The Splendid Spur

  CHAPTER IX.

  I BREAK OUT OF PRISON.

  You are now to be ask'd to pass over the next four weeks in as manyminutes: as would I had done at the time! For I spent them in a bittercold cell in the main tower of Bristol keep, with a chair and a palletof straw for all my furniture, and nothing to stay my fast but the breadand water that the jailer--a sour man, if ever there were one--broughtme twice a day.

  This keep lies in the northwest corner of the outer ward of thecastle--a mighty tall pile and strongly built, the walls (as the jailertold me) being a full twenty-five feet thick near the foundations, tho'by time you ascended to the towers this thickness had dwindled to sixfeet and no more. In shape 'twas a quadrilateral, a little shorter fromnorth to south than from east to west (in which latter direction itmeasured sixty feet, about), and had four towers standing at the fourcorners, whereof mine was five fathoms higher than the rest.

  Guess, then, how little I thought of escape, having but one window, ahundred feet (I do believe) above the ground, and that so narrow that,even without the iron bar across it, 'twould barely let my shoulderspass. What concern'd me more was the cold that gnaw'd me continuallythese winter nights, as I lay thinking of Delia (whom I had not seensince our examination), or gazing out on the patch of frosty heaventhat was all my view. 'Twas thus I had heard Bristol bells ringing forChristmas in the town below.

  Colonel Essex had been thrice to visit me, and always offer'd manyexcuses for my treatment; but when he came to question me, why of courseI had nothing to tell, so that each visit but served to vex him more.Clearly I was suspected to know a great deal beyond what appear'd inthe letter: and no doubt poor Anthony Killigrew had receiv'd some verbalmessage from His Majesty which he lived not long enough to transmit tome. As 'twas, I kept silence; and the Colonel in return would tell menothing of what had befallen Delia.

  One fine, frosty morning, then, when I had lain in this distress justfour weeks, the door of my cell open'd, and there appear'd a youngwoman, not uncomely, bringing in my bread and water. She was thejailer's daughter, and wore a heavy bunch of keys at her girdle.

  "Oh, good morning!" said I: for till now her father only had visited me,and this was a welcome change.

  Instead of answering cheerfully (as I look'd for), she gave a little nodof the head, rather sorrowful, and answered:--

  "Father's abed with the ague."

  "Now you cannot expect me to be sorry."

  "Nay," she said; and I caught her looking at me with something likecompassion in her blue eyes, which mov'd me to cry out suddenly---

  "I think you are woman enough to like a pair of lovers."

  "Oh, aye: but where's t'other half of the pair?"

  "You're right. The young gentlewoman that was brought hither with me--Iknow not if she loves me: but this I do know--I would give my hand tolearn her whereabouts, and how she fares."

  "Better eat thy loaf," put in the girl very suddenly, setting down theplate and pitcher.

  'Twas odd, but I seem'd to hear a sob in her voice. However, her backwas toward me as I glanc'd up. And next moment she was gone, locking theiron door behind her.

  I turn'd from my breakfast with a sigh, having for the moment tastedthe hope to hear something of Delia. But in a while, feeling hungry, Ipick'd up the loaf beside me, and broke it in two.

  To my amaze, out dropp'd something that jingled on the stone floor.

  'Twas a small file: and examining the loaf again, I found a clasp-knifealso, and a strip of paper, neatly folded, hidden in the bread.

  "Deare Jack,

  "Colonel Essex, finding no good come of his interrogatories, hath set meat large; tho' I continue under his eye, to wit, with a dowager of hisacquaintance, a Mistress Finch. Wee dwell in a private house midway downSt. Thomas his street, in Redcliffe: and she hath put a dismal dressupon me (Jack, 'tis _hideous_), but otherwise uses me not ill. But takecare of thyself, my deare friend: for tho' the Colonel be a gentilman,he is press'd by them about him, and at our last interview I noted amischief in his eye. Canst use this file?--(but take care: all thegates I saw guarded with troopers to-day.) This by one who hath beenmy friend: for whose sake tear the paper up. And beleeve your cordial,loving comrade

  "D. K."

