Sir Ludar Part 42

"Twas in good time we were warned," said my master, after he was gone.

"Yet still am I in a great strait. For what can a press and paper do, if we have no type? I durst not use this I have here, for it will be known. And from no one else can I borrow it, for those that be not jealous of me are too timid of his Grace to lend letter for such a cause. Humphrey, type I must have, if not from at home from abroad."

"What!" said I. "From whom abroad will you get any?"

"My wife hath kinsmen in the town of Roch.e.l.le, who be printers. I have had type of them already, but not enough."

"But how will you get it now?" I asked. "Who will fetch it?"

"I think you will, Humphrey," said he.

"I!" I cried. "No, master. I would serve you in much, but I cannot in this; for I am bound to stay here, by an oath I would not break if I could. Master, cost what it may, I will not go this errand."

Little knew I how soon I was to change my mind!

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

HOW THE MISERICORDE SAILED FOR ROCh.e.l.lE.

My master was very surly with me when I refused to go his errand abroad; yet he had too much need of my service in the business he was engaged on to fall out with me as he would have liked. And seeing me resolved to abide where I was, he bade me stay and look to the place while he himself saw after the removing of the stuff from Mistress Crane's house to Moulsey.

"As to the type," said he, "we will speak of that again. But mark me, Humphrey, a 'prentice who is not good enough to do an errand like this is not good enough to be my son-in-law."

And he went off in dudgeon, leaving me very lonely and miserable. And, to tell the truth, at any other season I should have hailed this voyage; and when next day I saw lying near London Bridge the _Misericorde_ herself, and hailing the captain (who was that same shipmate who had steered us into Leith Roads), heard from him that in a week he should sail for France, I wished I could divide myself in two and go half with him and half remain at my post in London.

A day or two later, being evening, I had locked up the printing house and was wandering to take the air towards Smithfield. I had pa.s.sed under Temple Bar and was making my way down Fleet Street, when there knocked up against me a great carter fellow, whom, by his gait, I took to be more than half drunk. Being a 'prentice, and not in the humour for knocks of that kind, I swung round on the fellow to kick him for his clumsiness, when he looked me suddenly in the face and uttered my name.

It was Ludar.

It was my turn now to reel like a drunken man; and so mighty a knock did my heart give against my ribs that I believe I should have fallen had he not roughly caught my arm and muttered--

"Not a word, but lead on." And he staggered away, smacking his whip and calling to his horse to go forward.

I walked on in a dream, knowing by the crack of the whip behind that he followed at a distance, yet never daring to turn my head. At last, as we came near Smithfield, I looked back. He lay on the top of a load of hay in his cart, singing aloud noisily and cracking his whip, and seeming no more concerned in me or any one else than the patient horse he drove.

The market place was full of carts, amidst which he was presently able to leave his own and come near where I stood with a crowd looking at some bulls just brought in. He had left his whip behind, by which I guessed he had done with his cart and was free to follow me on foot. So presently I edged out and wandered slowly back citywards. It was already dusk, and by the time I got back to my master's door and unlocked it, night had fallen. I durst not look back as I entered, and indeed made a great noise as of fastening bolts and bars within. Then I stood and waited in a fever.

Had I been wrong after all? An hour pa.s.sed and never a footfall on the pavement. Then the watch marched by, and as their slow tramp died away in the distance the door quietly opened and there stood Ludar, very pale, but as cool and unconcerned as the day I first met him near Oxford.

"Are you alone?" said he.

"Yes."

"Is there any food in the house?"

I flew to get him some, while he slowly took off his faded carter's cloak, and flung himself wearily on a chair.

He kept me waiting while he ate, nor had I the words to question him.

But when his hunger was appeased, he said:

"Six days I have waited and thought you lost. Yet I knew I should find you at last, and I did."

"You escaped?" I asked, the words coming slowly and charily.

"Yes, Humphrey, my friend. After six months, with great labour, and by the help of a nail, I filed my wrist chain and freed my hands. Then when my warder came one evening later than usual, I flew on him and felled him. He was but stunned, and lay still scarce long enough for me to strip him and put him in my clothes. Then I left him and walked out, jingling the keys. In the dark, no one looked twice at me, even when at the porter's lodge I went to hang up my keys. 'You be late in your rounds to-night,' said the porter, who dozed at the fire. I grunted in reply, and sat beside him till he was well asleep. Then I slipped the great key from his belt, and bade him good-night, to which he muttered something. At the great gate stood a young sentry, who, seeing me to be a warder, asked me where I went at that hour. I told him a state prisoner was very sick and I was bidden by the leech go to the druggist for a plaster. 'A pretty errand to send an honest fellow,' said I, 'who has work enough of his own without being waiting gentleman to every knave in the place who has a fit of the colic.' The soldier laughed and said, 'twas a pity they did not keep a supply of plasters in the place.

