"If thou wouldst save thy friend from a terrible fate, come hither
to me without delay."
Jacob stood gazing at this scrap of parchment as one in a dream,
his slow wits only taking in by degrees the meaning of the
mysterious words.
"Thy friend," he repeated slowly, "thy friend! What friend? I have
many. Terrible fate! Saints preserve us, what means that? Can it be
Cuthbert who is in peril--that rash Cuthbert, for ever diving into
matters he had far, far better let alone, and burning his fingers
for naught? Can it be of him it speaks? Belike it may. There have
been ugly whispers abroad of late. Mine uncle told me only this day
that some constables came to his door asking some trivial questions
anent his household, and speaking of Cuthbert by name. It would be
like his folly at such a moment to run his head into a noose.
"But he shall not be hurt if I can help it. Who is this wise woman
who sends the message? Methinks I have heard Rachel speak of her
ere now. Well, I can but go visit her and hear what she would have
to say. I know the house in Budge Row; I took Rachel to the door
once. For myself, I love not such hocus pocus; but if it be a
matter of Cuthbert's safety, I will e'en go and listen to her tale.
If she wants to filch money from me for foul purposes, she will
find she has come to the wrong man. I will pay for nothing till I
have got my money's worth."
It was already dark. Jacob had been partaking of one of Martin
Holt's hospitable suppers. Cuthbert had been absent, and Mistress
Susan had remarked with some acrimony that the young man was
growing a deal too fine in his ways for them. He came and went just
at pleasure; and she did not think it well to encourage him in his
idleness and irregularities. Martin opined that he had been amusing
himself by watching the preparations for the grand doings on the
morrow. The King was in London, and would open his Parliament the
next day. Little was being talked of but that event all over London
that night.
And now, on reaching his home, Jacob found this brief missive
awaiting him, and started forth again, wondering not a little
whither it would lead him. The streets were almost empty. Budge Row
was dark and silent as the grave. Yet as he looked up at the tall
narrow house, a window from above was softly opened, and a low
voice over his head spoke in soft, urgent accents:
"Hist! make no sound. Wait but a moment. I will open to you."
Jacob waited, and almost immediately the door was cautiously
opened, and a head looked round, a pair of dark eyes peering up
into his face.
"It is well, Jacob Dyson, thou hast come," said the same voice, in
the lowest of low whispers. "But I may not speak with thee here.
Thou must come with me elsewhere. Tyrrel's men are in this house,
carousing in their cups. But they have ears like the wild things of
the forest. I may not bring thee within the door. They think that I
be gone to my chamber to sleep. They will seek me no more tonight.
And before the morrow dawns our task must be accomplished."
"And what is that task?" asked Jacob breathlessly.
"To free Cuthbert Trevlyn from the bonds that hold him; to save him
from the power of those who will, when the morning dawns; deliver
him up to the emissaries of the law as one who has taken part in
the vilest plot that has ever been conceived by heart of man!"
Jacob started, and faced his companion, who was hurrying him along
the dark streets at a rapid pace.
"Plot, woman! what dost thou mean?" he cried, alarmed and
distrustful, and yet impelled to let her lead him whither she
would, dominated by the power of her strong will. "I must know more
of this matter ere I go further. I have heard fell whispers ere
now, but I know not what their truth be. I am a peaceable,
law-abiding citizen. I mix myself not up in such doubtful matters.
Speak plainly, and tell me what thou knowest, and what evil or harm
threatens Cuthbert Trevlyn, or I vow I will go no further with
thee. I will not be made a tool of; I will not walk in the dark."
He stopped short, and she did the same, still holding his arm in a
close clutch. They had reached one of the many city churches; the
big building loomed up before them dark and tall. The wise woman
drew her companion within the shelter of the deep porch. Here they
could speak at will; none could overhear them now.
"I will tell thee all in as few words as may be. Thou knowest me as
the wise woman of Budge Row; but once I was the queen of the
woodland, the queen of the gipsy tribes there, and I still hold
some power over the children of the forest. They still bring me
news of all that passes there. Cuthbert Trevlyn has found the lost
treasure, and in finding it has killed one of the tribe. Hatred and
greed have been alike stirred up. Many are bound together against
him. If he cannot be snatched this night from the clutches into
which he has let himself fall--oh, why would he not heed my
warnings?--nothing can avail to save him.