  After reading this a dozen times, till I had it by heart, I tore theletter into small pieces and hid them in my pocket. This done, I feltlighter-hearted than for many a day, and (rather for employment thanwith any farther view) began lazily to rub away at my window bar. Thefile work'd well. By noon the bar was half sever'd, and I broke off towhistle a tune. 'Twas---

  "Vivre en tout cas, C'est le grand soulas--"

  and I broke off to hear the key turning in my lock.

  The jailer's daughter enter'd with my second meal. Her eyes were redwith weeping.

  Said I, "Does your father beat you?"

  "He has, before now," she replied: "but not to-day."

  "Then why do you weep?"

  "Not for that."

  "For what then?"

  "For you--oh, dear, dear! How shall I tell it? They are going to--to---"She sat down on the chair, and sobb'd in her apron.

  "What is't they are going to do?"

  "To--to--h-hang you."

  "The devil! When?"

  "Tut-tut-to-morrow mo-horning!"

  I went suddenly very cold all over. There was silence for a moment, andthen I heard the noise of some one dropping a plank in the courtyardbelow.

  "What's that?"

  "The gug-gug---"

  "Gallows?"

  She nodded.

  "You are but a weak girl," said I, meditating.

  "Aye: but there's a dozen troopers on the landing below."

  "Then, my dear, you must lock me up," I decided gloomily, and fell towhistling----

  "Vivre en tout cas, C'est le grand soulas--"

  A workman's hammer in the court below chim'd in, beating out the tune,and driving the moral home. I heard a low sob behind me. The jailer'sdaughter was going.

  "Lend me your bodkin, my dear, for a memento."

  She pull'd it out and gave it to me.

  "Thank you, and now good-bye! Stop: here's a kiss to take to my dearmistress. They shan't hang me, my dear."

  The girl went out, sobbing, and lock'd the door after her.

  I sat down for a while, feeling doleful. For I found myself extremelyyoung to be hang'd. But soon the _whang--whang!_ of the hammer belowrous'd me. "Come," I thought, "I'll see what that rascal is doing, atany rate," and pulling the file from my pocket, began to attack thewindow bar with a will. I had no need for silence, at this great heightabove the ground: and besides, the hammering continued lustily.

  Daylight was closing as I finish'd my task and, pulling the two piecesof the bar aside, thrust my head out at the window.

  Directly under me, and about twenty feet from the ground, I saw a beamprojecting, about six feet long, over a sort of doorway in the wall.Under this beam, on a ladder, was a carpenter fellow at work, fortifyingit with two supporting timbers that rested on the sill of the doorway.He was merry enough over the job, and paused every now and again tofling a remark to a little group of soldiers that stood idling below,where the fellow's workbag and a great coil of rope rested by theladder's foot.

  "Reckon, Sammy," said one, pulling a long tobacco pipe from his mouthand spitting, "'tis a long while since thy last job o' the sort."

  "Aye, lad: terrible disrepair this place has fall'n into. But send us acheerful heart, say I! Instead o' the viper an' owl, shall henceforwardbe hangings of men an' all manner o' diversion."

  I kept my head out of sight and listen'd.

  "What time doth 'a swing?" ask'd another of the soldiers.

  "I heard the Colonel give orders for nine o'clock to-morrow," answer'dthe first soldier, spitting again.

  The clock over the barbican struck four: and in a minute was beinganswer'd from tower after tower, down in the city.

  "Four o'clock!" cried the man on the ladder: "time
to stop work, andhere goes for the last nail!" He drove it in and prepar'd to descend.

  "Hi!" shouted a soldier, "you've forgot the rope."

  "That'll wait till to-morrow. There's a staple to drive in, too. I tellyou I'm dry, and want my beer."

  He whipp'd his apron round his waist, and gathering up his nails,went down the ladder. At the foot he pick'd up his bag, shoulder'dthe ladder, and loung'd away, leaving the coil of rope lying there.Presently the soldiers saunter'd off also, and the court was empty.

  Now up to this moment I had but one idea of avoiding my fate, and thatwas to kill myself. 'Twas to this end I had borrow'd the bodkin of themaid. Afterward I had a notion of flinging myself from the window asthey came for me. But now, as I look'd down on that coil of rope lyingdirectly below, a prettier scheme struck me. I sat down on the floor ofmy cell and pull'd off my boots and stockings.

