“We will say nothing of this to any,” he had said, “but will keep the matter closely to ourselves, for the folk yonder have long ears and can hear our whispers here. Some time before midnight we will even go down to the Waterside together, and as you are a brave man and a courageous, there is one old man who will pray for your safe keeping and deliverance. I shall have the epistle writ out, and I pray God Kirke may be the first to read it.” Gervase´s preparations for his adventure were easily made. He had left a letter in which he had made a disposal of his effects, in case anything happened to him, and had written another which was addressed to Dorothy Carew. The only weapon he had provided himself with was a small hunting knife that had belonged to Macpherson, which he hoped he would not require to use but which might prove useful in an emergency. There had been some rain during the day, and the night promised to be dark and cloudy. So long as there was no moonlight there was a possibility of his making the attempt with a reasonable chance of success, but should the moon show herself he could hardly hope to remain undiscovered. The time hung heavily on his hands while he waited for the hour when he was to meet Walker, and then he found himself trembling with feverish impatience. Walker, however, insisted on his taking supper before he left, and it was weeks since Gervase had seen so plentiful a meal spread before him. The old colonel watched him with a serious admiration as he made huge inroads on the food, and when Gervase had finished, he went to a cupboard and produced a flask. “You have had the last of the meat,” he said, taking the cork out of the bottle, “and now you are going to have the last of the drink. There are two glasses left, and you shall have both of them. Whenever we meet again, if Heaven pleases, we will crack a bottle together. I love a brave lad, and if age had not taken the oil out of my joints, I should have liked nothing better than to bear you company. Now drink that off for it will keep you warm in the water.” Going down Ship Quay Street together, they passed through the gate and came out upon the quay. The night was very dark and a slight drizzling rain had begun to fall. On both sides of the river they could see many lights, some moving, some stationary, and could hear the sound of voices calling and answering from the other bank. But the river was flowing darkly at their feet, and a night better suited for his purpose Gervase could hardly have found. When he had divested himself of his boots coat and vest, he stuck the short knife in his belt, and fastened round his waist with a strip of canvas the piece of bladder in which the letter from Walker was rolled. “God bless you, my lad, and send you safe back to us. I feel even like the patriarch when he would have offered up his son, but here too, it is my trust the Lord will not require a life.”