"Indeed," said I, "I--I am glad to meet you again, but--but (how I
stammered), just now I am looking for my friend."
"What! Have you not done your errand?" said he. "You told me it was in
Oxford."
"It was. I have done it--but I left a friend here. Mine host," said I,
turning to the man of the place, "is my comrade astir yet?"
The host crammed his apron in his mouth to keep in a laugh.
"Astir! Sir Ludar astir! I warrant thee half the bucks in Shotover
Wood are astir too before now."
"What!" said I, my face falling suddenly, "is he gone then?"
"An hour since; and by your leave, young sir," added mine host, "I would
take leave to remind your grandeur that the score of last night's
supper, and a trifle my lord took for his breakfast, with the shoeing
and meat of the horse, and the price of your night's lodging, awaits
your noble acquittance."
"Gone!" cried I, not heeding all the rest. "And did he leave aught for
me?"
"I doubt not he left his blessing, but nothing else."
"But my cloak, he had my cloak."
"If he have it not still, ay, and the nag too, it will be because he has
met a stronger man than ever I saw yet on earth," said mine host.
"But the cloak!" roared I, "that cloak had papers in it; it was--"
Here the Bishop's man put down his mug and pricked up his ears.
"Which way did he go?" cried I. "Saddle me my horse. I must overtake
him or all is lost."
"Papers?" said the Bishop's man. "What sort of papers, prithee?"
"I know not," said I. "Oh, that cursed cloak!"
"Harkee, my lad," said the man sternly, "answer me two questions, if you
will."
He laid hold of my arm, and looked so menacing that I was fairly taken
aback.
"And if I do not," said I, as I began suddenly to see what it all led
to.
"Then in the Queen's name I shall know what to do with you," said he,
beckoning to his three men, who rose and approached me.
I was fairly in a corner now, for a man who held the Queen's warrant was
not one lightly to be resisted. Yet what could I tell him?
"Let me hear your questions," said I, as civilly as I could, and edging
a little towards the door, "perhaps I can answer them."
"That's a wise lad," said he, mollified, "I know you are but a tool--
men, stand back there--I blame you not for doing your duty, but you must
tell me here, the name of the man, your master, who sent you this
errand, and the name of him to whom you bore it."
"I can tell you neither," said I.
He turned to his men, but before they could rise, I had rushed to the
door and was outside. A key stood in the outside of the lock, which
mine host used to turn and take with him when business called him to
leave his inn empty. I had just time to turn this and vault on one of
the three horses, when the window was flung open and the leader of the
band sprang on to the casement.
But he was too late; for before he could level his musket at me, I was
twenty yards away at a gallop, leading by the bridle the two spare
horses which had stood at the door beside the one I rode.
The shot, badly aimed, whistled past my ear, and served to urge on the
horses to a wilder pace, so that, before even the party was outside,
hallooing after me, I was a furlong off, plunging deep into the wood.
I had no time to think if I had done well or ill, or what the upshot of
it all was like to be. Time enough for that when I had won clear. The
led horses, after their first fright, jibbed at the reins and struggled
to get free. So, as they checked my speed, I let them go, and saw them
plunge away among the trees, no easy capture for their lawful owners.
Meanwhile, I dashed forward whithersoever the horse took me. I
remember, even amid my panic, what a delight it was to sit astride of so
noble a beast, who seemed to scorn my weight, and skim the earth as
lightly as if he carried a child. Had it been my own sorry nag I should
long since have been by the heels.
Once clear of the wood I suddenly sighted Oxford towers to my left, and
found myself on the road by which I had passed but an hour ago with the
angry Welshman. I had forgotten him, and 'twas well for him that I had.
I had no mind to put myself again within reach of his worship, the Mayor
of Oxford, and his merry men; so I tugged my right rein and kept my
horse's head turned to the wooded hills northward. There, thought I, I
can at least find time to draw breath and determine what must be done
next. To the forest I sped, then, marvelling at the pace of my brave
horse, and wondering if the Bishop's man was yet on the road at my
heels.