"Listen, Jacob Dyson. Tyrrel, the notable highwayman, upon whose
head a price has long been set, has this night taken Cuthbert
Trevlyn prisoner, hoping to win from him the secret of the hidden
treasure which now lies in his keeping. Cuthbert has refused to
tell him aught; and now he purposes to strive to turn this to good
account for himself by delivering him up to the officers of the law
upon the morrow, as being concerned in a fearful plot that tomorrow
will make the ears of all England tingle.
"Dost thou stare at that? hast thou indeed heard aught of it? There
have been whispers abroad; but the matter hath been kept wondrous
close. Cuthbert Trevlyn has by his hardihood, his curiosity, and
his fidelity to friends, who are no true friends to him, placed
himself in jeopardy. He ought to be in hiding now; for if upon the
morrow the name of Trevlyn gets noised abroad, there will be scant
mercy shown him by the judges of this land."
"Cuthbert a prisoner! Cuthbert delivered up to judgment!" cried
Jacob, aghast. "What meanest thou, woman? What hath he done?"
"He bath done no evil; but he hath shown himself imprudent and
reckless. He has been seen in company he ought to have fled; he has
visited places against which he was warned. Tyrrel knows this.
Tyrrel knows how to turn to his advantage everything of like
nature. Tyrrel will give him up at the moment when hue and cry is
being made for all concerned in this matter. He will give him up,
and men will bear witness where and how he was seized, where and
how he has been seen before this. Men's minds will be all aflame
with rage and fear. The wildest tale will obtain credence, and
there be nothing so wild in what they may truly say of Cuthbert
Trevlyn. The Tower gates will close upon him, and they will only
open to him when he is led forth to die. Have I not lived long
enough to know that? If he he not saved tonight, nothing can avail
to save him afterwards."
Jacob felt a strange thrill run through him at these words,
"And why dost thou tell me this, of all men, woman? What can I do
to save him?"
He saw that she had raised her face as if to strive to scan the
expression on his; but the darkness foiled her, neither could he
see aught but the gleam of her dark eyes.
"I come to thee because time presses, and I know not where else to
turn. Thou hast been his friend before; wilt thou play a friend's
part now, even if it be fraught with peril?"
Jacob paused a few seconds before replying, and then said simply,
"What can I do?"
"I will tell thee," answered Esther, speaking rapidly. "Cuthbert
Trevlyn lies bound in a house not far away. Tomorrow, so soon as
the news of the plot is noised abroad, and all is in commotion to
discover the conspirators, he will be delivered up to those who are
searching for these; and if thou knewest as much as I, thou wouldst
know that nothing then can save him. But there be yet twelve hours
before this can happen, and if he can be rescued within those
twelve hours, and lodged with me in my house at Budge Row, I will
undertake to hide him so well till all hue and cry be past and over
that none shall find him; and before the glad Yuletide season has
come to rejoice men's hearts, he shall be free to go where he will
and show his face with the best of them."
This and much more did the eager gipsy pour into Jacob's astonished
ears as he stood in the shadow of the deep porch. Every detail of
the capture was made known to him, the whole plot laid bare, as she
had heard it from the lips of the men who had borne Cuthbert
ashore, and had then been so cunningly plied with heating liquor by
the astute old woman that they had babbled freely of those very
things that Tyrrel would fain have had held secret as the grave, at
least for twenty-four hours longer.
Jacob listened, and as he listened his mind was strangely stirred.
Here was his rival in deadly peril of his life; and if Cuthbert
were once to be removed from his path, had not Cherry almost
promised, in time, to be his wife? And had he not done all he knew
to warn Cuthbert from just those friendships and associations which
had ended by placing him in this terrible peril? Could anything
more be looked for from him? What did this strange woman think that
he could accomplish?
Cuthbert was truly his friend and comrade. He had proved it once by
risking his life to aid and abet him. But now what could he do? And
surely in these perilous times, when all men knew they must walk
warily, it behoved him to take heed to his steps.
"And what can I do?" he asked, as the woman paused.
"Art thou willing to strive to save him at some peril to thyself?"
Jacob paused for a full minute. A host of tumultuous feelings
rushed and surged through his brain. A thousand conflicting
impulses swayed him as he revolved the situation with all the
rapidity of quickened thought.
It was but a minute, yet it seemed like an hour to him before he
placed his hand upon that of the eager woman and answered steadily:
"I am willing."
She clutched his hand and held it fast.
"My heart did not deceive me. I knew that thou wert a true man.
