast
across the open country toward the north.
Paul had not spoken another word. He had been in terror lest by some
inadvertent phrase he might betray himself, and let those fierce men
know that he was not the prince; in which case not only might his own
life be forfeit, but the real prince might fall into their hands. But now as
the dusk overtook them, and still they were flying farther and farther
away from the city where the prince lay, his heart rose, and beat with a
generous triumph; for though his own fate might be a speedy death, the
heir of England was safe.
It was dark before the lights of a wayside hostelry became visible
across the dreary waste they were traversing. The leader of the band
turned and addressed a few words to the troopers who had the care of
the captive; and at once he felt himself deprived of the tell-tale cap and

collar, the former of which was replaced by a cloth cap belonging to
one of the men, which almost concealed the boy's features. He was also
wrapped in a mantle that further disguised him; and thus they rode up
to the inn.
A ruddy stream of light poured out from that comfortable hostelry, and
Paul saw, seated on his stout nag, with three of his servants behind him,
the well-known figure of a neighbouring farmer, whom business often
took to a town many miles from his native place.
The troopers were dismounting and hurrying into the inn. Two only
remained with their prize. Paul's resolution was quickly taken. He
threw off the encumbering mantle and cap, and cried aloud:
"Gaffer Hood, Gaffer Hood, come and help me! These men have
carried me off, and are taking me I know not whither. Come and help
me to get free, and my father will richly reward you. They think I am
the Prince of Wales, who was playing with me but this afternoon. Tell
them who I really am, and they will let me go."
"By the mass, if that be not the voice of little Paul Stukely!" exclaimed
the honest farmer in great amazement, as he brought his stout nag
alongside the animal that carried the child. The troopers drew their
swords as if to interpose (and in those days it was considered better to
leave these reckless gentlemen alone when they had booty in their
hands, however come by, and no doubt they were in league with the
host of the inn);