  'Twas such a pretty plan that I got into a fever of impatience. Drawingoff a stocking and picking out the end of the yarn, I began to unravelthe knitting for dear life, until the whole lay, a heap of thread, onthe floor. I then serv'd the other in the same way: and at the end hadtwo lines, each pretty near four hundred yards in length: which now Idivided into eight lines of about a hundred yards each.

  With these I set to work, and by the end of twenty minutes had plaiteda rope--if rope, indeed, it could be called--weak to be sure, but longenough to reach the ground with plenty to spare. Then, having bent mybodkin to the form of a hook, I tied it to the end of my cord, weightedit with a crown from my pocket, and clamber'd up to the window. I wasgoing to angle for the hangman's rope.

  'Twas near dark by this; but I could just distinguish it on the pavingstones below, and looking about the court, saw that no one was astir.I wriggled first my head, then a shoulder, through the opening, and letthe line run gently through my hand. There was still many yards left,that could be paid out, when I heard my coin tinkle softly on thepavement.

  Then began my difficulty. A dozen times I pull'd my hook across the coilbefore it hitch'd; and then a full three score of times the rope slippedaway before I had rais'd it a dozen yards. My elbow was raw, almost,with leaning on the sill, and I began to lose heart and head, when, tomy delight, the bodkin caught and held. It had fasten'd on a kink inthe rope, not far from the end. I began to pull up, hand over hand,trembling all the while like a leaf.

  For I had two very reasonable fears. First, the rope might slip away andtumble before it reach'd my grasp. Secondly, it might, after all, provea deal too short. It had look'd to me a new rope of many fathoms, notyet cut for to-morrow's purpose; but eyesight might well deceive at thatdistance, and surely enough I saw that the whole was dangling off theground long before it came to my hand.

  But at last I caught it, and slipping back into the room, pull'd itafter me, yard upon yard. My heart went loud and fast. There was nothingto fasten it to but an iron staple in the door, that meant losing thewidth of my cell, some six feet. This, however, must be risk'd, and Imade the end fast, lower'd the other out of window again, and climbingto a sitting posture on the window sill, thrust out my legs over thegulf.

  Thankful was I that darkness had fallen before this, and hidden thegiddy depths below me. I gripp'd the rope and push'd myself inch byinch through the window, and out over the ledge. For a moment I dangled,without courage to move a hand. Then, wreathing my legs round the rope,I loosed my left hand, and caught with it again some six inches lower.And so, down I went.

  Minute follow'd minute, and left me still descending, six inches at atime, and looking neither above nor below, but always at the grey wallthat seem'd sliding up in front of me. The first dizziness was over, buta horrible aching of the arms had taken the place of it. 'Twas growingintolerable, when suddenly my legs, that sought to close round the rope,found space only. I had come to the end.

  I look'd down. A yard below my feet the beam of the gallows gleam'dpalely out of the darkness. Here was my chance. I let my hands slip downthe last foot or so of rope, hung for a moment, then dropp'd for thebeam.

  My feet miss'd it, as I intended they should; but I flung both arms outand caught it, bringing myself up with a jerk. While yet I hung clawing,I heard a footstep coming through the gateway between the two wards.

  Here was a fix. With all speed and silence I drew myself up to the beam,found a hold with one knee upon it, got astride, and lay down at length,flattening my body down against the timber. Yet all the while I feltsure I must have been heard.

  The footsteps drew nearer, and pass'd almost under the gallows. 'Twas anofficer, for, as he pass'd, he called out---

  "Sergeant Downs! Sergeant Downs!"

  A voice from the guardroom in the barbican answer'd him through thedarkness.

  "Why is not the watch set?"

  "In a minute, sir: it wants a minute to six."

  "I thought the Colonel order'd it at half past five?"

  In the silence that follow'd, the barbican clock began to strike, andhalf a dozen troopers tumbled out from the guardroom, some laughing,some grumbling at the coldness of the night. The officer return'd to theinner ward as they dispersed to their posts: and soon there was silenceagain, save for the _tramp-tramp_ of a sentry crossing and recrossingthe pavement below me.

