That moment, as I stood there, was a crisis with me. My old life seemed suddenly to have drifted from me. One after another the bonds that held me to it had snapped and sundered. The pleasant 'prentice days were over. My master was in gaol, my occupation was gone, the Company from which I hoped promotion were out against me--London was no place for me now. Even my mistress frowned on me, and my sweet Jeannette, who was wont to believe in me through thick and thin, had turned away. Was it a wonder, then, if my mind turned with a swing to the only friend that was left me, or if I vowed with myself that, if Sir Ludar would have me, I would follow him wherever he should lead? My spirits rose--such is the buoyancy of youth--even as I turned and walked towards Richmond. Ten days ago I had not been my own master to follow him when he bade me. To-day, save my Queen, no man but he had a claim on me--ay, and what use had her Majesty for a villain like me who had assaulted a beadle! It was late at night when I came near Richmond. I durst not show myself in the village, but hid that night in a hut near the river, wondering how I should apprise Ludar of my presence; and ever and anon, in my weakness, asking myself how it would fare with me were I to find that he too had deserted me? All the next day I wandered about, hoping for news, but getting none. One man whom I accosted looked so hard at me when I questioned him about the Hall, that I gave him no time to answer, but slunk away to avoid him. At night, my patience came well-nigh to an end, and I resolved, come what would of it, to go to the park, if by chance I might meet Ludar there or at least send him a message. It was dark when I climbed the palings. There was little chance, unless I marched boldly to the door of the Hall, of seeing him that night, so I resolved to bide my time, and lying somewhere within view of the house, watch till he came out in the morning. I found a thick clump of bushes separated from the house by the width of a lawn. Behind these I ensconced myself, and composed my limbs as best I might to await daybreak. I was almost dozing, when I started suddenly to hear footsteps and voices not far away. Could it be he? It was too dark to distinguish anything, and as yet their voices were not near enough to detect the words. But they were coming nearer, and in a moment my suspense was at an end. It was not Ludar. "That is well," said a voice which I knew to be Captain Merriman's. "You say he knows to expect you?" "Yes, sir; I sent him word that a week hence we should join him at Milford." "Good. Then we must start to-morrow." "The men have orders to be at Maidenhead to-morrow night." "Well, now, Laker; you understand our plan. I am called hence suddenly to-morrow, to London, by the Queen's order." "Yes, sir."