The Coming of the King Part 36

As I led him out into the yard Black Ben p.r.i.c.ked up his ears, as though he heard strange sounds, and on seeing this my heart sank in my shoes, for I heard a number of people running, and as far as I could judge they were coming towards the inn.

"Where is he? Is he gone?"

"Where is who gone?"

This question was asked by some one who stood by the front door of the inn.

"The young stranger from London."

"Why, what hath he done?"

"Spirited away Master Leslie's daughter. Where is he?"

"In bed hours ago, I expect. He drank nought, but just listened to what the rest were saying."

"Hath he paid his count?"

"Nay. He hath had nought but boiled beef for his supper, and a pint of ale to wash it down. That is but a little matter. Then when he hath paid for his bed and breakfast, he will owe me but a crown."

"But is he in bed?"

"Nay, I know not. This is not a time to know whether a man be in bed or no. Every man hath desired to drink the king's health, and so I have e'en been kept busy drawing ale. But I will send and find out."

"Ay, send and find out. But did you not see him go away with Master Sturgeon?"

"That did I not. Have I not told you that I have been over-busy to-night?"

"Well, he must be found. It is he who hath spirited away Master Leslie's daughter."

"Nay, man, how could he do that?"

"He wellnigh killed Master Sturgeon, locked him in the county gaol, took his keys, and liberated the maid. I tell you he hath done this."

"A pretty c.o.c.k-and-bull story!"

"But I tell you he hath. One of the turnkeys was found sober enough to unlock the governor's door, and after he woke him, Master Sturgeon told the turnkey that he had been imprisoned by the young stranger from London."

"Say that Queen Mary hath come to life again. I tell you, you be all too drunk to know the truth of this."

"Not so, Master Jiggins; we have been drinking as men should, but we be not so drunk as that. Besides, Master Fulton--the town clerk, saw a man and a woman together not far from the gaol, but he did not think it could be Master Leslie's daughter, because the man claimed to be the friend of Sir William Bilton, and, as you know, Sir William despises Master Leslie as every Quaker rascal should be despised."

At this moment some one must have spoken to Master Jiggins from within, for I heard him say, "The chambermaid hath it that no one is in the young stranger's bedchamber."

"Then hath he escaped. But we must find him. The town clerk hath it that ten guineas will be given to him who will lay hands on him."

"But where is the warrant for this?"

"Master Fulton's word is enough warrant, Master Jiggins. But stay, he hath a horse. Is the horse in the stable?"

At this I knew that what I did must be done quickly. I was therefore on Black Ben's back before they could enter the yard by the door of which I had been hiding while they were speaking.

"Here he is!" cried the man who had been chief spokesman, and he made a dash at the horse's head.

"At him, my boy!" I cried, and the faithful animal darted at the fellow with open mouth.

In spite of themselves the crowd made way for me as I dashed through.

Partly, I suspect, because they were not sure who I was, and partly because Black Ben careered so wildly that no man dared to approach him.

"Your count, you blackguard, your count!" I heard Master Jiggins say, who evidently cared more about that than the recapturing of Mistress Constance. Indeed, I heard in after days that Master Jiggins had a warm affection for Master Leslie, and rejoiced that she had escaped from the hands of the drunken governor.

I threw him a couple of crowns as I dashed away.

"That is double what you would have asked, Master Jiggins," I cried, and then I laughed aloud, for the whole pack of them--and there must have been at least twenty of them--stood open mouthed even while I rode away.

Never did I realize how silly a number of drunken men could be, and how easy one who had kept his head clear could deal with them. Through the whole night I had worked my will because of the king's command that every man should drink his health, and now at the last I rode away unscathed, having accomplished the thing I had come to Bedford to perform.

It was no wonder, therefore, that I should laugh. The spirit of adventure was hot within me, and now that I sat upon Black Ben's back, I knew that unless they had firearms no man could harm me. For although he had travelled from London to Bedford that day, I knew that now he had had a few hours' rest and a good feed of corn, he could do the whole journey back again and be none the worse for it. Moreover, I doubted if there was a horse in Bedford which could overtake me.

"After him! after him!" I heard some one shout. "He hath flouted us, and laughed in our faces."

Then I heard a louder cry, followed by a silence as though some one in authority had come upon the scene. I longed to shout back, so as to put them upon a false track, but reflected that the least said was the soonest mended, so I gave Black Ben rein, and before long was out of both sight and hearing of Bedford town.