  All this while I lay flatten'd along the beam, scarce daring to breathe.But at length, when the man had pass'd below for the sixth time, Ifound heart to wriggle myself toward the doorway over which the gallowsprotruded. By slow degrees, and pausing whenever the fellow drew near,I crept close up to the wall: then, waiting the proper moment, cast mylegs over, dangled for a second or two swinging myself toward the sill,flung myself off, and, touching the ledge with one toe, pitch'd forwardin the room.

  The effect of this was to give me a sound crack as I struck theflooring, which lay about a foot below the level of the sill. I pick'dmyself up and listen'd. Outside, the regular tramp of the sentry prov'dhe had not heard me; and I drew a long breath, for I knew that without alantern he would never spy, in the darkness, the telltale rope danglingfrom the tower.

  In the room where I stood all was right. But the flooring was uneven tothe foot, and scatter'd with small pieces of masonry. 'Twas one of themany chambers in the castle that had dropp'd into disrepair. Groping myway with both hands, and barking my shins on the loose stones, I founda low vaulted passage that led me into a second chamber, empty as thefirst. To my delight, the door of this was ajar, with a glimmer of lightslanting through the crack. I made straight toward it, and pull'd thedoor softly. It open'd, and show'd a lantern dimly burning, and thestaircase of the keep winding past me, up into darkness.

  My chance was, of course, to descend: which I did on tiptoe, hearing nosound. The stairs twisted down and down, and ended by a stout door withanother lamp shining above it. After listening a moment I decided to bebold, and lifted the latch. A faint cry saluted me.

  I stood face to face with the jailer's daughter.

  The room was a small one, well lit, and lin'd about the walls with cupsand bottles. 'Twas, as I guess'd, a taproom for the soldiers: and thegirl had been scouring one of the pewter mugs when my entrance startledher. She stood up, white as if painted, and gasp'd--

  "Quick--quick! Down here behind the counter for your life!"

  There was scarce time to drop on my knees before a couple of troopersloung'd in, demanding mull'd beer. The girl bustled about to serve them,while the pair lean'd their elbows on the counter, and in this easyattitude began to chat.

  "A shrewd night!"

  "Aye, a very freezing frost! Lucky that soldiering is not all sentrywork, or I for one 'ud ensue my natural trade o' plumbing. But let's becheerful: for the voice o' the turtle is heard i' the land."

  "Hey?"

  The man took a pull at his hot beer before explaining.

  "The turtle signifieth the Earl o' Stamford, that is to-night visitingColonel Essex in secret: an' this is the import--war, bloody war. Markme."

  "Stirring, striving times!"

  "You may say so! '
A hath fifteen thousand men, the Earl, no farther offthan Taunton--why, my dear, how pale you look, to be sure!"

  "'Tis my head that aches," answer'd the girl.

  The men finish'd their drink, and saunter'd out. I crept from under thecounter, and look'd at her.

  "Father'll kill me for this!"

  "Then you shall say--Is it forward or back I must go?"

  "Neither." She pull'd up a trap close beside her feet, and pointed out aladder leading down to the darkness. "The courts are full of troopers,"she added.

  "The cellar?"

  She nodded.

  "Quick! There's a door at the far end. It leads to the crypt of St.John's Chapel. You'll find the key beside it, and a lantern. Here isflint and steel." She reach'd them down from a shelf beside her. "Crouchdown, or they'll spy you through the window. From the crypt a passagetakes you to the governor's house. How to escape then, God knows! 'Tisthe best I can think on."

  I thank'd her, and began to step down the ladder. She stood for a momentto watch, leaving the trap open for better light. Between the avenue ofcasks and bins I stumbled toward the door and lantern that were just tobe discern'd at the far end of the cellar. As I struck steel on flint,I heard the trap close: and since then have never set eyes on thatkind-hearted girl.

  The lantern lit, I took the key and fitted it to the lock. It turnednoisily, and a cold whiff of air struck my face. Gazing round this newchamber, I saw two lines of squat pillars, supporting a low arch'd roof.'Twas the crypt beneath the chapel, and smelt vilely. A green moisturetrickled down the pillars, and dripp'd on the tombs beneath them.

