"Rise up, Mr Winter!" he cried excitedly. "Rise and come along to Essex House, for I am going to call upon my Lord Northumberland. The matter is discovered, by a letter to my Lord Monteagle." Thomas Winter sat up in his bed. "Go back, Mr Wright," said he, "and learn what you can about Essex Gate." Off dashed Christopher, and Winter dressed hastily. He was scarcely ready when his friend returned. "Surely, all is lost!" cried Wright, "for Leyton is got on horseback at Essex door, and as he 'parted, he asked if their Lordships would have any more with him, and being answered `No,' is rode as fast up Fleet Street as he can ride." "Go you, then, to Mr Percy," urged Winter, "for sure it is for him they seek, and bid him be gone. I will stay and see the uttermost." Away went Wright again, and Winter followed more slowly. He found the Court gates "straitly guarded," so that he was not allowed to enter. Then he turned and went down towards the Houses of Parliament, and in the middle of King Street he found the guard standing, who would not let him pass. As Winter passed up King Street again, Silence Abbott came out of her door, having just published herself for the day, and accosted Rachel, who was busy with the doorsteps. "Why, whatever's all this to-do?" said she, in considerable dismay. Had she been wasting daylight and precious material for gossip, by lying in bed half-an-hour longer than usual? "Why, there's a treason discovered," said Rachel, wringing out her flannel. "Lack-a-day! what manner of treason?" "Biggest ever was heard on. The King and all th' Lords o' th' Parliament to be blown up." Winter hesitated no more. Evidently all was known. To save himself--if it might be--was the only thing now possible. He went straight to the livery-stable where he kept his horse, mounted, and set forth for Dunchurch, where the hunting-party was to meet. If all were lost in London, it was not certain that something might not be retrieved in the country. It was a grievous blunder, and grievously they answered it. Had they instantly gone on board the vessel which lay moored in the river, ready to carry Fawkes away when the mine was fired, and set sail for Flanders, every one of them might have fulfilled the number of his days. It seems almost as if their eyes were holden, that they should go up and fall at the place appointed. The first to fly had been Catesby and John Wright. Keyes followed at eight o'clock, going straight to Turvey; Rookwood at eleven, overtaking Keyes three miles beyond Highgate, and Catesby and Wright at Brickhill. As they rode together, Wright "cast their cloaks into a hedge to ride more speedily." Percy had spent the night in the City, but Christopher Wright soon found him, and they galloped after their colleagues. At Hockliffe Percy's servant Story met them with fresh horses, and overtaking the others further on, they at last reached Ashby Saint Ledgers in safety.