"No, no, I must not, I dare not. Good-bye. I thank you beyond words for what you have done, and you need not fear for me. I am safe now. I can hide while search is being made. After that I shall find a home in another land."

"Another land?"

"Ay. There can be no longer a home in England for such as I. Good-bye."

Again she held out her hand, and in so doing she allowed her cloak to drop, so that I saw her face again, and again my heart grew warm as I saw it.

"I cannot let you go like this," I said. "Perchance you will need help again. If you do, then I desire to be at your side to render such service as may lie in my power."

"Why should you?" she asked. "I am a stranger to you. Our pathways have strangely crossed each other, and you have been kind to me. For this I thank you, oh, so much! but we can never meet again. Our paths lie apart. I dare not show my face to my country people. I am a Dissenter.

My father is hated of the new king, while I"--here her voice grew hoa.r.s.e and harsh--"I attempted to kill the man whose actions brought him back.

Do you realize that, Master Rashcliffe? Since that day I have been hunted as though I were a mad dog. Since that day I have had to adopt all sorts of disguises. I have had to hide in secret places, sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of a man who--who made me do his will, even when my heart grew sick at the thought of it."

"Then you need a friend all the more. I know nothing of the history of your marriage with Sir Charles Denman, and----"

"Do not seek to know it," she cried pa.s.sionately. "I shall escape now.

Since G.o.d hath led you to deliver me from Bedford Gaol, even when hope had died within my heart, will He forsake me now?"

"No, but if you need me?" I cried. "Will you not promise to send for me if you need me?"

"Is that your desire? Knowing what you know of me, do you wish to endanger yourself for me?"

"Does not my presence in Bedford to-night prove it?"

"But how may that be? Where can I send?"

"There is a man near St. Paul's Cross who keeps an inn called the _Virgin Queen_," I made answer. "He was once a servant of my father's.

His name is Caleb Bullen. I will speak to him directly I return to London, and if you send a letter to me in care of him it will surely reach me."

I saw that she looked steadily towards me as I spoke, and I thought she hesitated.

"When I need help I will send to you. But stay! I may need protection from my--husband. Will you shield me from him?"

She said this bitterly, and as she spoke my heart became hard. Why should I seek to befriend the wife of another man? Was not her place at his side? Then I remembered the way he spoke to her in the inn at Folkestone, and while I pitied the woman, I felt like hating the man.

"I will help you against all who would harm you," I said.

She grasped my hand convulsively.

"G.o.d protect you and preserve you," she said; and then before I realized what she had done, I saw her speeding swiftly across the meadows towards the trees she had spoken of.

I started to follow her, but deemed such an action to be unwise; therefore I stopped and listened. Full five minutes did I wait, but not a sound did I hear. She had disappeared from my view as though she were a shadow of the night. For a time she seemed but the creature of one's dreams, and the events of the night only the imaginings of a disordered mind. Yet I knew it was not so.

Presently, drawn by a curiosity which I was unable to overcome, I went towards the group of trees I have spoken of, and presently I saw a large house wellnigh hidden by much foliage. After that I stayed not a minute, but hurried back with all speed towards Bedford.

The reason for this will be plain. While I was with Mistress Constance, my one thought was to ensure her safety, but directly I was convinced that she had found a refuge, I realized my own danger. It came upon me with great suddenness that I must leave the town within an hour. I knew that the woman's flight from the gaol might be discovered any moment, and thus I should, if I were not careful, be drawn into a net of difficulties. It would be easy to raise the hue and cry, and then I should nowhere find rest for the sole of my foot. I realized that the carousals consequent upon the coming of the king had allowed me to effect her escape. At no other time would it have been possible to have done such a thing. But vigilance had been suspended, and every turnkey had deemed it his duty to become drunk in the king's honour. In this also lay my hope for escape from Bedford that night.

My work, therefore, was to get into the town with all speed, to saddle Black Ben in secret, and to ride away before any man should become aware of my whereabouts. If Master Sturgeon were still asleep this might be easy, for I had taken care to examine the exits from the stable at the time when I had taken up my quarters at _The Bull_. Moreover, Black Ben, although I wished he had many more hours' rest, had been well fed, and would by this time be ready for a gallop. It is true I had ridden him sixty miles, but his staying power was wonderful, and I knew he would go till he dropped.

It did not take me long to reach _The Bull_, where I found the carousers still lingering. It struck me, however, that something of importance had happened. The drinkers were not singing and shouting, but talking eagerly.

"You say she hath escaped?" I heard some one say.

"Ay."

"What, from the county gaol?"

"Ay, and Master Sturgeon is murdered."

"Murdered!"

"It is thought that some friend of Master Leslie's found his way into the gaol, and did away with him."

"And the woman is gone?"

"So it is said. I am going thither to see. I heard the news only a minute ago."

"Who told thee?"

"One of the night watchers, and he had it from one of the turnkeys."

All this time I stood in the yard of _The Bull_ beneath an open window.

"Stay, I will go with thee," said one.

"Ay, and I would too," said another, "but I am too drunk."

"Ay, and I too," said another, "and whether Master Leslie's wench hath escaped or no, I will e'en drink till daylight."

With that two or three left the inn, while I cautiously found my way into the stable.

I knew that if I did not get away within the next few minutes my liberty, and perhaps my life, could not be valued at a silver groat.

CHAPTER XVII

HOW I LEFT BEDFORD

If ever a man worked quickly and silently it was I. In less time than it takes me to tell I had thrown Black Ben's saddle across his back and buckled the girths thereof. As the saddle-bags contained nought of value, I had no trouble with them, and before a minute had pa.s.sed away the bridle was around my horse's head.

"Come, my boy," I whispered, "there is a hard gallop before you, so we must haste."

Whether he understood me or no I dare not say, but he whinnied as though he knew my will, and followed my lead into the yard. I had opened the gate on entering, and it had struck me, even as I had done this, how easy it would have been for a horse-thief to enter the stable and take whatever nag he pleased, as far as the ostler was concerned. Not that I troubled about Black Ben, for no man but myself had been on his back since he was foaled, neither, for that matter, dare any man do this. For while he was obedient to my hand, and was as gentle as a lamb with me, he would not suffer another to mount him. In truth, the ostler was afraid of him when I brought him in, neither would Black Ben have allowed him even to bring his corn had I not spoken to him, and bidden him be quiet. I had no fear, therefore, that any man would steal him.

Thus when I unfastened the stable gate with so much ease, I had no fear that I should not find him waiting for me.