Roger Willoughby | Page 6

out on the matter, and generally ended with a laugh, each asserting that
he had the beat of the argument. Stephen, if not a bigoted Puritan, was
a strong Protestant, and never failed to express his dread of the
consequences should James come to the throne.
Stephen Battiscombe was the second son of Mr Battiscombe of
Langton Park, who had several other sons and daughters. He had been
an officer in General Monk's army, and had consequently retained his
paternal estates, although he had been compelled to part with some of
his broad acres in order to secure the remainder. Stephen had been for
the last year or two a constant visitor at Eversden, he and Roger having
formed a friendship; it may be that he came oftener than he otherwise
might have done for the sake of enjoying the society of Mistress Alice,
whom he greatly admired.
The early dinner being concluded, and the viands removed, the ladies

retired to pursue their usual avocations, while the Colonel, with Mr
Willoughby and Master Holden, sat still at the table, not so much to
indulge in potations, though a flagon of wine and glasses stood before
them, as to discuss certain parochial questions in which they were
interested.
The first matter to be discussed had scarcely been broached when the
Colonel, whose quick ears had detected the sound of horses' hoofs in
the court-yard, exclaimed, "Hark! here come visitors. I pray you,
Master Holden, go and see who they are, and, should they have
travelled far, and require food, bid the cook make ready a sufficiency;
whether they be old friends or strangers, we must not show a want of
hospitality if they come expecting to find it at Eversden." The curate,
ever accustomed to obey his patron's directions, rose and hastened to
the door. Not long after he had gone, Tobias Platt, the Colonel's
serving-man, who performed the duties of butler, valet, and general
factotum, entered the hall.
"Master Thomas Handscombe, cloth-merchant of London, who has just
come down from thence, craves to see Mr Roger Willoughby," he said.
"Do you know him?" asked the Colonel of his brother-in-law.
"Yes, an old and worthy friend," answered Mr Willoughby, rising from
his seat.
"Let him be admitted, and assure him of a welcome," said the Colonel,
turning to Tobias Platt, who hurried out of the hall, while Mr
Willoughby followed him somewhat more leisurely. He found his old
friend, a middle-aged man of grave exterior, in travel-stained cloak,
broad-brimmed beaver, just dismounting from a strongly-built nag, to
whose saddle were attached a pair of huge holsters in front, and a valise
behind. He was accompanied by two attendants, each of whose animals
carried considerably heavier burdens, apparently merchandise, more or
less of cloth and other articles, firmly secured by leathern straps.
"I am glad to see you again, Master Handscombe," exclaimed Mr
Willoughby, warmly pressing the hand of his old friend; "although I am

no longer master of this mansion, I can bid you welcome, for my good
brother-in-law, Colonel Tregellen, desires that all my friends should be
his friends; but you will remember that he is an old Cavalier, and that
there are certain subjects it were better not to touch on."
"I mix too much with all classes of men not to be on my guard,"
answered the merchant, as he accompanied Mr Willoughby into the
house, when Tobias Platt came forward to take his dusty cloak and
beaver, and then followed Mr Willoughby into the hall, where the
Colonel received him as his brother-in-law's friend.
"You will be glad to shake off more of the dust of your journey while a
repast is preparing," observed the Colonel. "The servant will provide
you with water and other necessaries."
The guest gladly accepted the offer. Mr Willoughby himself
accompanied him to the room, that they might have an opportunity of
conversing in private, which they might not afterwards obtain. Madam
Pauline and Alice, on hearing from Master Holden of the arrival of a
stranger from London, returned to the hall, where all the party were
soon again assembled. Master Handscombe, though a man of grave
deportment, had no objection to hear himself speak.
"When did you leave London?" was one of the first questions very
naturally put by the Colonel to his guest.
"Just seven days ago, good sir," answered Mr Handscombe. "Having
sent all my goods with my two servant-men by the stage-wagon, I took
my place by the light coach which now runs from London to the West.
There were six of us inside, who, till the moment we met, were not
aware of each other's existence, though, before we parted, we had
become as intimate as a litter of puppies. Pretty close stowing it was
too--yet, considering the jolting,