Jacob Dyson, listen to my words, and take good heed to them, and I
will strive so to work that no harm shall befall thee, albeit I may
not deny that thou mayest stand in some jeopardy. Take and put on
this long cloak that I carry beneath my arm; wrap it well about
thee, and turn up its collar that it hide well thy face. Pull thy
hat down over thy eyes--so. And now take this ring and put it upon
thy finger. I have told thee where Cuthbert Trevlyn is lodged this
night. Go to the house and ask speech of Master Dibbler. When thou
seest him, show him that ring, and tell him that Esther, the wise
woman, has sent thee with it, and that she desires him to let thee
have a brief interview alone with his prisoner, who has something
to say to thee for me of the utmost value to all. Show not thy
face, show only the ring, and unless I be greatly deceived, he will
take thee to the prisoner forthwith, and lock thee up together
alone. The rest thou canst almost divine. Thou must lose no time,
but cut the cords that bind him, wrap him in this cloak--ye are
much of a height--and so muffled he may well pass out in the
darkness unheeded. Thou must stay behind in the prison bound as he
was bound. In the morning thou wilt be given over to the officers
of the law; for I misdoubt me much that Dibbler will ever find out
the trick that has been played upon him. He never saw Cuthbert
Trevlyn before, and I trow he has scarce observed what manner of
man he is. He will deliver thee up for one Cuthbert Trevlyn, taken
in the act of fleeing to the house where the conspirators are known
to lodge.
"But I trow that thy father's solid weight and Esther's acuteness
can soon serve to set thee at liberty. It will be an easy task to
show to all the world that thou art Jacob Dyson, a peaceable
citizen, and that thou hast been wrongly apprehended in the place
of another. Thou wilt be able to prove that at the hour men say
they found thee in that dark garden thou wast in thy father's or
thine uncle's house. Thy captors will be confused, enraged,
bewildered, and will have to explain how they come to be striving
to pass off Jacob Dyson as an evil doer. I trow well we can turn
the tables upon them.
"Art thou willing to run some small peril for the sake of serving
one who has called thee friend?"
And Jacob, with scarce a moment's pause, replied once again, "I am
willing."
Next day, the morning of the fifth of November, 1605, dawned clear
and still and bright. London was early astir; for was not the King
to open his Parliament that day? and were not hundreds of loyal
subjects going to line the streets to see the procession pass? If
the King were not popular, the Prince of Wales, Prince Henry, was;
and a sight was a sight to the simple folk of those days, even as
it is still.
But before long a curious change passed over the face of the London
streets. A breath--a whisper--a fleeting rumour. Men's faces grew
suddenly pale and grave. Women uttered sharp exclamations of
astonishment and fear. People pressed together into knots, asking
quick questions and awaiting the answers in breathless expectancy;
and presently the whispers became changed into open cries and
shouts. A smothered roar as of execration and menace ran through
the streets, being caught up and passed from mouth to mouth till it
was surging along like a great billow on the wide Atlantic sea.
"A Popish plot!"
"Down with the Papists!"
"Blow up the whole of the Parliament Houses--King, Lords, and
Commons!"
"Heard ye ever the like before?"
"Taken in the very act--with the barrels of gunpowder laid ready,
and the slow match in his hand!"
"A curse upon all such vile traitors!"
"A curse upon the Papists!"
"England will never know peace till she has destroyed them root and
branch!"
"Down with the whole brood of them--the vile scum of a vile race!"
These and many like cries were passing through the crowd in great,
gusty shouts. Martin Holt, standing at the door of his shop, was
just taking in the sense of what was passing, and anxiously
ruminating upon the fact that Cuthbert had not been home all the
night, when Abraham Dyson came hurrying up, his face pale with
apprehension.
"Good Master Holt, hast thou heard the news?"
"That the Papists have tried to blow up the Parliament Houses? Can
such a thing be true?"
"As true as daylight; there is no manner of doubt as to that. But I
have another trouble than that, which has been happily averted.
They tell me my boy has been arrested as one of the conspirators. I
am about to hasten down and inquire into it.
"Martin, where is Cuthbert?"
"I have not seen him since yesterday noon. What of him? Has he--the
foolish, hot-headed boy--gone and run himself into like trouble?"
"I know not--I know naught of him; only methought they might be
together, being such friends and comrades."
"They were not together yesterday. Jacob supped here with us, and
knew naught of Cuthbert then."
"Supped with you last night! that is good hearing, for men say he
was seen at Lambeth then, where the conspirators have some house or
hiding place. Come thou with me, good Martin, I prithee. I must
take solid men to witness for my lad, and bring him safely home
again. I warrant me he has had no dealings in yon foul plot! He
hates the very name of Popery and scheming."
