The Song of the Siren

“Come on.” Others had come into the room.

“What’s this?” said one.

“Our floor neighbour,” said Hessenfield. “Come on. Get the General out. Carry him carefully. And be quiet, for God’s sake be quiet.”

He pulled me to one side and two of the men came forward. Carefully they lifted the General. He groaned. I watched wide eyed and silent while they carried him from the room.

Hessenfield was still holding my arm.

“Come on,” he said.

I was forced along the landing. At the door of my room we paused and he flung open the door. “Nothing must be left behind,” he said.

“There is nothing. What are you doing?”

“Silence,” he hissed. “Do what I say or that will be the end of you.”

The clear morning air filled my lungs and I began to think clearly. What was General Langdon doing with these men? The last I had heard of him he had been a prisoner in the Tower.

There was no time to think. I was being hustled to the stables.

One of the men mounted a horse and the General was put on with him.

I was set on a big black horse and Hessenfield bounded up beside me.

”Don’t leave her horse behind,” he said. “We’ll have to bring it with us. Ready.”

Then we were riding through the dawn.

I shall never forget that ride. I tried to talk but he would not answer. They let my horse go free when we had gone some five miles. He was an encumbrance. Then we went on.

It was no use trying to protest. I was held fast against my captor. I knew that I was in imminent danger; that the reason this man had been so angry to find me on that floor was because he had something of great importance to hide. I knew what it was now. It was the presence of General Langdon.

My thoughts started to form into some sort of order.

General Langdon had come to Eversleigh, trying to recruit men to the Jacobite cause.

He wanted to raise them against the present King and bring James back to the throne.

Then he had been discovered and sent to the Tower. Now here he was-obviously very ill, but free.

It must have been about midday when we came to a wood. We rode into this and pulled up for a while. They evidently knew where we were and had been making for this spot.

“There was a stream where the tired horses were able to drink. The General was laid on a blanket and one of the men brought out some bread and bacon with a flask of ale.

“So far so good,” said Hessenfield.

He looked at me sardonically, I thought.

“I am sorry we have to inconvenience you like this, Mistress Main. But you do realise, do you not, that you have inconvenienced us far more.”

“What is all this about?” I demanded, trying to hide my fear with a show of bravado.

“Dear lady, it is not for you to ask the questions. From you-if you value your life-we expect blind obedience.”

“Don’t dally with the wench,” said the man who had been ready to kill me. “This would be a good spot to be rid of her.”

“Do not be so impatient, my dear fellow. We have one purpose ahead of us. All that matters is that we fulfil it.”

“She’s a danger.”

“A small danger which we do not want to turn into a big one.”

”I see that you have other plans for her. We expect that of you, Hessenfield.”

Hessenfield suddenly struck out and the man was lying on the grass.

“Just a little reminder, Jack,” he said, “that I give the orders. Never fear, I shall see that we are not betrayed. The lady shall be dealt with ... but when dealing with her can bring no trouble to us.” He turned to me. “You must be tired. We have ridden far. Sit down ... here.”

I moved away and he caught my arm.

“I said, sit here,” he told me, raising his eyebrows. His eyes were twinkling but his mouth was cruel. I was aware of the sword he wore at his waist. I shrugged my shoulders and sat down.

He sat beside me. “I am glad you are sensible,” he said. “Good sense is a great ally.

And you need all the allies you can muster, Mistress Main. You are in a somewhat dangerous position. You understand?”

“What are you doing with General Langdon?”

“Saving his life. Is that not a commendable thing to do?” | “But he ... he is the King’s prisoner.”

“He was,” said Hessenfield.

“You mean ...?”

“I told you, Mistress Main, that it is not for you to ask the I questions. Do as I tell you and who knows, you might save your skin.”

I was silent. He stood up and moved off. Then he came back with some bread and bacon for me. I turned my head away.

“Take it!” he thundered.

So I took it.

“And eat it,” he said.

“I do not wish to eat it.”

“But you will eat it all the same.”

He stood there, legs astride, looking down at me. I ate a little of the bread and bacon. Then he came back with a flask of ale. He threw himself down beside me and offered me the flask. I drank a little. He smiled and put it to his lips. “We shall share the flask,” he said. “One “night say it is a loving cup.”

Then I was conscious of a tingling fear because there was that in I his eyes which I understood. I thought of what one of the others had said: “You have other plans for her. We expect that of you, Hessenfield.”