"And how may that be, Master Sturgeon?" I said. "Think you the king will have so little to do when he arrives at Whitehall that he will pay heed to the imprisonment of what you have called a Puritan woman?" "Surely you have not lived in London, or you would not speak so foolishly," he cried. "Suppose, I say, suppose she had killed General Monk, would the king have been welcomed back? I tell you no. Therefore will the king bear in mind all who have had aught to do with the capture of such a one." "Ay, but," I urged, "the governor of the gaol is not the constable who caught her coming hither?" "Again you speak like a fool, young master, or you would know that I am a man of authority in Bedford. Moreover, was it not I who had Master John Leslie watched? Did I not note his looks of uneasiness, and did not the inquiries I made concerning him lead me to place men along the roads to London? Ah, but it was by the merest shave that they took her. For what was she dressed like, think you? As a witch? Nay, but as a saucy young springald. Moreover, she carried things with a high hand, and threatened Jonathan Wild, the biggest constable in Bedford, to horsewhip him. But her face betrayed her, for one of the men, although she hath lived much in London, and is but little known in Bedford, recognized her in the moonlight, and then having suspicions, pulled off her headgear, whereupon her hair fell down her back." At this there was much laughter, and many coarse jests. "Ah, well," went on Master Sturgeon, "I never did like Master Leslie, for he sent many a good fellow to Bedford Gaol, simply because they were not straightlaced Puritans like himself. Things are changed now, and mayhap that I shall have even him under lock and key." "How did she get her horse and her attire?" I asked. "That I cannot tell," he replied, "but I doubt not it will all come out when she is tried." "When and where is the trial to be?" "In London, I do hear. This, I think, is a shame, for why should all the fun be in London. Still the deed was done there, and mayhap the king, who loves a pretty face, may wish to be at the trial." Although much more was said, there was little of importance; moreover I found that men were too eager to talk of the events which were to take place in London because of the king's coming, to pay much heed to the woman who had attempted the life of General Monk, wife to Sir Charles Denman though she might be. Still I kept in the room until wellnigh midnight, when Master Sturgeon rose to go. I was told that he boasted of being able to carry more drink than any man in Bedford, nevertheless I saw that he staggered somewhat on leaving the inn. As he put on his hat a plan was suddenly born in my mind, and without weighing its value I followed him into the street, determining to make my first attempt that very night to obtain the liberty of the woman into whose company I had been so strangely thrown. CHAPTER XV MASTER STURGEON, THE GAOLER