Martin Holt lost not a moment in following his friend, who was
joined by several sober and wealthy merchants and citizens, all
deeply indignant at the insult received by their friend in this
false accusation of Jacob.
Abraham Dyson had been warned by a letter of the peril in which his
son stood--a mysteriously-worded letter, but one that was evidently
written by a friend. It advised that Dyson and his friends should
proceed at once to Westminster and Whitehall, where the excitement
would be at its height, and there they would find Jacob in custody,
and would doubtless be able speedily to obtain his release, since
he had been arrested under a misapprehension.
Whoever had written these words had plainly known the truth; for
when the city men had almost fought their way through a howling and
wildly excited mob, they found Jacob, bound and guarded, being just
led before some of the King's counsellors under the name of
Cuthbert Trevlyn.
"That man is not Cuthbert Trevlyn," shouted old Abraham, forgetting
all but the fact that he saw his son in dire and deadly peril.
"This is a quiet and peaceable Protestant citizen. Here am I with
friends ready to testify the same. This is nothing but another vile
Papist plot, conceived to strive to do to death good, peaceable
citizens of contrary faith, while they escape the doom their
traitorous villainy deserves!"
This astute form of vindication roused another clamour from the
crowd. There was not the smallest difficulty in proving Jacob's
identity, in establishing his innocence and obtaining his release.
Those in authority saw at once that it was one of those innumerable
cases of mistaken identity, and did not even care to waste time
over a close inquiry into circumstances; whilst the bystanders were
raving in indignant sympathy, perfectly convinced that it was all
the work of the conspirators themselves, to try to throw their own
guilt upon the innocent, and by no means sure that their own turn
might not come next.
When Jacob was free, he turned to the King's counsellors and said:
"If it please you gentlemen to fall upon and make away with a
notable band of outlaws and robbers, who have long made the terror
of the southern roads, they be all beneath your very hand
today--gathered together in an old barge not far above Lambeth,
where they be waiting the issue of this day's work, knowing far
more about it than peaceable and well-minded men should do. Tyrrel
is the name of the leader, and he and the best part of his band
will hold high revel there this night. They will fall an easy prey
in your hands if it please you to send and take them."
The crowd shouted in delight. There was no love lost between the
citizens of London and those freebooters who made all travel so
perilous, and the name of Tyrrel was widely known and widely
feared. The counsellors conferred together awhile and asked many
questions of Jacob, and then they released him with courteous words
of regret, intimating that if good came of this hunt after the
outlaws he should not lose his reward.
His father lost no time in getting him safely home, and questioning
him closely as to how he came to find himself in such a
predicament; but all he answered was that he and Cuthbert had been
about a good deal together, and that they had been mistaken for one
another. As for Cuthbert, he was safe enough, but would remain in
hiding for some few weeks. He was innocent of all complicity in the
plot; but his carelessness had caused him to be suspected of some
knowledge of it, and suspicion at a moment of popular frenzy was
almost as fatal as actual guilt. When the real culprits had been
discovered and had paid the penalty of their crime, smaller persons
would be safe once more. Silence and obscurity were the safest
shields for the present, and to no living soul did he reveal the
secret of Cuthbert's hiding place.
London was soon ringing with the news of the death or capture of
the plotters of the Gunpowder Treason, as it quickly began to be
called; and those interested in the matter heard with satisfaction
that Tyrrel and his band had been surprised, and all upon the barge
had been either apprehended or slain. Tyrrel had died sword in
hand, as became a man of his calling, and the few who had escaped
to their old haunts had warned their comrades there, who had fled
the south country forthwith, and were scattered no man knew
whither.
Only to one person did Jacob presently tell the whole story of that
strange night when he set out to rescue Cuthbert from dire peril,
and that person was his cousin Keziah. The tale aroused her deepest
interest, and from that moment Jacob became to her a hero as well
as an idol. The honest youth had never been idolized before--never
in his wildest moments had he hoped to rise to the level of a hero;
and there was something so wonderful in finding himself so regarded
that it began to have a softening and even an elevating effect upon
him, and to draw forth an answering admiration and love.
The end of it was that before the Yuletide season had come, he went
blushing to Martin Holt to ask for the hand of his second daughter
Keziah in marriage instead of that of Cherry, whose heart had from
the first been given elsewhere; and it was arranged that the
marriage should take place almost at once, for Jacob pleaded he had
waited long enough for his wife, and Keziah's only wish was to
please her future lord and master.