HOW I LEFT BEDFORD
If ever a man worked quickly and silently it was I. In less time than it
takes me to tell I had thrown Black Ben's saddle across his back and
buckled the girths thereof. As the saddle-bags contained nought of
value, I had no trouble with them, and before a minute had passed away
the bridle was around my horse's head.
"Come, my boy," I whispered, "there is a hard gallop before you, so we
must haste."
Whether he understood me or no I dare not say, but he whinnied as though
he knew my will, and followed my lead into the yard. I had opened the
gate on entering, and it had struck me, even as I had done this, how
easy it would have been for a horse-thief to enter the stable and take
whatever nag he pleased, as far as the ostler was concerned. Not that I
troubled about Black Ben, for no man but myself had been on his back
since he was foaled, neither, for that matter, dare any man do this. For
while he was obedient to my hand, and was as gentle as a lamb with me,
he would not suffer another to mount him. In truth, the ostler was
afraid of him when I brought him in, neither would Black Ben have
allowed him even to bring his corn had I not spoken to him, and bidden
him be quiet. I had no fear, therefore, that any man would steal him.
Thus when I unfastened the stable gate with so much ease, I had no fear
that I should not find him waiting for me.
As I led him out into the yard Black Ben pricked up his ears, as though
he heard strange sounds, and on seeing this my heart sank in my shoes,
for I heard a number of people running, and as far as I could judge
they were coming towards the inn.
"Where is he? Is he gone?"
"Where is who gone?"
This question was asked by some one who stood by the front door of the
inn.
"The young stranger from London."
"Why, what hath he done?"
"Spirited away Master Leslie's daughter. Where is he?"
"In bed hours ago, I expect. He drank nought, but just listened to what
the rest were saying."
"Hath he paid his count?"
"Nay. He hath had nought but boiled beef for his supper, and a pint of
ale to wash it down. That is but a little matter. Then when he hath paid
for his bed and breakfast, he will owe me but a crown."
"But is he in bed?"
"Nay, I know not. This is not a time to know whether a man be in bed or
no. Every man hath desired to drink the king's health, and so I have
e'en been kept busy drawing ale. But I will send and find out."
"Ay, send and find out. But did you not see him go away with Master
Sturgeon?"
"That did I not. Have I not told you that I have been over-busy
to-night?"
"Well, he must be found. It is he who hath spirited away Master Leslie's
daughter."
"Nay, man, how could he do that?"
"He wellnigh killed Master Sturgeon, locked him in the county gaol, took
his keys, and liberated the maid. I tell you he hath done this."
"A pretty cock-and-bull story!"
"But I tell you he hath. One of the turnkeys was found sober enough to
unlock the governor's door, and after he woke him, Master Sturgeon told
the turnkey that he had been imprisoned by the young stranger from
London."
"Say that Queen Mary hath come to life again. I tell you, you be all too
drunk to know the truth of this."
"Not so, Master Jiggins; we have been drinking as men should, but we be
not so drunk as that. Besides, Master Fulton--the town clerk, saw a man
and a woman together not far from the gaol, but he did not think it
could be Master Leslie's daughter, because the man claimed to be the
friend of Sir William Bilton, and, as you know, Sir William despises
Master Leslie as every Quaker rascal should be despised."
At this moment some one must have spoken to Master Jiggins from within,
for I heard him say, "The chambermaid hath it that no one is in the
young stranger's bedchamber."
"Then hath he escaped. But we must find him. The town clerk hath it that
ten guineas will be given to him who will lay hands on him."
"But where is the warrant for this?"
"Master Fulton's word is enough warrant, Master Jiggins. But stay, he
hath a horse. Is the horse in the stable?"
At this I knew that what I did must be done quickly. I was therefore on
Black Ben's back before they could enter the yard by the door of which I
had been hiding while they were speaking.
"Here he is!" cried the man who had been chief spokesman, and he made a
dash at the horse's head.
"At him, my boy!" I cried, and the faithful animal darted at the fellow
with open mouth.
In spite of themselves the crowd made way for me as I dashed through.
Partly, I suspect, because they were not sure who I was, and partly
because Black Ben careered so wildly that no man dared to approach him.
