In Doublet and Hose Part 32

"Francis!"

"I am here," answered the girl thrilled by the call.

"Then come!"

Gladly she obeyed, and ascended the short flight of steps, and soon stood beside the form of Devereaux on the roof.

"The sentinel," she whispered.

"Lies there," and Devereaux pointed to a dark figure extended at full length beside the belfry. "Mind him not. We must hasten. Here is the rope. Descend, and loose not thine hold of it until thy feet have touched ground as thou lovest life. Remember the fate of Griffin of Wales."

Francis grasped the rope and swung herself clear of the belfry. For a moment she swayed dizzily, then the rope settled, and steadying herself by means of the roughened surface of the old walls she slipped quickly to the ground. The Bell Tower consisted of only one story above the ground one so that the feat was not so difficult as it would have been from any of the other towers. Giving a tug to the rope in token that she had reached the ground in safety she waited Devereaux's coming with palpitating heart. In a few moments he was beside her.

For a second they stood silently, but no sound from the battlements above betokened that their flight had been discovered. Grasping the girl's hand Devereaux drew her quickly across the outer ward into the shadow of the Byward Tower through which was the princ.i.p.al entrance. This was guarded by a burly warder whom the youth could not hope to overcome by strength, so he resolved upon a strategy. With a low breathed injunction to Francis he bent over, and ran at full tilt into the man as he came toward them, hitting him, as he had foreseen, directly in the stomach and upsetting him. With a roar and a shout the guard sprang to his feet just as they darted past him. The drawbridge leading across the moat was closed, but, nothing daunted, the two leaped over the railing into the moat below.

The sentinels on the battlements of the tower heard the splash and instantly gave the alarm. The bell rang; lights flashed along the ramparts, and numerous shots were fired into the moat after the fugitives. The moat was wide and deep, and Francis whose physical vigor was undermined by her long confinement, felt her strength failing.

"Leave me, Edward," she gasped. "I can hold out no longer. Save thyself!"

"Never!" came from Devereaux valiantly, and he supported her with his arm. "Lean on me. The wharf is not far distant. Courage!"

As they neared the other side a low whistle sounded, which the lad answered in like manner. Then indistinctly the form of a man became visible on the opposite bank. Again the whistle came, and a line was thrown out to them. This Edward grasped, and they were soon towed to sh.o.r.e, and pulled from the water.

"We must hasten," said the man who had come to their a.s.sistance. "The whole garrison is aroused."

With all the speed they could muster they hurried to the Tower wharf where a boat was in waiting.

"Devereaux," said a man grasping the hand of the youth, "is it thou?"

"In very truth 'tis I, Walter. And right glad am I to be here. But hasten, beseech you. I would not be retaken for all the wealth of Spain."

The boat shot out from the wharf into the river, and pa.s.sed swiftly down the stream.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE THREE VOLUNTEERS

Some distance down the river a vessel lay at anchor. To this the boat made its way and lay alongside. Devereaux, the young man whom he had called Walter, and Francis scrambled aboard, and the wherry put off. The sails of the ship were raised, and, as she glided swiftly toward the open sea, Devereaux gave a shout of exultation.

"Now for Plymouth and the Dons," he cried gaily. "Oh, Francis, is it not glorious to be free?"

"Yes;" replied Francis, scarce able to speak so overcome was she by her emotion.

"And as soon as we touch Plymouth thou canst take pa.s.sage in another vessel for France."

Then indeed did the girl turn upon him with flashing eyes.

"France?" she cried. "Go to France while England is in danger? Never!

Never! At Plymouth do I stay, Edward Devereaux, with the fleet. I am resolved to meet the Dons as well as thou."

"But, Francis, thy faith! 'Tis the same as the Spaniards! Thou canst not meet them."

"'Tis true that I am Catholic, but still am I not born English? Never would I see alien foot tread English soil, be the intruder of whatever faith he may."

"And there spake a true Englishman," said he whom Edward had called Walter. "So spake Charles Howard, Lord High Admiral of the navy. And so also hath spoken every true Englishman of Roman Catholic faith. Who is thy friend, Edward? I was surprised to find that another accompanied thee in thy flight from the Tower."

As Devereaux opened his lips to reply, Francis touched his hand warningly and answered for herself.

"I am Francis Stafford. I was imprisoned in the Tower charged with treason to the queen, though of that I am innocent."

"Well, Master Stafford, prove thy mettle at this, England's time of need, and it may be that England's queen will overlook thy past transgressions.

I am Walter Mildemay, kinsman of Edward Devereaux, and a true subject of the queen's majesty, save and except for abetting the rescue of Edward Devereaux. For that I hope to make my peace with the queen if we meet the Spaniards."

"Hath their ships been sighted yet, Walter?" asked Edward.

"Nay; but they watch for them hourly as they have been doing for days.

'Twill surely not be much longer till they come."

The summer's sun was casting its lengthening shadows across the quiet harbor of Plymouth as the little vessel containing the three, Walter Mildemay, Edward Devereaux, and Francis Stafford, anch.o.r.ed not far from the town. A boat put off, bearing the three named to the place where they had been informed Admiral Lord Howard was.

It was the memorable evening of July 19, 1588, and an exciting game of bowls was being played upon the green back of the Pelican Inn known to every officer of Her Majesty's navy. Standing round the bowling alley were a group of men watching the game with interest. Lord Howard of Effingham, the Lord High Admiral of England; Sir Robert Southwell, his son-in-law, the captain of the Elizabeth Joncas; Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Richard Grenville; Martin Frobisher and John Davis; John Hawkins and his pupil, Sir Francis Drake, the vice admiral of the fleet.

The three paused as they entered this ill.u.s.trious group. Sir Walter Raleigh was the first to spy them.

"Ha, my apt pupil of the sword!" he cried. "Why came you hither?"

"We are come to join the fleet," answered Francis boldly.

"Lord Howard, here be three more volunteers," cried Raleigh. "Verily it beseems that all of England's sons have come forth for the fight."

"And they have done well," answered the deep voice of the n.o.ble admiral.

"'Come the three corners of arms, And we shall shock them! Nought shall make us rue, If England to herself do rest but true.'

So says that knave--Will Shakespeare. Edward, thou here again? I thought the queen held thee in durance?"

"She did, my lord admiral," returned Devereaux. "But think you that I was to be mewed up like a girl when England had need of me? I trow not!"

"Spoken like a true Englishman, boy, save the slur upon the girl. Know, Master Edward, that so enthusiastic are women and girls that if we men wax faint hearted in the strife English women and English maidens will take up the battle for their country."

"I crave pardon, my lord. Such speech was unworthy an Englishman when the proof is by his----"

"I am Francis Stafford, my lord," interrupted the girl, knowing full well what Edward was about to say. "My father and I were accused of treason to the queen when Anthony Babington conspired against her life. I escaped from the Tower in company with Master Devereaux. Do not, I beseech you, say me nay when I plead for place with you. I would fain prove that I am a true and loyal subject of Her Majesty."

"And thou shalt be given the opportunity, lad. And thou, young sir," to Walter Mildemay, "art thou escaped from the Tower also?"