Parslow, the landlord, who had known Squire Neal, of Chinnor, for many years, gladly undertook to help Humphrey, and Sandy was promised work in the stableyard on the understanding that the two gentlemen he had helped so greatly should start him in life with money for his outfit. By nine o’clock, thanks to Mogg’s kindly offices, Gabriel found himself in a state of drowsy cleanliness and comfort in a great four-post bed, and when Parslow ushered his friend into the room and stayed for awhile chatting he was too blissfully sleepy to open his eyes. “Then, should there be any signs of pursuit, you will let us know,” said Humphrey, setting down his candle and pulling off his boots. “Meanwhile we’ll sleep.” “’Tis the bed on which Colonel Hampden lay the night before Chalgrove fight,” said Parslow. “Well do I remember it.” “And I’ve good cause to remember it, too, Robin, for ’twas the very night Prince Rupert’s men set our house ablaze and brought us to ruin. Well, good-night to you, and many thanks for your aid. We will be up by four, and, as you suggest, go with Jock the carrier to Henley. Once out of Oxfordshire we shall be safe. My friend sleeps already I see. Poor fellow, after lying for months on bare boards, I’ll warrant he thinks himself in clover.” They slept soundly for some three hours, then Humphrey was roused by hearing a peremptory knocking without. He started up in bed and listened; someone was going downstairs to the front entrance, and again a thundering knock descended on the door. Stealing across to the window, he looked cautiously down and descried the dark forms of four or five horsemen--there were sounds of unbolting the door, and then the question he had expected: “Have you seen a party of minstrels from Oxford pass through here?” “No, sir,” said the landlord, with truth. “Curse the fellows! How can we have missed them? Do you and a couple of men ride on, sergeant, you may yet overtake them on the London-road. Everton, you and I will get some food and a few hours’ sleep here.” “I can give you food, gentlemen, but being Christmas night we are fuller than usual,” said Parslow. “Oh, anything will do,” said the officer, dismounting. “Everton, see the horses fed and stabled while the landlord makes ready for us, it will be the quickest way in the end.” Humphrey whistled softly to himself, dismayed to think of the risk they now ran of being trapped. The notion of being taken in bed and being dragged back to Oxford to be hung was not to be borne. He groped in the dark for his clothes and hastily dressed. His companion still slept, though uneasily, now and again talking and moaning in a way which alarmed Humphrey, who thought it highly probable that the new fever had already attacked him. Presently there was a soft knock at the door and the latch was lifted by the landlord, who stole in cautiously, candle in hand.