A signal made with four glow-worms can be seen by many who happen to be
gazing out into the darkness of the night. Janet had seen them plainly,
and, as it happened, so had the founder, who took down--and buckled on
his sword, and then crept cautiously to Sir Mark's chamber.
"Are you awake?" he whispered.
"Yes, yes," cried Sir Mark, starting up with a cry; "is aught the
matter?"
"Hush, man," whispered the founder, "or you'll alarm the house. One
would think I had told thee that one was sotting spark to the
powder-barrels in the cellar."
"Powder-barrels in the cellar?" said Sir Mark, in a hoarse whisper.
"Of course. Where would'st have them for safety? Tut, man, it is not
Guido Fawkes who has come. He is here."
"What, Fawkes?"
"Nay, how dense thou art. Up and dress quickly. He is in the garden,
I'll wager, trying to keep tryst with my child. Dress quickly, and
bring thy sword. If he be not pricked to-night as a warning my name is
not Cobbe. I'll wait thee in the passage below."
He slipped out on to the broad landing, and waited, when, to his
surprise and rage, he saw a figure hooded and cloaked, glide down the
stairs and out of the front door, which creaked lightly as the girl
passed through.
"Curse her!" he muttered. "I could slay her at once, but I'll take her
with him. Pest on this fellow, how long he is!"
He was completely out of patience when he heard the stairs creak, and
Sir Mark crept softly down.
"Quick!" the founder cried, "or we shall be too late. Now," he
whispered, "go you and watch, sword in hand, by the bridge. You can
manage without going in this time, while I search the garden. We'll
trap him to-night. How dare he come?"
The couple separated, and, each taking his apportioned part, Gil Carr's
chance of escape seemed small indeed. He was beneath Mace's window, and
in another minute the founder, sword in hand, would have been upon him,
had not a faint cry from another part of the garden drawn him aside to
where, dimly enough, he could see Mace's cloak and hood beside a tall
dark figure.
The founder stood watching for a few minutes, and, sooth to say,
hesitating; for now it had come to a point, he was loth to injure Gil,
partly from a latent liking for him, partly because of his power amongst
the people of the place. But the recollection of Abel Churr's
disappearance made his heart grow stern, and, with the full
determination to chastise Gil for his insolence in coming to the house
after being so sternly forbidden, he cautiously advanced to where the
figures were standing.
The catching of a rose-thorn in his doublet and the sharp rustle the
twig gave in being released sufficed to alarm the wearer of the cloak,
and she glided quickly down the garden-walk with her companion,
disappearing from the founder's gaze; and, though he followed them
cautiously, they must have gone down some side-path, for he could not
see them again.
"Pest on them!" he muttered. "They knew I was on the watch."
Under this impression he crept cautiously back towards the house,
expecting to see them there; but, though he waited some time, there was
no sign, and he went down the garden again, which, fortunately for Gil,
was sufficiently extensive to allow of the meeting in progress going on
unheard.
The founder was not aware of the fact, but more than once in the
darkness he was literally hunting the two figures, which kept gliding on
before him, avoiding him almost by a miracle, till in sheer weariness
and disgust he returned to where Sir Mark was impatiently watching near
the bridge.
"Well! Hast seen them?" he said.
"Nay," said the founder, "only once. We'll wait here and see if they
come."
The words had scarcely left his lips before he uttered an exclamation,
and ran towards the house, just in time to catch a dark figure stealing
towards the door.
"Quick!" he whispered to Sir Mark, who had followed him; and,
half-carrying the captive within doors, the founder tore aside the hood,
exclaiming against his daughter for her wanton ways.
"What will Sir Mark think of you?" he cried angrily. "He will--Why,
curse the girl; it's Janet!"
Janet it was, who on the spur of the moment had masqueraded as her
mistress, gone down the garden, and with throbbing heart thrown herself
as she believed in Gil's way. For he suddenly seized her in his arms,
and, though she uttered a faint cry and escaped, she took care not to go
beyond his vision, but led him a Will-o'-the-Wisp kind of dance from
walk to walk, till, thinking she had been sufficiently coy, she stopped
short, quite out of breath, and allowed herself to be caught.
He who captured her was sharper of eyesight, and, in spite of the cloak
and hood, not for a moment deceived. He had made too much use of his
eyes by night for them to play him false; and, as once more he caught
the girl in his arms, he held her tightly, exclaiming--
"Why, Janet, you pretty little witch, have I caught thee at last?"
The girl no sooner felt the rough face of her captor against hers than
she struggled vigorously, though in vain.
"Why, it be Mas' Wat Kilby," she panted.
"Wat Kilby it is, my darling," he replied in an amorous growl. "Who did
you think it was?"
"Never mind," cried the girl; "loose me, you wicked old bear, or I'll
shriek for help. There--quick--there's some one coming."
It was so true that Wat Kilby relaxed his grip, all but that upon one of
the girl's wrists, and this he held as together they hurried through the
garden on tiptoe, Janet, becoming more amiable, whispering her companion
to go cautiously "for heaven's sake!"
He obeyed her, and together they glided from path to path of the great
bosky, tree-shadowed garden, literally hunted from place to place by the
founder, until, finding that he had given up the quest, Janet freed
herself from the grasp of Wat Kilby and made for the door, quite
satisfied with her escapade, and only thinking now of getting safely
back.
"A horrible old bear!" she muttered; and then her heart sank, for a
figure she knew to be that of her master made at her, and she was caught
by the wrist.
Meanwhile, Wat Kilby, who had followed at a short distance, muttering to
himself, and calling Janet "a coy little craft," "a tricksey little
caravel," and half-a-dozen more suitable nautical terms expressive of
her distant ways and tempting prettiness, suddenly became aware of the
danger to his leader. For the founder at the end of a few minutes came
out of the house with Sir Mark, and posted himself where he would be
certain to encounter Gil as he came away.
"And then there might be mischief," growled the old sailor. "If the
skipper went down, it would break little beauty's heart; so it would if
he pricked her father. This is the second time I've saved him through
being here. Wonder whether he'll be ungrateful enough to turn upon me
now for doing a bit o' gentle courting on my own account.
"Ho, ho, ho," he chuckled; "just as if a man could ever be too old to
love a pretty girl. Old women are old women, and not much account; but
a staunch, sturdy, seasoned man, why he's like old oak, and makes the
best o' building wood. Now, then, where's the skipper? It's high time
for us to be sheering off."
He pretty well knew from former observations where to encounter Gil;
and, creeping cautiously amongst the bushes, he waited his time, and
rose up before him as he was making for the bridge.
"All right, skipper," he whispered. "Breakers ahead! Hard down, and
let's get back the other way."
Gil knew Wat too well to think that he would deceive him or be mistaken,
and, placing himself under his guidance, he followed him to the back of
the garden, where they leaped the fence, and at last reached the edge of
the pool.
"There's no other way to get back without being seen, skipper,"
whispered Wat. "We must wade across here; and, if it gets too deep, try
a swim. They're watching to pook us by the bridge."
"Who is watching?" whispered Gil.
"Mas' Cobbe and that dandy Jack."
"Let them watch!" muttered Gil, as he thought of his parting from Mace
that night; and with light heart, and a feeling of readiness to
encounter anything for his young love's sake, the young man followed his
companion into the cold, dark waters of the Pool.
Volume 2, Chapter II.