On the steeper ground my horse slackened a bit, but I urged him forward
till we were deep in the wood, with a choice of four or five paths, any
of which led, heaven knows where. Here I let him stand and get his
wind, while I turned over in my mind what should be my best course.
While I was debating, to my surprise, my horse pricked up his ears and
gave a loud neigh, which was answered from no great distance by another.
At first I supposed his companions had followed us, or that our
pursuers were nearer than I reckoned for. But, on listening, I
perceived that the strange horse was ahead of us, not behind. I
therefore moved slowly forward in the direction of the sound. What was
my surprise when I saw my own poor nag tethered to a tree, with my
cloak--the cause of all this trouble--laid carelessly over his back.
Master Penry's wild pupil was nowhere near, yet I scarce gave him a
thought at the time, so overjoyed was I to recover my long-lost prize.
I sprang from my borrowed horse, letting him stray where he would, and
fell upon the garment like a mother on her lost child, except that I,
having taken it to my arms, whipped out my knife and proceeded to rip it
up from top to bottom.
Master Penry had been right! The cloak was stoutly padded with printed
sheets, of which I took out fully three score. They were all the same,
a short tractate of twelve pages duodecimo, set in my master's type (for
I recognised the letter and the flowered initials), and printed, there
was no doubt now, at his secret press.
The title of the tractate was "A Whip for the Bishops," and to my wrath
and confusion as I read, I found it contained wicked and scandalous
abuse of their Graces of Canterbury and London, whom it called wolves in
sheep's clothing, antichrists, and I know not what horrid names besides!
And it was to carry this wicked libel I had been sped on this journey,
decked with my brave cloak, and commended to that Welsh varlet, who, no
doubt, was the author, and counted on me as the tool to help him to
disseminate his blasphemous treason! He little knew Humphrey Dexter.
Although I had put a queen's officer in the duck-pond; although I had
assaulted a mayor; although I had defied a bishop's warrant, and made
off on a bishop's horse, I yet was a loyal subject of Her Majesty, and
hated schismatics as I hated the Pope himself. They had played me a
trick among them; I would play them one back.
So I gathered up the libels, and dropped them one and all, together with
the false lining of the coat, into the hollow of a rotten tree; where,
for all I know, they may be to this day. And if, years hence, some
lover of the curious should seek to add to the treasures of his library
a true copy of that famous lost tract, "A Whip for the Bishops," let me
tell him in his ear, the book is to be had cheap, midway across Shotover
wood, somewhere to the left of the lower path which leads to Heddendon.
Nowhere else was it ever published, to that I can vouch.
I had scarcely finished my task when I heard a whoop from among the
trees, followed immediately by the whiz of an arrow which glanced
betwixt my cheek and my shoulder, and buried its head deep in the trunk
of a near tree.
I had scarcely time to face round and draw my sword, when I perceived
coming down the glade my wild scholar with a bow in his hand, and a dead
fox on his back. He had plainly not seen who I was at first, but
recognised me as soon as I turned. He marched gravely towards me,
equally heedless of my drawn sword, and of the shaft which a moment ago
had all but taken my life.
"Is it you?" said he; "I took you, in your cap and gown, for my tutor."
"You all but killed me, too," said I, wrathfully.
"Ay, it was a bad shot. Yet, had you not moved your head, it would have
spiked you by the ear to that tree. What brings you here?"
I was taken aback by the coolness of the fellow, who talked about
spiking me by the ear as if I had been the fox he carried on his back.
"Marry," said I, "you should know what brings me here. My horse and my
cloak, they brought me here, sirrah."
"Nay, they brought me here; but I am not sorry to see you. I was about
to return to the inn, to look for you."
I flushed to the roots of my hair, to think how readily I had set this
man down as a runaway thief. Never was a face less deceitful, or a
manner less suspicious; and I, if I had not been a fool, might have
known as much.
"I did you an injustice," said I, returning my sword, "I believed you
had given me the slip, and were--"
"A thief," said he, with a scornful curl on his lips. "I thank you,
master 'prentice."
I would sooner he had cut at me with his dirk. But further parley was
ended by a sudden noise of horns and a tramp of horses close by.