So he reached the gardens, but only to find that most of the company was already gone, and that, with the exception of a few revellers who would keep the night up so long as it were possible, none of the masqueraders remained. Yet, even from these he gathered enough to set his mind fairly at rest; for, happening to hear one of them speak of the "merry disturbance" which had taken place that night, and also boast somewhat loudly of how he had assisted the Jacobites in resisting the limbs of the law, he, by great suavity and apparent admiration of the speaker's prowess, managed to extract from him a more or less accurate account of what had taken place. Thus he learned that, in some way, his brother and friend had made their escape--aided, of course, by the pot-valiant hero to whom he was listening--and also that the "ladies of fashion" and the gentlemen by whom they were accompanied had also departed without molestation. "Though," continued the narrator, as he swallowed the last drop of brandy in his glass and then looked ruefully at the empty vessel, "I know not if they would have been allowed to go so freely had not I and my friend assisted in protecting them." After that Archibald withdrew, and, on foot, made his way to the City, while as he crossed London Bridge nearly two hours later--for he was weary with all that had happened that day--the sun came up and lighted with a rosy hue the Tower lying on his right hand. "Ay," he muttered. "Ay, many's the poor aching heart within your walls this morning besides the doomed Balmerino, Cromartie, and Kilmarnock--for nought can save them; thank God that some at least are free at present. But how long will they be so? How long? How long?" CHAPTER XII. HEY! FOR FRANCE. During the time which elapsed between the eventful proceedings of that day and the time when my Lord Fordingbridge--agitated by receiving no news in Cheshire from his wife--returned to London, all those whom this history has principally to deal with met together with considerable frequency.