"Your count, you blackguard, your count!" I heard Master Jiggins say,
who evidently cared more about that than the recapturing of Mistress
Constance. Indeed, I heard in after days that Master Jiggins had a warm
affection for Master Leslie, and rejoiced that she had escaped from the
hands of the drunken governor.
I threw him a couple of crowns as I dashed away.
"That is double what you would have asked, Master Jiggins," I cried, and
then I laughed aloud, for the whole pack of them--and there must have
been at least twenty of them--stood open mouthed even while I rode away.
Never did I realize how silly a number of drunken men could be, and how
easy one who had kept his head clear could deal with them. Through the
whole night I had worked my will because of the king's command that
every man should drink his health, and now at the last I rode away
unscathed, having accomplished the thing I had come to Bedford to
perform.
It was no wonder, therefore, that I should laugh. The spirit of
adventure was hot within me, and now that I sat upon Black Ben's back, I
knew that unless they had firearms no man could harm me. For although he
had travelled from London to Bedford that day, I knew that now he had
had a few hours' rest and a good feed of corn, he could do the whole
journey back again and be none the worse for it. Moreover, I doubted if
there was a horse in Bedford which could overtake me.
"After him! after him!" I heard some one shout. "He hath flouted us, and
laughed in our faces."
Then I heard a louder cry, followed by a silence as though some one in
authority had come upon the scene. I longed to shout back, so as to put
them upon a false track, but reflected that the least said was the
soonest mended, so I gave Black Ben rein, and before long was out of
both sight and hearing of Bedford town.
Had I known then that I should soon see Bedford again under different
circumstances, I do not think I should have been so light of heart. But
coming events do not always cast their shadows before them, in spite of
old women's wisdom; and so, feeling my good horse beneath me, and seeing
the hedges fly by me as he dashed along the road, I felt that I had
nought to fear.
Besides, I had succeeded far beyond my expectations. I felt sure that
Mistress Constance was safe, for I knew that she was one who spoke not
lightly, and as I remembered what she told me in the prison I knew that
she was even then in some secret hiding-place, watched over by a
faithful servant, and that perhaps even her father knew not what had
become of her.
[Illustration: "I gave Black Ben rein, and before long was out of both
sight and hearing of Bedford Tower."]
As may be imagined, I rode straight towards London. Had it been safe I
think I should have stayed near Bedford, so that I might in case of need
have rendered help to Mistress Constance. But I reflected that I should
do more harm than good by staying there, and in spite of passing doubts
I felt sure that she was safe. Moreover, London was the place I desired
to be in. It would be difficult for any man from Bedford to find me
there, and I had plans in my mind which I hoped would forward the
schemes which had been formulating there. I also wanted to see my father
again, and to know what he had been doing since we parted at Canterbury.
I had not long left Bedford before morning began to dawn, and by the
time I had reached the town of Hitchin it was broad daylight. Much as I
desired to rest here, both for the sake of Black Ben as well as myself,
I rode straight on, barely entering the town, but taking a narrow and
somewhat unfrequented road instead. Not a soul did I meet, and this
pleased me much, because, in case of pursuers, no one would be able to
give information. When I had covered half the distance between Hitchin
and St. Albans, I stopped by a wayside inn for an hour, keeping a sharp
look-out on the road all the while. By noon I had reached St. Albans,
but I did not stay here, pushing on instead to the town of Barnet, where
I deemed myself safe from pursuit. Moreover, having once arrived at
Barnet, I found the roads so full of travellers, who were on their way
to London to join in the revels, as well as others coming from them,
that my presence could not call for any comment. Nevertheless, I was
very thankful when I reached the _Virgin Queen_, an inn close by St.
Paul's Cross, where I gave my horse in charge of Caleb Bullen, an
old-Ptime and faithful servitor of my father's.
I spent two days in London trying to find my father, as well as taking
part in the festivities which were held, but although I went everywhere
that the public gathered, never once did I catch a glimpse of my father,
neither did I meet with any man who had seen aught of him. I concluded
therefore that he had again returned home, and had settled down to the
old quiet life. Much as I wanted to see him I deemed it wise not to go
thither. First, because if any at Bedford had by any means whatsoever
become acquainted with my name, they might place watchers there; and
second, because I knew that by going home I should put myself outside
the possibility of hearing whatever news might be stirring. I therefore
counted the crowns which I still possessed, and, finding that I had
enough for my needs, I remained at the _Virgin Queen_, and partook of
the good fare which Caleb Bullen provided.
