This bold scheme began to exert a strange fascination over him. The more thought he gave to it the stronger grew its hold upon him. Certainly it must prove very hazardous; it was the wild design of a desperate man, but it appealed to his mood. When he came to confide the plan to his comrade she too approved it. To Anne it opened up a new world of possibility. The spirit of desperation urging her, she could see no reason why they should not break into the house of Simon Heriot in the middle of that night and seek the means to carry them into safety across the seas. Yes, let that be their project! Both saw, however, that one fatal drawback confronted them. To put such a design into execution it was of vital importance that they should go armed. Thus they now regretted bitterly that the silver-hilted dagger was no longer in their keeping. It would be sheer folly to present themselves unarmed at the house of Simon Heriot. A weapon of some kind must be procured if the project was to have any chance of success. Gervase hoped that, with a little luck, he might be able to barter his flute for a pistol but, unhappily, by so doing he was likely to deprive them of their sole means of getting food. This question of arms was a sore problem. However, they decided to take a night’s rest before coming to grips with it in earnest. And they may have been moved to this wise course by the fact that the house of Simon Heriot lay out upon the Banbury road, and that in order to come to it, it would be necessary to retrace their steps and pass through the town of Oxford. They bought a bowl apiece of bread and milk of a kindly farmer’s wife, and this made them a delicious supper. And for the sum of twopence they were allowed to lie snug in the barn during the night. And as they lay thus, discussing the prospects of the strange hazard upon which they were determined to embark on the morrow, a new expedient came into the mind of Gervase. Ever since their meeting that morning with the man at the Crown, the thoughts of Gervase strayed continually toward him. He was not a man to forget. And now as Gervase lay in the straw in the darkness considering what must be done, his mind reverted to him again. All his instincts seemed to tell him that this was an honest man; moreover a man capable of rare kindness and instant sympathy; a man whom it would seem possible for even a couple of hard-pressed fugitives to trust implicitly. Yes, let them return to Oxford to the Crown. Let them seek out this man Shakespeare and tell him as much of their story as might serve to win his help. As Gervase lay that night he took a resolve to do this. He would confide in the man as far as might be necessary. Perchance this friendly player might approve sufficiently this hazardous excursion to the house of Simon Heriot to provide him with a weapon to serve the occasion.