Had I known then that I should soon see Bedford again under different circ.u.mstances, I do not think I should have been so light of heart. But coming events do not always cast their shadows before them, in spite of old women's wisdom; and so, feeling my good horse beneath me, and seeing the hedges fly by me as he dashed along the road, I felt that I had nought to fear.

Besides, I had succeeded far beyond my expectations. I felt sure that Mistress Constance was safe, for I knew that she was one who spoke not lightly, and as I remembered what she told me in the prison I knew that she was even then in some secret hiding-place, watched over by a faithful servant, and that perhaps even her father knew not what had become of her.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I gave Black Ben rein, and before long was out of both sight and hearing of Bedford Tower."]

As may be imagined, I rode straight towards London. Had it been safe I think I should have stayed near Bedford, so that I might in case of need have rendered help to Mistress Constance. But I reflected that I should do more harm than good by staying there, and in spite of pa.s.sing doubts I felt sure that she was safe. Moreover, London was the place I desired to be in. It would be difficult for any man from Bedford to find me there, and I had plans in my mind which I hoped would forward the schemes which had been formulating there. I also wanted to see my father again, and to know what he had been doing since we parted at Canterbury.

I had not long left Bedford before morning began to dawn, and by the time I had reached the town of Hitchin it was broad daylight. Much as I desired to rest here, both for the sake of Black Ben as well as myself, I rode straight on, barely entering the town, but taking a narrow and somewhat unfrequented road instead. Not a soul did I meet, and this pleased me much, because, in case of pursuers, no one would be able to give information. When I had covered half the distance between Hitchin and St. Albans, I stopped by a wayside inn for an hour, keeping a sharp look-out on the road all the while. By noon I had reached St. Albans, but I did not stay here, pushing on instead to the town of Barnet, where I deemed myself safe from pursuit. Moreover, having once arrived at Barnet, I found the roads so full of travellers, who were on their way to London to join in the revels, as well as others coming from them, that my presence could not call for any comment. Nevertheless, I was very thankful when I reached the _Virgin Queen_, an inn close by St.

Paul's Cross, where I gave my horse in charge of Caleb Bullen, an old-Ptime and faithful servitor of my father's.

I spent two days in London trying to find my father, as well as taking part in the festivities which were held, but although I went everywhere that the public gathered, never once did I catch a glimpse of my father, neither did I meet with any man who had seen aught of him. I concluded therefore that he had again returned home, and had settled down to the old quiet life. Much as I wanted to see him I deemed it wise not to go thither. First, because if any at Bedford had by any means whatsoever become acquainted with my name, they might place watchers there; and second, because I knew that by going home I should put myself outside the possibility of hearing whatever news might be stirring. I therefore counted the crowns which I still possessed, and, finding that I had enough for my needs, I remained at the _Virgin Queen_, and partook of the good fare which Caleb Bullen provided.

For a week London town was a scene of constant gaiety, for although the great rejoicing took place on the day when the king rode into London, it took the people a full week to settle down to the ordinary course of life. The playhouses which Oliver Cromwell had closed were all open, while seemingly all traces of the old Puritan life which had grown up under the great Protector were swept away in a day. Laws were relaxed, and the old stern system of morals was not only broken, but laughed at as unworthy of a free people.

It was not until the fourth day after I had come back to London that I heard it declared that Master Leslie's daughter had escaped from prison, and that in spite of every endeavour to discover her hiding-place, she had not been found. It was said, moreover, that her escape had been brought around by a friend of Master Leslie's, who had succeeded in putting a sleeping potion in the drink of the gaolers, and had thus succeeded in his plans.

As may be imagined, this news caused me great satisfaction, most because Mistress Constance was still at liberty, but also because no shadow of suspicion rested upon me. The latter conviction was, however, rudely shaken when at the end of a week I was told that two men had been at the _Virgin Queen_ inquiring after me.

"What were they like?" I asked of Caleb Bullen, who I knew was my faithful friend.

"They were gaily attired, Master Roland. They wore swords by their sides, and long feathers in their caps."

"And you took them to be men of quality?"

"Ay, I should judge so," replied Caleb thoughtfully. "They swore much, talked much, laughed much, and drank much wine, so I judged they were of gentle blood. They mentioned great names with much freedom, and seemed to know of all that was going on at Court."

"But what did they say?"