CHAPTER XVI
I kept to the road, often glancing backward for any sign of pursuit,but reached Crowle without adventure, and made straight for thevicarage. The front door stood open, and I strode in, right glad to bein security, shouting, "Aunt, where are you?" forgetting, for themoment, the shock I was like to give her. A maid whom I did not knowcame from the kitchen, but stopped short at sight of me, and screamed.That brought me to recollection.
"Don't be alarmed, my wench," said I, "but go quick to Mistress Graves,and tell her there is one here who has news for her."
But the maid continued to scream "Master! Thieves! Murder!" And hercries brought a strange clergyman into the hall, who appeared not tolike the look of me.
"What is this? Who are you? What is your business?" he asked, all ina breath.
"I would see Mistress Graves," I answered.
"Mistress Graves is with her husband in Lincoln, as every one in theparish knows," said the parson, eyeing me more mistrustfully.
"In Lincoln!" I echoed in amazement. Then I remembered that the vicarheld some appointment at the minster--a praelectorship, orsub-praelectorship, I believe it was called--which took him to the cityat stated times.
"In Lincoln," repeated the parson. "Therefore you can have no furtherbusiness here."
"And have they taken their servants?" I asked. "They would not needthe gardener: is he not here?"
"There are men on the premises," he answered, "but you will find thevicar's gardener at his cottage, I dare say."
And he motioned with his hand toward the door.
"Oh, I am not to be so dismissed," I blurted out. "I am MistressGraves' nephew, Vavasour."
"What effrontery!" cried the parson. "The young gentleman is dead andburied."
"But I am he, I tell you. I have been immured in Melwood Priory, andonly escaped this morning."
"If that be so," answered the parson, who evidently did not believe aword of it, "you should appeal to the magistrates."
"Such is my intention. But all my belongings are here. I sent them tomy aunt's care seventeen days ago. I beg you to let me have the meansof cleanliness, and a change of clothing."
"You must be as much fool as knave, to imagine I shall give my friend'sproperty to the first beggar who chooses to ask for it."
"But I will describe my baggage and its contents," I pleaded.
"Doubtless, doubtless. Perhaps you have an inventory in your pocket,"he replied, with contempt for the tricks of beggars in his tone.
His own words seemed to set him thinking, for he drew out a paper fromhis pocket, and read it, looking up at me two or three times in thecourse of reading.
"I have here your description, point by point," said he, when he hadfinished the perusal, "and your name is given as Jim Ulceby, for whoseapprehension a reward is offered. The description tallies precisely,so far as I can see. It makes mention of certain marks on the breast,which may or may not be on yours."
"I bear the marks," I said.
"Oh! You confess it?"
I recounted briefly what had been done to me, ending by a claim that heshould aid me as befitted his sacred office. In this I made a greatmistake, for the parson waxed hot, declaring my story utterlyincredible, and bade me begone. I felt quite sure he would havedetained me, if he had had force at command. So I made my way to DaftJack's cottage by every turn and cross-cut I knew, in hope to eludeobservation. It stood near one end of a small orchard, thicklyplanted, a narrow path leading from the orchard gate to the cottagedoor. I rapped on the door with my knuckles, and heard Jack's highvoice tremble as he called "Come in." The room, lighted only by asmall window, which a tree overshadowed, was dim to eyes fresh from thesunshine, but I saw Jack seated on a stool, shoulders bent, hands onknees, face directed toward the door.
"Who are you? Speak," he cried, in a tone of fear.
"An old acquaintance, Jack; not dead, as you may have believed, butsorely in need of friendly help."
Jack sprang out of his posture of fright, and seized my hands.
"I knew it was your step," he almost shrieked. "Oh yes; and it is yourvoice. You're warm and wick. Oh, Mester Frank, where have you been?And what's come to your face?" The poor fellow trembled, and fell toblubbering, squeezing my hands and gazing up at me.
"I will tell you all about myself shortly, Jack, but I am as hungry asa moudiwarp; how dirty I am, there's no telling. Can you find me soapand water and a scrubbing-brush? And I want some other clothing thanthese foul rags. Whether my money will go so far, though, is doubtful."
Pulling out the purse which Bess had given me, put me in mind of thewarning with which she had charged me.
"But you are to lie, snug, Jack, so you cannot do marketing for me.Bess Boswell sent you word that soldiers are prowling about."
Jack chuckled, and taking out of a box a gown and a bonnet, such as ourlabouring women wear in the fields, he informed me that, indued inthese, he became Judy Hoggat, well known to his neighbours; and as hishairless face was womanish enough, when framed and partly concealed inthe hood, I judged he might safely do my errands.
An hour later we sat down to meat, I clean and tolerably comfortable inshepherd's garb. When we had eaten and drunk our fill, and I hadsatisfied Jack's curiosity, I asked for cleat-boards and staff,intending to cross to Sandtoft without delay; but while Jack wasgetting ready for my journey, I fell asleep in my chair, and slept tillfour o'clock--too late to go and return to meet Bess, who might havesomething of urgent importance to tell me. I felt heartily ashamed ofmy drowsiness, and inclined to be angry with Jack for not rousing me;but he answered my rating with--
"Wouldn't ha' waked you for a hatful of gold. Why, you looked as tiredas a dog in a pedlar's cart."
With the dusk came Bess, who had met a troop of carabineers soon afterwe parted at Belton, and being questioned by the officer, had sent themeastward to Butterwick ferry. Of her father's whereabouts and presentbusiness she knew little, beyond the fact that he had gone away in ahurry on receipt of a message from Sheffield. She was disposed tothink the message related to Vliet, for Boswell had growled a curse on"all Dutchmen." Bess had ascertained that my friend Portington was athome, and she urged my going to Tudworth under cover of the darkness.My first duty, she held, was to obtain the help and countenance offriends; and in spite of my longing for sight of Anna, I acknowledgedthe good sense of the advice, and agreed to set out shortly. I had nosooner said so than we heard the clatter of horses at the trot.
"Soldiers!" exclaimed Bess.
"Judy Hoggat, be ready to slip out," said I.
Jack nodded, and put on his simple disguise. The horsemen drew up witha jangling noise, which certified them soldiers. Heavy footstepsapproached the door, and some one knocked as with the butt of a pistol,and called out--
"Open, in the King's name!"
Jack threw it wide. "And what does his Majesty want of poor JudyHoggat?" he asked, in a quavering, frightened voice. There was nochance for him to escape, for the little orchard was thronged withcarabineers.
A grizzled old sergeant strode into the room, followed by three of hismen, and answered--
"A better light for one thing. Stir up your fire, my good woman, andbring me a candle."
This done, the sergeant poked the candle in my face.
"Uncover your chest," he ordered. The old fellow examined the marksattentively. "As described," he muttered; but I thought he had thelook of being mystified about something.
"Jim Ulceby, you are my prisoner," said he.
"I am not Jim Ulceby, but I yield--under protest."
The sergeant shook his head, as if to imply that my protest was noaffair of his, and gave order for my removal. I had time only to askBess to let Portington and Drury know of my state, which she promisedto do without delay. I begged her also to send the news of me toMistress Goel, but the soldiers had me out of the cottage before Iheard her answer. There is no need to dwell on the particulars of thenext few days.
The first night I was lodged in a stable-loft at theBull in Epworth, where we remained until evening, when the sergeant andfour carabineers took me to Keadby, which place we left by sloop forHull on the following day.