  At the end of this dreary place was a broken door, consisting only of aplank or two, that I easily pull'd away: and beyond, a narrow passage,over which I heard the tread of troopers plainly, as they pac'd to andfro; also the muffled note of the clock, sounding seven.

  The passage went fairly straight, but was block'd here and therewith fallen stones, over which I scrambled as best I could. And then,suddenly I was near pitching down a short flight of steps. I held thelantern aloft and look'd.

  At the steps' foot widen'd out a low room, whereof the ceiling, likethat of the crypt, rested on pillars. Between these, every inch of spacewas pil'd with barrels, chests, and great pyramids of round shot. Ineach corner lay a heap of rusty pikes. Of all this the signification wasclear. I stood in the munition room of the Castle.

  But what chiefly took my notice was a great door, studded with ironnails, that barr'd all exit from the place. Over the barrels I crepttoward it, keeping the lantern high, in dread of firing any loosepowder. 'Twas fast lock'd.

  I think that, for a moment or two, I could have wept. But in a while thethought struck me that with the knife in my pocket 'twas possible to cutaway the wood around the lock. "Courage!" said I: and pulling it forth,knelt down to work.

  Luck in life has always used me better than my deserts. At an hour's endthere I was, hacking away steadily, yet had made but little progress.And then, pressing the knife deep, I broke the blade off short. The doorupon the far side was cas'd with iron.

  _Tramp--tramp!_

  'Twas the sound of man's footfall, and to the ear appear'd to bedescending a flight of steps on the other side of the door. I bent myear to the keyhole: then stepp'd to a cask of bullets that stood handyby. I took out a dozen, felt in my pocket for Delia's kerchief that shehad given me, caught up a pike from the pile stack'd in the corner, andsoftly blowing out my light, stood back to be conceal'd by the door,when it open'd.

  The footsteps still descended. I heard an aged voice muttering--

  "Shrivel my bones--ugh!--ugh! Wintry work--wintry work! Here's an hourto send a grandfatherly man a-groping for a keg o' powder!"

  A wheezy cough clos'd the sentence, as a key was with difficulty fittedin the lock.

  "Ugh--ugh! Sure, the lock an' I be a pair, for stiff joints."

  The door creak'd back against me, and a shaft of light pierc'd thedarkness.

  Within the threshold, with his back to me, stood a grey-bearded servant,and totter'd so that the lantern shook in his hand. It sham'd me to lifta pike against one so weak. Instead, I dropp'd it with a clatter, andleap'd forward. The old fellow jumped like a boy, turn'd, and fac'd mewith dropp'd jaw, which gave me an opportunity to thrust four or fivebullets, not over roughly, into his mouth. Then, having turn'd him onhis back, I strapp'd Delia's kerchief tight across his mouth, and tookthe lantern from his hand.

  Not a word was said. Sure, the poor old man's wits were shaken, for helay meek as a mouse, and star'd up at me, while I unstrapp'd his beltand bound his feet with it. His hands I truss'd up behind him with hisown neckcloth; and catching up the lantern, left him there. I lock'dthe door after me, and slip'd the key into my pocket as I sprang up thestairs beyond.

  But here a light was shining, so once more I extinguish'd my lantern.The steps ended in a long passage, with a handsome lamp hanging at theuttermost end, and beneath this lamp I stepp'd into a place that fill'dme with astonishment.

  'Twas, I could not doubt, the entrance hall of the governor's house. Anoak door, very massive, fronted me; to left and right were two smallerdoors, that plainly led into apartments of the house. Also to myleft, and nigher than the door on that side, ran up a broad staircase,carpeted and brightly lit all the way, so that a very blaze fell on meas I stood. Under the first flight, close to my left shoulder, was aline of pegs with many cloaks and hats depending therefrom. Underfoot, Iremember, the hall was richly tiled in squares of red and white marble.

  Now clearly, this was a certain place wherein to be caught. "But,"thought I, "behind one of the two doors, to left or to right, must liethe governor's room of business; and in that room--as likely as not--hiskeys." Which door, then, should I choose? For to stay here was madness.

