Great Britain -- History -- Henry VII, 1485-1509 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
Accompanied by a score or more of outriders streaming water, shedding
loud curses, and flogging their tired mounts for everything that was
in them, came a great lumbering coach and six, looming gigantic as a
castle in the weird fog. As it passed where Sir Richard was lying, he
noted that its wheels were three quarters sunken in the deep mud, which
rolled off them as they turned after the manner of a miniature cataract.
"How far, sayst thou, it will be from Glasgow?" He heard a voice,
which he knew well for that of Douglas, roaring from within its depths.
"Said I not that they would be after thee, Sir Richard ... eh?" de
Claverlok observed when the young knight went back and told them what
he had seen.
They were perforce obliged to give the coach a good start, for, by
now, the mist was rapidly thinning; and they durst not put themselves
within sight of Douglas' men. Before reaching the gates of Glasgow they
divided their little party in twain. Three entering from the north,
three from the south, with an arrangement to foregather at King's Dock,
upon the River Clyde. It was decided upon that Sir Richard, having
nothing to do within the town, should make his way at once to the
harbor and seek berths on shipboard for France. Whilst de Claverlok and
Isabel, having to attend to the business of Isabel's inheritance, would
join them later at the river's side.
They were in no trouble to enter the town, and made shift to take the
narrower and less frequented streets leading to the water-front. As
they were riding through, Rocelia pointed to a fellow, garbed in the
Douglas livery, who was nailing a proclamation, writ in great, glaring
letters, against a plank fence.
It was an offer of a reward of two hundred and fifty pounds for Sir
Richard's arrest and detention; the which was followed by a neat and
accurate description of his person and apparel. Before they got to the
next corner there were a dozen idlers, with mouths agape, standing
before it and taking it in.
Knowing well that Sir Richard's chances of getting safely away were
diminishing in proportion with the number of placards that were being
then posted over the town, they made all haste to reach the river and
get safely aboard ship.
Without mishap our travelers came anon to King's Dock. Sir Richard was
most gratified to discover that there was a great ship, above which
rose three towering masts, riding at anchor in the midst of the harbor.
He gazed longingly across at her, wishing that they were all safe
bestowed upon her lofty and much ornamented poop.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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