The Manchester Rebels by William H. Ainsworth

Having distanced his pursuers as related, Atherton speeded across the country till he reached Bucklow Hill, where a solitary roadside inn was then to be found, and thinking he should be safe there, he resolved to stop at the house for the night.

Accordingly, he roused up the host and soon procured accommodation for himself and his steed.

The chamber in which he was lodged was small, with a low ceiling, encumbered by a large rafter, but it was scrupulously clean and tidy, and the bed-linen was white as snow, and smelt of lavender.

Next morning, he was up betimes, and his first business was to hire a man to take back Mr. Fowden's horse. The ostler readily undertook the job, and set out for Manchester, charged with a letter of explanation, while Atherton, having breakfasted and paid his score, proceeded on foot along the road to Knutsford.

Before leaving the inn he informed the landlord that he was going to Northwich, and thence to Chester; but, in reality, he had no fixed plan, and meant to be guided by circumstances. If the risk had not been so great, he would gladly have availed himself of Dr. Byrom's offer, conveyed by Beppy to Constance, of a temporary asylum in the doctor's house at Manchester -- but he did not dare to venture thither.

After revolving several plans, all of which were fraught with difficulties and dangers, he came to the conclusion that it would be best to proceed to London, where he would be safer than elsewhere, and might possibly find an opportunity of embarking for Flanders or Holland. Moreover, he might be able to render some assistance to his unfortunate friends. But, as we have said, he had no decided plans; and it is quite certain that nothing but the apprehension of further treachery on the part of Father Jerome prevented him from secretly returning to Rawcliffe Hall.

He walked on briskly for about a mile, and then struck into a path on the left, which he thought would lead him through the fields to Tatton Park, but it brought him to a height from which he obtained a charming view of Rosthern Mere -- the whole expanse of this lovely lake being spread out before him. On the summit of a high bank, at the southern extremity of the mere, stood the ancient church, embosomed in trees, and near it were the few scattered farm-houses and cottages that constituted the village.

The morning being very bright and clear, the prospect was seen to the greatest advantage, and, after contemplating it for a few minutes, he descended the woody slopes, and on reaching the valley shaped his course along the margin of the lake towards the village, which was not very far distant.

As he proceeded fresh beauties were disclosed, and he more than once stopped to gaze at them. Presently he drew near a delightful spot, where a babbling brook, issuing from the mere, crossed the road, and disappeared amid an adjoining grove. Leaning against the rail of a little wooden bridge, and listening to the murmuring brooklet, stood an elderly personage. His features were stamped with melancholy, and his general appearance seemed much changed, but Atherton at once recognised Dr. Deacon.

Surprised at seeing him there, the young man hastened on, and as he advanced the doctor raised his head and looked at him.

After a moment's scrutiny, he exclaimed:

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is it Atherton Legh? " And when the other replied in the affirmative, he said: "What are you doing here? Are you aware that a reward has been offered for your apprehension? You are running into danger."

"I have just had a very narrow escape of arrest," replied Atherton; "and am in search of a place of concealment. If I could be safe anywhere, I should think it must be in this secluded village."

"I will give you temporary shelter," said the doctor. "I have been so persecuted in Manchester since the prince's retreat, and the surrender of Carlisle, that I have been compelled to retire to this quiet place. Come with me to my cottage -- but I cannot answer for your safety."

"I would willingly accept the offer if I did not fear I should endanger you," replied Atherton.

"Let not that consideration deter you," said Dr. Deacon. "It matters little what happens to me now that I have lost my sons."

"You need not despair about them, sir," rejoined Atherton. "They will be allowed the cartel."

"No -- no -- no," cried the doctor. "They will be put to death. I ought to be resigned to their cruel fate, since they have done their duty, but I have not the fortitude I deemed I had."

And he groaned aloud.

"Better and braver young men never lived," said Atherton, in accents of deep commiseration. "And if they must die, they will perish in a noble cause. But I still hope they may be spared."