life, without striving with all my power – ”
“Never fash yourself about us, most excellent host,” roared Sainton, appearing behind the distressed old gentleman. “Friend Mowbray and I can win our way out of London as we won our way into it. Methinks ’tis a place that has little liking for honest men, saving those who, like your worship, are forced to bide in it.”
Seizing the cue thus unconsciously given by Roger, Walter said hurriedly: —
“We bid you Godspeed, my worthy friend, and hope some day to see you again. Farewell, Mistress Anna. Come, Roger. I think I hear the clank of steel in the distance.”
“My soul, whither will you hie yourselves at this hour?” gasped Sir Thomas.
“We can strive to avoid arrest, and that is a point gained. Forgive me! Lights are dangerous.”
He seized a lantern held by a serving-man and blew out the flame. Instantly he clasped Eleanor Roe around the waist and kissed her on the lips. She was so taken by surprise that she resisted not at all, even lifting her pretty face, in sheer wonderment, it might be.
“Good-by, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I shall see you again, if all the King’s men made a cordon about you.”
Then Roger and he vanished among the trees, while a loud knocking disturbed the quietude of the night in the street which adjoined the gardens.
CHAPTER IV
“The Philistines be upon thee, Samson.”
For the first time in his life Mowbray felt the tremor of a woman’s kiss. Naturally, in an age when kissing was regarded, save by husbands and jealous lovers, as a mere expression of esteem, his lips had met those of many a pretty girl during a village revel or when the chestnuts exploded on the hearth of an All Hallow’s Eve. Yet there was an irresistible impulse, a silent avowal, in the manner of his leave-taking of Eleanor Roe that caused the blood to tingle in his veins with the rapture of a new delight. For a few paces he trod on air.
Big Roger, recking little of these lover-like raptures, brought him back to earth with a question: —
“Had we not better seek the open streets than scramble through these uncertain trees, friend Walter?”
“Forgive me. I should have told you that one awaits us here.”
“Marry! Is the refuge planned already?”
“I know not. Hist, now, a moment, and we shall soon be wiser.”
They stood in silence for a few seconds. They heard the clash of accouterments and the champing of bits from the cavalcade halted outside Alderman Cave’s door.
“I’ faith,” growled Roger, “his most gracious Majesty hath sent an army to apprehend us. Yet, if you be not misled, he bids fair to be no better off than Waltham’s calf, which ran nine miles to suck a bull and came home athirst.”
“I pray you cease. Sir Thomas! Sir Thomas Roe!”
At the call a figure advanced from amidst the trees.
“Grant me your pardon, Master Mowbray,” came the polite response. “I was not prepared to encounter a son of Anak in your company. I had grave design to climb the wall speedily when I saw your giant comrade dimly outlined. It will be a matter of no small difficulty to pilot him unobserved through the city.”
“Show me the North Road and I’ll make my own gait,” said Roger.
“Nay, that is not my intent. I was, in foolish parlance, thinking aloud. Difficulties exist only that resolute men may surmount them. I do not decry your length of limb, good sir. Rather would I avail myself of it. Behind these bushes there is a wall of such proportions that your height alone will enable us to scale it without noise. Now, Master Mowbray, up on your friend’s shoulders. I will follow suit. Between the two of us we shall hoist him after.”
Roe’s cool demeanor inspired them with confidence. Though it was now so dark, owing to storm-clouds having banked up from the west, that they had to grope their path through the undergrowth, they obeyed his directions. All three were seated astride a ten-foot wall without much delay.
That they had not acted an instant too soon was evident from the fact that already armed men carrying torches were spreading fan-wise across Draper’s Garden from the Caves’s house, and they heard a loud voice bellowing from the private doorway: —
“I call on all liege men and true to secure the arrest of two malefactors who have but now escaped from this dwelling.”
Mowbray found himself wondering why the hue and cry had been raised so promptly. Some one must have indicated the exact place where he and Roger had disappeared. But Roe dropped from the wall on the other side and whispered up to them: —
“Follow! It is soft earth.”
“Hold by the wall,” he murmured when they stood by his side. “It leads to a wicket.”
Walking in Indian file they quickly passed into a narrow court. Thence, threading many a dark alley and tortuous by-street, stopping always at main thoroughfares until their guide signaled that the way was clear, they crossed the city towards the river. Roe knew London better than the watch. Seemingly, he could find the track blindfold, and Walter guessed that the cavalier often used this device in order to encounter Anna Cave unseen by others. It was passing strange that Nellie should be an inmate of a house where her brother was so unwelcome. However, this was no hour to push inquiries. He was now utterly lost as to locality, and he awaited, with some curiosity, the outcome of this nocturnal wandering through the most ancient part of London.
At last, the close air of the alleys gave place to a fresher draft, and his quick ear caught the plash of water.
“Guard your steps here,” said Roe. “The stairs are not of the best, but they will bear your weight if you proceed with caution.”
He appeared to vanish through a trap-door in a small jetty. Down in the impenetrable darkness they heard him say: —
“I have flint and steel, yet, if you give me your hand, I can dispense with a light.”
Thus, with exact directions, he seated them safely in a boat, and, controlling the craft by retaining touch with the beams of the wharf, after gliding through the gloom for a few yards he was able to ply a pair of oars in the stream. Neither of the others had been on the Thames at night – Roger had not even seen the river before – and so, when the oarsman vigorously impelled the wherry straight into what looked like a row of tall houses, with lights in some of the upper windows, the North-country youths thought for sure they would collide violently with the foundations. They were minded to cry a warning, but seeing that Roe glanced frequently over his shoulder they refrained.
Thus, they shot under one of the many arches of London Bridge, covered then throughout its length by tall buildings, and, once they were speeding in mid-stream of the open river, they saw a forest of masts rising dimly in front.
Ere long, Sir Thomas Roe, who exercised sailor-like skill in the management of his oars, picked out one of the innumerable company of ships and lay to under the vessel’s quarter.
“Defiance ahoy!” he cried softly.
“Aye, aye,” replied a voice, and a rope ladder fell into the boat. Whilst Roe
