The Panchronicon Part 61

"The spectre--the ghostly steed!" he stammered.

"Oh--oh!" laughed Phoebe. "Why, this was but some venturous bicyclist on his wheel!"

"A bicyclist!" exclaimed Sir Guy. "Can you thus give a name to this black phantom, Mary?"

"'Tis naught, dear Guy, believe me!" she said. Then, in pleading tones, she continued: "Didst not agree to trust thy lady, dear?"

The young knight pa.s.sed his hand over his eyes and straightened himself resolutely in his saddle.

"E'en to the death, love. Lead on! I shall not falter!"

They trotted forward through a now silent street to the bridge, and soon found themselves enveloped in the darkness and a.s.sailed by the countless odors of London Bridge. From time to time they crossed a path of moonlight, and here Phoebe would smile into the eyes of her still much-puzzled lover and murmur words of encouragement.

Before they reached Southwark, there rang out behind them the sound of hoofs upon the stones of the bridge.

"Can these be your father's minions, think you?" said Sir Guy.

"Nay!" Phoebe exclaimed. "Rest a.s.sured, they were scattered too far to dog our steps again to-night."

They emerged some moments later on the Southwark side and saw the pillory towering ahead of them.

"How far shall we fare to-night, love?" asked the knight.

"To Newington on horseback," Phoebe replied, "and then--well, then shalt thou see more faring."

There was a loud cry from the bridge, startling the pair from their fancied security.

"There they ride! The watch, ho! Stop the traitor! Stop him! For the Queen! For the Queen!"

"G.o.d help us!" cried Phoebe. "'Tis the two yeomen of the Peac.o.c.k Inn!"

With one accord the pair clapped spurs to their horses' sides and resumed once more the flight which they had thought concluded.

CHAPTER XVII

REBECCA'S TRUMP CARD

When Rebecca set out for the Panchronicon from London Bridge, she knew that she had a long walk in prospect, and settled down to the work with dogged resolution. Her trip was quite uneventful until she neared the village of Newington, and then she realized for the first time that she did not know exactly where to find the deserted grove. One grove looked much like another, and how was she to choose between garden walls "as like as two peas," as she expressed it?

"Look here, Rebecca Wise," she said, aloud, as she paused in the middle of the road, "you'll be lost next you know!"

She looked about dubiously and shook her head.

"The thing fer you to do is to set right down an' wait fer that pesky good-fer-nothin' Copernicus Droop!" she remarked, and suiting action to speech she picked her way to a convenient mile-stone and seated herself.

Having nothing better to do, she began to review mentally the events of the last two days, and as she recalled one after the other the unprecedented adventures which had overtaken her, she wondered in a dreamy way what would next befall. She built hazy hypotheses, sitting there alone in the moonlight, nodding contentedly. Suddenly she straightened up, realizing that she had been aroused from a doze by a cry near at hand.

Turning toward London, she saw a wriggling ma.s.s about fifty feet away which, by a process of slow disentanglement, gradually developed into a man's form rising from the ground and raising a fallen bicycle.

"Darn the luck!" said this dark figure. "Busted my tire, sure as shootin'!"

"Copernicus Droop!" cried Rebecca, in a loud voice.

Droop jumped high in the air, so great was his nervousness. Then, realizing that it was Rebecca who had addressed him, he limped toward her, rolling his bicycle beside him.

"How in creation did you get here?" he asked. "Ain't any steam-cars 'round here, is there?"

"Guess not!" Rebecca replied. "I come by short cut up river. I guessed you'd make fer the Panchronicle, and I jest made up my mind to come, too. Thinks I, 'that Copernicus Droop ud be jest mean enough to fly away all by himself an' leave me an' Phoebe to shift fer ourselves.' So I'm here to go, too--an' what's more, we've got to take Phoebe!"

"How'll ye find yer sister, Cousin Rebecca?" said Droop. "We must git out to-night. When the Queen gets on her ear like that, it's now or never. Can you find Cousin Phoebe to-night?"

"Where is the old machine, anyhow?" Rebecca asked, not heeding Droop's question.

"Right over yonder," said he, pointing to a dark group of trees a few rods distant.

"Well, come on, then. Let's go to it right away," said Rebecca. "I'd like to rest a bit. I'm tired!"

"Tired!" Droop exclaimed. "What about me, then?"

Without further parley, the two set off toward the grove which Droop had indicated. Having dwelt here for several weeks, he knew his bearings well, but it was not until they came much nearer to the deserted mansion that Rebecca recognized several landmarks which convinced her that he had made no mistake.

Under the trees, the shadows were so black that they were unable to find the breach in the wall.

"Got any matches, Cousin Rebecca?" Droop asked.

"Yes. Wait a minute an' I'll strike a light. I know that blessed hole is somewhere right near here."

She found again her card of matches, and breaking off one of them, soon had a tiny taper which lit up their surroundings wonderfully.

"There 'tis! I've found it," cried Droop, and, taking Rebecca by the arm, he led her toward the broken place in the wall. The match went out just as they reached it.

Droop was about to suggest that he go in first to see if all was well, when he was startled by Rebecca's hand on his arm.

"Hark!" she cried.

He listened and distant cries coming nearer through the night were borne to his ears.

"What's that?" Rebecca exclaimed again.

Rigid with excitement and dread, they stood there listening. At length Droop pulled himself free of Rebecca's hold.

"That's some o' them palace folks chasin' after me!" he cried, in a panic.

"Fiddle-dee-dee!" Rebecca exclaimed, with energy. "How should they know where you are?"