The skiff retraced its course up Chesapeake Bay. The only landings it
made were for food and water, and at such times George Talbot kept
closely hidden, while Fergus or Michael or Edward Nigel did the
parleying. For Talbot was known by sight to almost every one who lived
on the shore of the great bay, and they all knew as well that he had
been a prisoner of the governor of Virginia. News could travel
surprisingly fast through the wilderness, and the hunters and farmers,
though having the best of intentions toward him, might hinder his escape
from Lord Howard of Effingham.
The skiff brought them safely to the Susquehanna, and Talbot, his wife,
and his three friends landed and went up to his manor-house. There was
great rejoicing among all his retainers, and the story of his rescue
from the Virginia prison was told again and again, and each time it was
told it gained in thrills. But Fergus Rowan told every man, woman, and
child on the plantation that no whisper of the chief's whereabouts must
get beyond the limits of his farms. The chief was safely out of
Virginia, but Lord Howard had great influence in Maryland, and might
try to capture George Talbot again.
A fortnight later Michael, who had been sent to Baltimore City on
business, brought back word that the governor of Virginia had raised a
great hue and cry when he found his prisoner escaped, had sent his
agents into Maryland to find out where Talbot had gone, and had
compelled Lord Baltimore's own agents to help him in the search.
"The first place where they would look is here," Mrs. Talbot said to her
husband. "We must find some hiding-place for you."
"Can you think of one, Michael?" asked Talbot. "Boys are apt to know the
most concerning places to hide."
Michael thought of all the places near the plantation. "There's a cave
in the river bank up in the woods," he said presently. "I don't think
any one could find you there."
So Talbot and his wife and Michael looked for the hiding-place. The cave
was large, and was surrounded by thickets, and screened by bushes from
any one on the river. It seemed just the place that was wanted. Fergus
and Nigel were told about it, but no one else; and plans were made to
send provisions by a roundabout path.
There were wild fowl in the marshes of the river, and Talbot could hunt
them almost from the door of his cave. He caught two hawks and trained
them to catch wild fowl and so help to stock his larder. While Nigel
and Fergus kept watch at the plantation, always on the lookout for any
suspicious-appearing stranger, Michael, fowling-piece in his hand, would
make his way along the Susquehanna, and, joining his master, spend hours
with him training the pair of hawks.
The outlaw,--for that was what Talbot was now, with a price set on his
head,--had only been in hiding for a few days when officers, both of
Lord Baltimore and of the governor of Virginia, came to the plantation.
Mrs. Talbot was at the manor-house with Fergus. To the officers'
questions as to where her husband had fled, she answered with a
question: "Would he come back here, where he would expect his enemies to
be certain to search for him?"
It was clear that neither she nor Fergus would tell the men anything
they might know about Talbot. She told them to search the house and the
plantation. The officers made their search, while Michael, hunting fowls
along the river, kept watch, ready to warn his master to draw back into
his cave, in case the searchers should hunt along the bank.
The men didn't go anywhere near the cave, and left the plantation
without any inkling of where Talbot had gone. But for several days his
wife and friends were careful not to go near his hiding-place, lest
spies might be watching them.
Lord Howard of Effingham had had all ships sailing from Virginia and
Maryland searched for the fugitive. He had spread a net pretty well
over both provinces, for he was determined to catch George Talbot if he
possibly could. Another man might have given up the chase when he found
no clue, but not so the determined governor of Virginia. As a result his
agents came to the plantation time and again, and Talbot had to stay in
his hiding-place while winter changed to spring, and spring to summer,
and the next autumn came. Michael was his companion much of the time,
but idleness was hard for a man of Talbot's nature.
The people on the plantation were faithful to their master, and gave no
sign that they suspected he might be in hiding not very far away. But
such a secret was hard to keep through many months, and at last some of
Lord Baltimore's officers got wind in some way of the farmers'
suspicions. They waited until they heard from London that Lord Baltimore
had been successful in getting an order from the Privy Council of
England directing that the governor of Virginia should send Talbot to
London for trial instead of trying him in the province, and then they
swooped down on the plantation, found Talbot, and forced him to
surrender.
The outlaw chief rode to Baltimore City a prisoner. His wife went with
him, and Michael to wait on her. In the town he learned from his friends
that he was to be tried in England, not in Virginia. That was some
comfort, and his wife told him that as soon as she learned that he had
sailed for Europe she would take ship too, and meet him there. She had
friends in London, and they might have much influence with the Privy
Council.
The Maryland officers handed their prisoner over to the agents of the
Virginia governor. These took him to Lord Howard, who had him put in a
prison that was more securely guarded than the one on the Rappahannock
had been. In prison George Talbot cooled his heels for some time, while
his wife and Michael waited in Baltimore City to learn of his sailing
for England.
Lord Howard of Effingham had grown so arbitrary as governor of
Virginia,--where he had almost as much power as the king had in
England,--that, instead of obeying the order of the Privy Council and
sending his prisoner to London, he kept him in prison during the winter
of 1685, and then in April of that year actually dared to announce that
he meant to place Talbot on trial in Virginia for the killing of
Christopher Rousby.