To which I agreed, and unlocking the gate, bade him guard the key while I was out, as 'twas a risk to carry it beyond the precincts. 'But I pray you, comrade,' said I, 'be at hand to admit me when I return.'

'Ay, ay,' said he, with a grin. 'There be some in here who would not tap hard to get in again.' So we parted good friends, and out I got.

After that I went down to the river, where all was dark, and being anxious to part with my warder's clothes which might tell tales, I stripped, and filling the pockets with stones, dropped them into the tide. Then I set out to swim to the other sh.o.r.e, and you may guess if it was not brave to feel free once more. 'Twas a long swim, and the tide carried me far down to Rotherhithe, where, as luck would have it, as I neared sh.o.r.e I struck against something floating on the stream. At first I thought it a log, but as I laid my arms upon it, I found it, to my horror, to be a corpse of a man drowned. I was going to cast off again, when I bethought me, here was a man whose clothes were no use to him or any one else, while I went naked. So I dragged him to a desolate part of the sh.o.r.e. He seemed to be a carrier, and having no wound or sign of violence on him, I concluded him to have fallen in the water either by accident or of his own accord. These garments I wear are his."

I shuddered as I looked at them. They seemed scarce dry yet.

"That was a month ago," said he, "since then--"

"A month," cried I, "and I only find you now?"

"I have hidden here and there, and worked for my livelihood across the water; not daring to show myself this side; till two weeks ago, I was sent to Smithfield with hay, and after that came daily. But till yesterday I never saw you; nor expected it then. But you have news for me, Humphrey," said he, "tell it, for I can hear it."

Then I told him all that had happened since I saw him last, and much the story moved him. And when I came to speak of the maiden, this great, strong man's hand trembled like a leaf as he stretched it across the table, and put out the light which burned there.

"We can talk as well in the dark," said he, hoa.r.s.ely.

So, in the dark, never seeing his face, yet guessing every look upon it, I told him how the maiden had gone often by boat and gazed up at the great Tower; and how, when she left, she had said to me, "Stay near him"; and how hardly she had torn herself away to return to her father.

He heard me, and said not a word, nor moved a muscle; and, when there was no more to be told, he sat on in the dark, breathing hard, until I supposed he had fallen asleep.

But when, after a while, the early dawn struggled through the cas.e.m.e.nt, it found him still awake, with a look on his face half hope, half bewilderment, and a light in his eyes such as I had seen there only once before--on that day we crossed from Cantire to the Bann with the maiden.

But the sight of day roused him.

"Humphrey, I dare not be seen here," said he, "there is a hue and cry after me. Where shall I hide?"

That was a question had been troubling me all night. For stay where he was he could not. And, if he fled, was I to lose him thus, the moment I found him?

Almost as he spoke there came a step without, and a loud tap on the outer door, at sound of which Ludar started to his feet, and his hand went by instinct to his belt.

"Hush," whispered I, "'tis only my master, the printer. Here, follow me," said I, leading him up the narrow stairs, "here is a room where you should be safe," and I put him into the chamber that was once the maiden's. "Presently I will return. Meanwhile give yourself to guessing who once called this little room hers."

Then I went down drowsily, and admitted my master.

"Humphrey," said he, "the stuff is safely removed to Moulsey; but without type we can do nothing. As it is, I must take what we have here till I can get more. I have no one I can send but you. Once again, are you willing to go? or must I lose a 'prentice and Jeannette a husband?"

While he spoke, a thought had flashed on me, and, presently I replied, humbly enough:

"Master, I am bound to obey you. When you asked me a week since, I answered you like a fool. I have thought better of it, and if you will yet trust me, I am ready to start to-night."

At that he gripped my hand, and said he knew I was a good lad all along, and was content to forgive me. And he told me what grief my disobedience had caused him and my mistress, and read me a long sermon on the sinfulness of my course.

"As to thy voyage," said he, "I hear there sails a ship from the pool for Roch.e.l.le to-morrow at dawn. Make ready to start, therefore, and meanwhile I will write you your letters for my kinsfolk there."