  While I stood pondering, the doubt was answer'd for me. From behind theright-hand door came a burst of laughter and clinking of glasses, on topof which a man's voice--the voice of Colonel Essex--call'd out for morewine.

  I took a step to the door on the left, paus'd for a second or two withmy hand on the latch, and then cautiously push'd it open. The chamberwas empty.

  'Twas a long room, with a light burning on a square centre table, andaround it a mass of books, loose papers and documents strewn, seeminglywithout order. The floor too was litter'd with them. Clearly this wasthe Colonel's office.

  I gave a rapid glance around. The lamp's rays scarce illumin'd the farcorners; but in one of these stood a great leathern screen, and overthe fireplace near it a rack was hanging, full of swords, pistols, andwalking canes. Stepping toward it I caught sight of Anthony's sword,suspended there amongst the rest (they had taken it from me on the dayof my examination); which now I took down and strapp'd at my side. Ithen chose out a pistol or two, slipped them into my sash, and advancedto the centre table.

  Under the lamplight lay His Majesty's letter, open.

  My hand was stretch'd out to catch it up, when I heard across the hall adoor open'd, and the sound of men's voices. They were coming toward theoffice.

  There was scarce time to slip back, and hide behind the screen, beforethe door latch was lifted, and two men enter'd, laughing yet.

  "Business, my lord--business," said the first ('twas Colonel Essex): "Ihave much to do to-night."

  "Sure," the other answer'd, "I thought we had settled it. You are tolend me a thousand out of your garrison--"

  "Which, on my own part, I would willingly do. Only I beg you toconsider, my lord, that my position here hangs on a thread. The extrememen are already against me: they talk of replacing me by Fiennes--"

  "Nat Fiennes is no soldier."

  "No: but he's a bigot--a stronger recommendation. Should this planmiscarry, and I lose a thousand men---"

  "Heavens alive, man! It _cannot_ miscarry. Hark ye: there's Ruthen ofPlymouth will take the south road with all his forces. A day's marchbehind I shall follow--along roads to northward--parallel for a way, butafterward converging. The Cornishmen are all in Bodmin. We sh
all comeon them with double their number, aye, almost treble. Can you doubt theissue?"

  "Scarcely, with the Earl of Stamford for General."

  The Earl was too far occupied to notice this compliment.

  "'Twill be swift and secret," he said, "as Death himself--and as sure.Let be the fact that Hopton is all at sixes and sevens since the Marquisshipp'd for Wales: and at daggers drawn with Mohun."

  Said the Colonel slowly--"Aye, the notion is good enough. Were I not inthis corner, I would not think twice. Listen now: only this morning theyforc'd me to order a young man's hanging, who might if kept alive beforc'd in time to give us news of value. I dar'd not refuse."

  "He that you caught with the King's letter?"

  "Aye--a trumpery missive, dealing with naught but summoning of thesheriff's posse and the like. There is more behind, could we but wait toget at it."

  "The gallows may loosen his tongue. And how of the girl that was takentoo?"

  "I have her in safe keeping. This very evening I shall visit her, andmake another trial to get some speech. Which puts me in mind--"

  The Colonel tinkled a small hand bell that lay on the table.

  The pause that followed was broken by the Earl.

  "May I see the letter?"

  The Colonel handed it, and tinkled the bell again, more impatiently. Atlength steps were heard in the hall, and a servant open'd the door.

  "Where is Giles?" ask'd the Colonel. "Why are you taking his place?"

  "Giles can't be found, your honor."

  "Hey?"

  "He's a queer oldster, your honor, an' maybe gone to bed wi' his achesand pains."

  (I knew pretty well that Giles had done no such thing: but be sure Ikept the knowledge safe behind my screen.)

  "Then go seek him, and say--No, stop: I can't wait. Order the coacharound at the barbican in twenty minutes from now--twenty minutes, mind,without fail. And say--'twill save time--the fellow's to drive me toMistress Finch's house in St. Thomas' Street--sharp!"

  As the man departed on his errand, the Earl laid down His Majesty'sletter.

  "Hang the fellow," he said, "if they want it: the blame, if any, willbe theirs. But, in the name of Heaven, Colonel, don't fail in lending methis thousand men! 'Twill finish the war out of hand."

  "I'll do it," answered the Colonel slowly.

