I had thought to return under cover of darkness to the thicket on the downs where I had buried the iron box containing the deeds and other documents relating to my home. But on further consideration I came to the conclusion that 'twould be best to let the box remain till a more convenient season. So, shouldering my burden, I took a long last look in the direction of the distant ruined castle, and then set off resolutely along the southern road. CHAPTER XVI WITHOUT THE WALLS OF CARISBROOKE I TOOK up my abode in a little cottage overlooking Wootton Creek in the Isle of Wight, hard by the village of Wootton. It was a peaceful spot, where the tide of war had not swept, though near enough, 'tis true, to see the scenes of many a stern conflict in former days. On either side of the creek, well-wooded hills sloped down to the water's edge when the tide was up, or to the fringe of the mudflats when 'twas low water. Just within shelter of the land the creek was of sufficient depth to float a few fishing boats, whence a narrow, winding channel led to the blue waters of the Solent. My life, or rather existence, at Wootton was of a particularly quiet nature. I lived at peace with my neighbours, and though at first they were certainly inquisitive to the extreme, after a while they found that nothing could be obtained of my former life, and in consequence I was little troubled in that respect. I thought it advisable to adopt another name, and finally I selected that of Giles White, which seemed sufficiently common to avoid further inquiries of my antecedents. Of the events that were taking place in the kingdom at large I heard but little for a time. Of Colonel Firestone and Ralph Granville I heard not a word. Whether they were alive or dead, and how they had fared after leaving Chalton, remained a mystery as far as I was concerned, yet I had a conviction that ere long things would mend, and that I should once again see my old comrades. Then news began to come in apace. A fisherman brought the tidings that His Majesty had escaped from the power of the Independents, and had sought refuge at Titchfield House, whence he had been escorted by Colonel Hammond to the castle of Carisbrooke. To me, a loyal Cavalier, the news was encouraging, for, though nominally a prisoner, the King was within a few miles of the place where I existed in comparative poverty and obscurity. One evening I was returning in a small boat from a day's fishing off the mouth of the creek, and just as I was rowing past the little hard on the Fishbourne side, I saw three men standing under the trees. For a while they watched me intently, then one of them called, "Ho, fisherman, can you put us across?" "Right willingly," I answered, inwardly smiling at their mistake, which was natural enough under the circumstances, and running the boat aground, I told them to jump in.