Gervase had now become the leader of the players--for a time at least. Already he had shown that faculty of quick initiative which belongs to the man of action. The others obeyed him instinctively. His swift decision, and the manner in which his deed leaped with his thought, showed them clearly enough that they would do well to follow him. Burbage was first through the window. He was a powerful and active man. He lifted out Parflete bodily and then, hoisting him on his broad shoulders, began to run with him in the direction of the horses which were tethered in the lane. It was well that the wounded actor was very light of weight. Meanwhile, the others were rendering a pretty good account of themselves. A general mêlée had ensued, in which blows were given freely and given as freely again. And in all this, Gervase was foremost. Many shrewd knocks he delivered with the butt of his weapon, and one of these undoubtedly saved Shakespeare a broken head. John Markham, the falconer, also did considerable execution with the flat of his short sword. The onfall of the players had been so swift as to take Simon Heriot’s servants by surprise. And, after all, the resistance they had to offer was not very stout. Thus those who had forced so irregular an entry were soon in excellent shape for making good their escape by way of the window through which they had come. The breach in the casement their entrance had caused was a large one. And with far less difficulty than they had reason to expect were they able to withdraw from the room. Also, they suffered no further casualty beyond a few ill-directed blows that did them little hurt. The dead man’s servants were less fortunate. Several were laid low, although none of their injuries was serious. But these early mishaps had killed any desire that might have lurked in the others to press the conflict beyond the point of discretion. No very serious effort was made to impede the flight of Gervase Heriot and his friends, whom one and all of the dead man’s household honestly believed had done his uncle to death. It was not a difficult matter for the players to reach their horses which had been left in the lane. Shakespeare, who was a good horseman, and who had contrived to be well mounted, had the wounded man lifted on to the front of his saddle. Parflete was still very weak from loss of blood and the shock of his wound. He was quite unable to take care of himself. But the playwright was full of solicitude for the young man. Also it was fortunate that they both rode light. Shakespeare, although well knit of figure, was hardly more than a ten stone man.