  "And I'll remember it," said the Earl. "To-morrow, at six o'clock, I setout."

  The two men shook hands on their bargain and left the room, shutting thedoor after them.

  I crept forth from behind the screen, my heart thumping on my ribs. Thusfar it had been all fear and trembling with me; but now this was chang'dto a kind of panting joy. 'Twas not that I had spied the prison keyshanging near the fireplace, nor that behind the screen lay a heap ofthe Colonel's riding boots, whereof a pair, ready spurr'd, fitted mechoicely well; but that my ears tingled with news that turn'd my escapeto a matter of public welfare: and also that the way to escape layplann'd in my head.

  Shod in the Colonel's boots, I advanc'd again to the table. Withsealing-wax and the Governor's seal, that lay handy, I clos'd up theKing's letter, and sticking it in my breast, caught down the bunch ofkeys and made for the door.

  The hall was void. I snatch'd down a cloak and heavy broad-brimm'd hatfrom one of the pegs, and donning them, slipp'd back the bolts of theheavy door. It opened without noise. Then, with a last hitch of thecloak, to bring it well about me, I stepp'd forth into the night,shutting the door quietly on my heels.

  My feet were on the pavement of the inner ward. Above, one staronly broke the blackness of the night. Across the court was a sentrytramping. As I walk'd boldly up, he stopped short by the gate betweenthe wards and regarded me.

  Now was my danger. I knew not the right key for the wicket: and if Ifumbled, the fellow would detect me for certain. I chose one and drewnearer; the fellow look'd, saluted, stepp'd to the wicket, and open'd ithimself.

  "Good night, Colonel!"

  I did not trust myself to answer: but passed rapidly through to theouter ward. Here, to my joy, in the arch'd passage of the barbican gate,was the carriage waiting, the porter standing beside the door; andhere also, to my dismay, was a torch alight, and under it half a dozensoldiers chatting. A whisper pass'd on my approach--

  "The Colonel!" and they hurried into the guardroom.

  "Good evening, Colonel!" The porter bow'd low, holding the door wide.

  I pass'd him rapidly, climb'd into the shadow of the coach, and drew along breath.

  Then ensued a hateful pause, as the great gates were unbarr'd. I gripp'dray knees for impatience.

  The driver spoke a word to the porter, who came round to the coach dooragain.

  "To Mistress Finch's, is it not?"

  "Ay," I muttered; "and quickly."

  The coachman touched up his pair. The wheels mov'd; went quicker. Wewere outside the Castle.

  With what relief I lean'd back as the Castle gates clos'd behind us! Andwith what impatience at our slow pace I sat upright again next minute!The wheels rumbled over the bridge, and immediately we were rollingeasily down hill, through a street of some importance: but by this timethe shutters were up along the shop fronts and very few people abroad.At the bottom we turn'd sharp to the left along a broader thoroughfare:and then suddenly drew up.

  "Are we come?" I wonder'd. But no: 'twas the city gate, and here we hadto wait for three minutes at least, till the sentries recogniz'd theColonel's coach and open'd the doors to us. They stood on this sideand that, presenting arms, as we rattled through; and next moment I wascrossing a broad bridge, with the dark Avon on either side of me, andthe vessels thick thereon, their lanterns casting long lines of yellowon the jetty water, their masts and cordage looming up against the dullglare of the city.

  Soon we were between lines of building once more, shops, privatedwellings and warehouses intermix'd; then pass'd a tall church; and inabout two minutes more drew up again. I look'd out.

  Facing me was a narrow gateway leading to a house that stood somewhatback from the street, as if slipping away from between the lines ofshops that wedg'd it in on either hand. Over the grill a link wasburning. I stepp'd from the coach, open'd the gate, and crossing thesmall court, rang at the house bell.

  At first there was no answer. I rang again: and now had the satisfactionto hear a light footfall coming. A bolt was pull'd and a girl appear'dholding a candle high in her hand. Quick as thought, I stepped past herinto the passage.

  "Delia!"

  "Jack!"

  "Hist! Close the door. Where is Mistress Finch?"

  "Upstairs, expecting Colonel Essex. Oh, the happy day! Come--" sheled me into a narrow back room and setting down the light regardedme--"Jack, my eyes are red for thee!"

