Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"She must be a brave woman. Were she not the wife of such a fellow as
Denman I would strike a blow for her deliverance. Bedford Gaol is not a
hard place to get out of, for the gaoler not only loves his wine, but
will take a bribe. Besides, the woman who tried to send Monk into
eternity deserves some help. But say, what are we to do with this young
jackanapes?"
"Do you think he's dead?"
"No; he lives, although there's no knowing how much we've hurt him. We
dare not let it be known that we've had aught to do with him. Duke James
was very careful to tell us that everything must be done in secret."
"Then let him lie, while we make our way to London."
"Shall we take his money? He will think then that we are footpads."
"No, we cannot do that, badly as we need it. After all, a gentleman is a
gentleman."
"Nor his horse? It is a good one."
"Nay, that might tell tales. Besides, we are well supplied; let us on to
London. A good night's rest to you, Master Rashcliffe."
"With apologies for delay."
"And a curse upon you for not having what we wanted."
I heard them laugh as they mounted and rode away, as though they were
pleased with themselves. For some time I did not move; I thought it
would be wiser to keep up the part I had been playing, for fear they
might come back. Presently I heard the sound of horses coming towards me
from the Canterbury road, and this led me to get up with all speed, and
to call Black Ben to my side. A few minutes later I was again on
horseback, but little the worse for my happening, although sore vexed
with myself for being mastered so easily. Still, I had learnt something.
I was not the only one who was trying to obtain Lucy Walters' marriage
contract, while my father was not the only one to whom Katharine Harcomb
had spoken concerning the thing. Moreover I had been confirmed in my
information concerning the prison of Mistress Denman, neither did I fail
to take note of what was said about the gaoler.
On the whole, therefore, I was not ill-pleased with the night's events,
and possessed no very bitter feelings towards either Master Rickmore or
Master Hamilton.
Nothing of importance happened further to me that night. As I drew
nearer London, I found the people talking much about the gay doings
which were to take place when the king came back to his loyal city, as
well as the terrible punishments which would be meted out to all who in
any way took part in King Charles' death. I did not stay in London
longer than I could help, however, for, foolish as it may appear, I
determined to ride to Bedford, and if possible deliver from prison the
woman who had been my companion to Pycroft Hall but a few nights
before.
CHAPTER XIV
HOW I SAW A MAN WHO BECAME FAMOUS!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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