She rose and followed. The door was shut behind her. The second man, stooping, turned the key and withdrew it. A little way down the passage with no more noise than moths--door of inner ward--through it, too, turn key and take out, find cross passage. The second man who had not spoken held the least, small light. A cresset, too, burned dimly, swinging from a beam. A man lay sleeping by the wall,--Diggory, Godfrey’s helper. It seemed that he was sleeping soundly. A turn, a wider space, and the great door and William sleeping upon a bench. Open, great door. Light showed a chain and a staple broken out of wall--open! Out of prison. Starlight--the street--soft and swift like moth and bat. Lanterns and footsteps of the watch. Press into angle of Saint Ethelred’s porch and cease to breathe while they go by! Avoid market place, cross High Street, softly, swiftly; find Saint Swithin’s Street, narrow, steeply descending toward the river. River in the ears, and the old disused water steps, and beside them a boat. Thomas Bettany’s voice saying, “_Gold and silver_,” and the man in the boat answering, “_Gold and silver in the Vineyard._ Step ye in!” Down the river, and by the house of Morgen Fay and into the widening of water that was called the Pool. There were but three men, Bettany and the man with him and he who had held the boat and who was called Diccon. The man who had opened doors sat very silent. But so were all, saying nothing, rowing silently. And Morgen Fay was still, still! Oh, the divine night air and the stars and the cool water, cool and singing! A ship rose before them. It seemed they were going there. Thomas spoke to her. “Your name is Alice now, not Morgen. Remember! Alice--Alice Dawn. This ship is the _Vineyard_ and it touches at three ports. You will be safely put ashore, and here is gold.” A purse slid into her lap. Ecstacy of freedom, air and the stars. Alice--Alice Dawn! She put her forehead upon her knees and laughed. “Oh, all of you, what will you _not_ see to-morrow! Now you have your miracle!” The ship coming closer and closer, a tall ship and making ready to sail. “Whither? And will I find Ailsa?” “I cannot tell as to that. Diccon Wright, the master there, is a helpful man. And the Saints are above us. I do not fully know,” said Thomas under breath, “what I have done!” The ship came near. “Ah, how dark it was in prison! Thank you and bless you!” Andromeda lay across the northeast, the Crown was in the west, the Swan overhead. “Ship oars,” said Diccon. “Here we are!” “You quit me now, Thomas?” “Aye. I must be at home and in bed if there come any calling!” “Are you endangered?” “No! They will call it again the devil. Where all have tender hands he is the best one to pull the nuts from the fire!” “Good-by, then. I shall bless you every day and it shall not hurt you!” “I never thought that it would, Morgen Fay.” “No. Thou’rt clean! Good-by, good-by, good-by!”