For a week London town was a scene of constant gaiety, for although the
great rejoicing took place on the day when the king rode into London, it
took the people a full week to settle down to the ordinary course of
life. The playhouses which Oliver Cromwell had closed were all open,
while seemingly all traces of the old Puritan life which had grown up
under the great Protector were swept away in a day. Laws were relaxed,
and the old stern system of morals was not only broken, but laughed at
as unworthy of a free people.
It was not until the fourth day after I had come back to London that I
heard it declared that Master Leslie's daughter had escaped from prison,
and that in spite of every endeavour to discover her hiding-place, she
had not been found. It was said, moreover, that her escape had been
brought around by a friend of Master Leslie's, who had succeeded in
putting a sleeping potion in the drink of the gaolers, and had thus
succeeded in his plans.
As may be imagined, this news caused me great satisfaction, most because
Mistress Constance was still at liberty, but also because no shadow of
suspicion rested upon me. The latter conviction was, however, rudely
shaken when at the end of a week I was told that two men had been at the
_Virgin Queen_ inquiring after me.
"What were they like?" I asked of Caleb Bullen, who I knew was my
faithful friend.
"They were gaily attired, Master Roland. They wore swords by their
sides, and long feathers in their caps."
"And you took them to be men of quality?"
"Ay, I should judge so," replied Caleb thoughtfully. "They swore much,
talked much, laughed much, and drank much wine, so I judged they were of
gentle blood. They mentioned great names with much freedom, and seemed
to know of all that was going on at Court."
"But what did they say?"
"They asked whether Master Roland Rashcliffe was living at the _Virgin
Queen_; whereupon I answered that you did, and that you were a good
customer, seeing you ate your victuals, drank your ale, and paid your
count without grumbling. Then they asked how long you had been staying
here, and I told them since the day of the coming of the king. Upon that
they said they would call again this evening at six by the clock, and
would I tell you that they would deem it polite of you not to go out at
that hour, as they would come on an affair of importance?"
This, as may be imagined, set me to pondering gravely, but after careful
consideration, and asking Caleb Bullen many questions, I came to the
conclusion that they could have nought to do with the folks at Bedford.
I determined, therefore, that I would be in the inn at the time
mentioned, wondering all the time what they wanted of me.
The clock at St. Paul's Cross had scarcely chimed six when I saw two
young men, dressed with much richness, and carrying themselves with a
jaunty air, enter the hall of the inn.
"Hath Master Rashcliffe yet arrived?" one asked of Caleb Bullen.
"Ay," replied mine host, pointing to me, whereupon with a great show of
ceremony they came to me.
"Master Roland Rashcliffe," said the older of the two.
"I am Roland Rashcliffe," I replied, looking at them closely, for I was
not yet free from fears that they had heard something of my doings at
Bedford.
"We bring you greeting, Master Rashcliffe, and if it would cause you no
trouble we would see you alone in a place where we can speak without
interruption."
I therefore led the way into a room where such quietness could be found,
and then, having bid them sit down near the window, I was able to get a
better view of them. They were both young men, not, as I judged, more
than thirty years of age, and I was not long in coming to the conclusion
that Caleb Bullen had judged rightly when he said they were men of
quality. Both were very richly attired in the kind of finery which came
into vogue directly the king returned and though, as I judged, both had
been drinking much wine, they carried their wine well, and shewed no
sign of loss of sense.
"We hear you were at Dover when his Majesty landed Master Rashcliffe,
and that you impressed him favourably. It is better to be born lucky
than rich, for, by my soul, his Majesty hath had so many hangers on
since he entered his faithful London that none of us, save a very few of
his chosen ones, can get more than a nod or a wave of his hand."
"I was indeed in Dover," I replied, "and a gay sight it was."
"The king spoke graciously to you, we heard."
"I was fortunate beyond my deserts."
"Ah, say not so, say not so. Corks will swim, and those whom the gods
favour will obtain the smile of kings. We are even now here on an errand
which, if it means not royal favour, is so near to it that a man can
scarcely distinguish it from such."
Again I examined them closely, and tried to guess from whence they came
and who sent them.