  "I see they are. To-morrow I was to be hang'd."

  She put her hands together, catching her breath: and very lovely Ithought her, in her straight grey gown and Puritan cap.

  "They have been questioning me. Didst get my letter?"

  The answer was on my lip when there came a sound that made us bothstart.

  'Twas the dull echo of a gun firing, up at the Castle.

  "Delia, what lies at the back here?"

  "A garden and a garden door: after these a lane leading to RedcliffStreet."

  "I must go, this moment."

  "And I?"

  She did not wait my answer, but running out into the passage, she cameswiftly back with a heavy key. I open'd the window.

  "Delia! De-lia!" 'Twas a woman's voice calling her, at the head of thestairs.

  "Aye, Mistress Finch."

  "Who was that at the door?"

  I sprang into the garden and held forth a hand to Delia. "In one moment,mistress!" call'd she, and in one moment was hurrying with me across thedark garden beds. As she fitted the key to the garden gate, I heard thevoice again.

  "De-lia!"

  'Twas drown'd in a--wild _rat-a-tat!_ on the street door, and the shoutsof many voices. We were close press'd.

  "Now
, Jack--to the right for our lives! Ah, these clumsy skirts!"

  We turn'd into the lane and rac'd down it. For my part, I swore to drownmyself in Avon rather than let those troopers retake me. I heard theiroutcries about the house behind us, as we stumbled over the frozenrubbish heaps with which the lane was bestrewn.

  "What's our direction?" panted I, catching Delia's hand to help heralong.

  "To the left now--for the river."

  We struck into a narrow side street; and with that heard a watchmanbawl---

  "_Past nine o' the night, an' a--!_"

  The shock of our collision sent him to finish his say in the gutter.

  "Thieves!" he yell'd.

  But already we were twenty yards away, and now in a broader street,whereof one side was wholly lin'd with warehouses. And here, to ourdismay, we heard shouts behind, and the noise of feet running.

  About halfway down the street I spied a gateway standing ajar, andpull'd Delia aside, into a courtyard litter'd with barrels and timbers,and across it to a black empty barn of a place, where a flight of woodensteps glimmer'd, that led to an upper story. We climb'd these stairs ata run.

  "Faugh! What a vile smell!"

  The loft was pil'd high with great bales of wool, as I found by thetouch, and their odor enough to satisfy an army. Nevertheless, I wasgroping about for a place to hide, when Delia touch'd me by the arm, andpointed.

  Looking, I descried in the gloom a tall quadrilateral of purple, notfive steps away, with a speck of light shining near the top of it, andthree dark streaks running down the middle, whereof one was much thickerthan the rest. 'Twas an open doorway; the speck, a star fram'd withinit; the broad streak, a ship's mast reaching up; and the lesser onestwo ends of a rope, working over a pulley above my head, and used forlowering the bales of wool on shipboard.

  Advancing, I stood on the sill and look'd down. On the black water,twenty feet below, lay a three-masted trader, close against thewarehouse. My toes stuck out over her deck, almost.

  At first glance I could see no sign of life on board: but presently wasaware of a dark figure leaning over the bulwarks, near the bows. Hewas quite motionless. His back was toward us, blotted against the blackshadow; and the man engag'd only, it seem'd, in watching the brightsplash of light flung by the ship's lantern on the water beneath him.

  I resolv'd to throw myself on the mercy of this silent figure; and putout a hand to test the rope. One end of it was fix'd to a bale of woolthat lay, as it had been lower'd, on the deck. Flinging myself on theother, I found it sink gently from the pulley, as the weight below movedslowly upward: and sinking with it, I held on till my feet touch'd thedeck.

  Still the figure in the bows was motionless.

  I paid out my end of the rope softly, lowering back the bale of wool:and, as soon as it rested again on deck, signalled to Delia to letherself down.

  She did so. As she alighted, and stood beside me, our hands bungled. Therope slipp'd up quickly, letting down the bale with a run.

  We caught at the rope, and stopp'd it just in time: but the pulley abovecreak'd vociferously. I turn'd my head.

  The man in the bows had not mov'd.