Word of this came to Mrs. Talbot and her friends in Maryland. Lord
Howard was disobeying the law of England in not sending Talbot there for
trial, but, notwithstanding that, he might, in his tyrannical fashion,
try Talbot, convict him, and even execute him. His wife could do nothing
to prevent this if she stayed in Maryland; so, faithful and brave as
ever, she took passage in a merchantman for England, and crossed the
Atlantic Ocean, with Michael as her squire.
Michael, used to the wilderness of the colonies, with only a few
scattered settlements to break the stretches of woods and meadows,
opened his eyes very wide at the multitude of houses, the throngs of
people, that he saw in the city by the Thames. He went with Mrs. Talbot
to call on Lord Baltimore, the owner of the province of Maryland. Lord
Baltimore listened intently to Mrs. Talbot's story, and grew red in the
face with anger when he heard how the governor of Virginia was making
light of the order of the Privy Council.
"I will at once see the most influential members of the Council,
Madame," said Lord Baltimore. "I will see my friend Tyrconnel, I will go
to His Majesty himself, if need be, to secure Mr. Talbot his rights. I
knew Lord Howard to be a headstrong knave; I'd not suspicioned him to be
a traitor also! I'll bring him to time right soon!"
"It must be soon, my lord," said Mrs. Talbot. "The governor may bring
Mr. Talbot to trial any day."
"I'll go at once," Lord Baltimore assured her. "We'll have a message
sent to Virginia by the next ship out."
Mrs. Talbot and Michael went back to their lodgings, and Lord Baltimore
hastened to his influential friend Tyrconnel, who took him to the king,
James II. Hot with indignation, Baltimore denounced the illegal act of
the governor of Virginia. He made it plain that Lord Howard was actually
daring to defy His Majesty's orders in his province.
The king frowned. "Indeed, my Lord Baltimore, it does look as if our
governor of Virginia were growing somewhat overfed with pride. Our Privy
Council orders your man Talbot sent here for trial on the charge of
killing a tax-collector, and instead Lord Howard holds him and threatens
to try him there. I will teach my obstinate governor a lesson." He
turned to a page and bade him fetch writing materials.
The king wrote a few lines in his own hand, and handed the paper to
Baltimore. It was a pardon in full for George Talbot. "Send that to
Virginia as fast as you can," said the king. "If Howard fails to heed
that, I shall have to appoint another governor in his stead."
Lord Baltimore went directly to Mrs. Talbot's lodgings and showed her
the king's pardon. "We must send it to Virginia at once," said he.
"Let my boy Michael Rowan take it," said Mrs. Talbot. "There is none
would do more for my husband."
So Michael sailed for America with the precious document. His ship made
a quick passage to Virginia; and it was fortunate it did, for no sooner
had he landed at Jamestown than he heard that Talbot had been put on
trial, had been convicted of murder, and was waiting execution.
Michael carried the king's pardon to Lord Howard. The governor read it
and considered it. Apparently he realized that this was an order he did
not dare disobey. So he gave directions to his officers to set the
prisoner free.
Michael was the first friend George Talbot saw when he came out of
prison, no longer an outlaw with a price upon his head, but a free man.
"You were with me when I caused this trouble, Michael," said Talbot,
gripping the boy by the hand, "and you're with me now when the trouble's
at an end. God bless you for a faithful friend to me!"
He asked news of his wife, and when he learned that she had gone to
London and had besought Lord Baltimore to rescue him from the governor
of Virginia he said, "We must go to her, Michael. First a trip to the
plantation to get the funds and set matters straight there, and then
over the sea to England!"
So Talbot and Michael rode north to the manor-house on the Susquehanna
in the summer. It was not like the voyage in the skiff, when the outlaw
had to keep constantly in hiding. Now he rode openly, and everywhere
people who knew who he was flocked to shake his hand and welcome him
back to Maryland.
They reached the plantation and there Fergus Rowan and Edward Nigel and
all the other retainers gave their chief a great welcome. But his
thoughts were over the ocean, and he quickly gave directions what should
be done in his absence, and went to Baltimore City to take ship. He
wanted Michael to go with him, and Michael's parents consented, for the
boy was now grown to be a man, and they thought it well that he should
see something of the world.
Husband and wife met in London, and Michael made his home with them
there, serving as Talbot's secretary, and learning the ways of a world
vastly different from that of the plantation on the Susquehanna.
Talbot never returned to Maryland. He had not been in England long when
the revolution broke out that placed William of Orange on the throne.
Talbot, ever an adventurous spirit, took the side of James II and the
Stuarts, fought as a Jacobite, and when the Stuart cause was lost, went
to France and entered the service of the French king.
Michael, however, went back, was granted land by Lord Baltimore, and
made his own farm in the fertile country of northern Maryland. George
Talbot had always been more of an adventurer than a planter or farmer,
but Michael Rowan preferred to till his own fields, though he never
forgot the thrill of excitement of the days when he had served his
outlawed chief.