"Ah, but we have come here like a couple of grooms," the spokesman of
the two went on. "But forgive us, Master Rashcliffe. Manners, like
everything else, need constant practice, and since these Dissenters and
Puritans have ruled the land, there hath been no opportunity of showing
courtesy due from one gentleman to another. To such a state hath these
rascally psalm-singing knaves brought us. Let me say, then, that the
name of my friend here is the Honourable John Burleigh, youngest son of
Lord Burleigh, while I am Stanley Carew, son of Sir William Carew, of
Cornwall."
I bowed ceremoniously, even as they had done when they told me their
names.
Upon this Master Stanley Carew looked around the room as though some one
was in hiding; then, upon being assured that we were alone, he went on--
"We have come to you from one of royal blood, Master Rashcliffe, with
royal commands."
"From the king?" I asked.
"Nay, not from the king, that is exactly, but doubtless this letter will
explain much to you."
I took the letter, and noted that the paper was emblazoned with the
royal arms. It contained only these words: "_Master Roland Rashcliffe is
commanded to appear before us to-night at Whitehall at the hour of
eight._"
The signature I could not at first make out, but on closer scrutiny I
discovered it to be signed by James, Duke of York. On lifting my eyes
from the paper, I saw that both my visitors were looking eagerly towards
me, as though they would make out what had been written to me, but,
knowing so little of them, I folded the missive and put it beneath my
doublet.
"Doubtless you have received pleasant news, Master Rashcliffe?" said
Master Carew with a meaning smile.
"News from those in high places should always be pleasant," I replied.
"By the saints, no. And truly by the look on your face I judge that joy
doth not overcome you, Master Rashcliffe. Well, what then? A man of wit
must even use it to his own advantage. Moreover, doubtless the message
is of importance, seeing we were charged to deliver it into no hands but
your own. Is there aught in the way of information we can give you,
Master Rashcliffe?"
Now this set me thinking. It became plain to me that they knew not the
contents of the letter; moreover, I judged that they sought to obtain
information concerning it, and thereby obtain power which they hoped
would be useful.
"No," I replied, "I do not know that there are any questions that I
desire to ask."
I saw the two exchange glances as I spoke, but Master Carew went on
quite glibly. "Then we shall have naught to do but take back your answer,
Master Rashcliffe."
"Were you requested to take back an answer?" I queried.
"For that matter, no, I do not think we were; still, we thought you
would doubtless desire to send a fitting reply."
"As I understand it, no reply is needed, Master Carew," I replied.
"Nevertheless, I thank you for bringing me the letter, which I will lay
deeply to heart."
After this they stayed some time, trying by many means to let drop some
hint concerning what they had brought me. But I deemed it best to keep a
still tongue, and when they presently left me, looking as I thought not
over pleased with the success of their visit, I called to mind that I
had said nothing which could in any way advantage them.
Nevertheless, the letter gave me much food for anxious thought. Why
should the brother of the king desire to see me? To answer this I cast
my mind over my adventures since I had left my father's house, but only
one event led me to connect the Duke of York with them. That, as may be
remembered, was the speech of Master Rickmore and Master Hamilton on the
night when I had been dragged from my horse when riding from Canterbury
to London. I called to mind the words of the man Hamilton, who related
to the other what he said Duke James had said to him. "_By the Holy
Virgin get hold of the young rascal. Never let him out of your sight
until you have obtained all he hath found, and know all he can tell
you._"
For a long time I sat thinking of this, and of many other things in
relation thereto, and the more I thought the more was I convinced that I
ran no little risk in obeying the Duke of York's command. On the other
hand, I could see that it would not be wise to refuse. The king's
brother was next to the king himself, and if the story of Lucy Walters
was false was the next heir to the throne. To refuse his commands,
therefore, would be nearly as bad as refusing those of the king himself.
It would moreover arouse suspicion, and might possibly lead to many
unpleasant results.
But more than all this, I longed much to know what the duke would say to
me. I desired to find out the motives which prompted him to send for me.
I did not fear danger--thoughtless youth seldom apprehends that--but I
did ardently wish to discover what was in Duke James' mind.
The clock of St. Paul's struck the hour of seven. I had not therefore a
minute to spare. It was half an hour's walk from St. Paul's Cross to
Whitehall, so I went to my bedchamber to bedeck myself in the best
finery I possessed, and ere long I was passing Fleet prison, on my way
to Whitehall.