The man's tone changed in a moment. "I hope no offence, young master," he said humbly. "Will you be pleased to pay my humble respects to Sir William, and to tell him that I only seek to do my duty?" "That is very well," I answered in a tone of offended dignity. "I find no fault with a zealous officer of the town, nevertheless I thought a man in your position could distinguish between a drunken brawler and a man of quality." "I crave your pardon, worshipful sir," he said, "but I have had much trouble to-night, for nearly every constable and night watchman is drunk. Therefore, although there is much licence at such a time, yet for the good name of the town I must e'en do my duty." "Ay, I see that, and I will at the first opportunity I have tell Sir William what a faithful town clerk he has. Moreover, you may not take a crown amiss with which to drink the king's health, also that of Sir William." A moment later we were left alone again, and then we walked slowly down the street. Had I been alone I think I should have hastened, but my companion pressed my arm, and bade me in a whisper to go slowly. I heard the two men talking together, as though they doubted who we were, but presently they decided to go on their way, and great was my delight as I heard their retreating footsteps. A minute later we reached the river, which was crossed by means of a roughly built bridge. I noted that the river ran slowly here, and was perchance a little more than forty yards wide. On our left was a dark building, which looked grim and forbidding, standing as it did upon the river bank. "That is the town gaol," said my companion. "I hoped when I was taken that I should have been imprisoned there. Then would I have escaped two days ago." "How?" I asked. "I would have crept out by one of the windows, and swum across the river," she answered. "But how could you have crept out by the windows?" "There are those within that gaol who would do aught for me," she answered. This she said as we crossed the bridge, eagerly looking around her as she spoke. We still kept straight on, perhaps a hundred yards or more, when she suddenly took a turning to the right. "And where go we now--Lady Denman?" I asked. She gave a start, and then stood still as I mentioned her name. "Nay, not that," she said almost hoarsely. "It is not easy to speak to you unless I call you by your name," I said. "Nay, but call me not by his name. He hath been the cause of all our troubles!" She said these words with such bitterness of voice that she might not have been the same woman who had been speaking a few moments before. "But he is your husband," I said almost brutally. She hesitated a few seconds, and then, still holding my arm, she walked by my side along the road.