"With apologies for delay."

"And a curse upon you for not having what we wanted."

I heard them laugh as they mounted and rode away, as though they were pleased with themselves. For some time I did not move; I thought it would be wiser to keep up the part I had been playing, for fear they might come back. Presently I heard the sound of horses coming towards me from the Canterbury road, and this led me to get up with all speed, and to call Black Ben to my side. A few minutes later I was again on horseback, but little the worse for my happening, although sore vexed with myself for being mastered so easily. Still, I had learnt something.

I was not the only one who was trying to obtain Lucy Walters' marriage contract, while my father was not the only one to whom Katharine Harcomb had spoken concerning the thing. Moreover I had been confirmed in my information concerning the prison of Mistress Denman, neither did I fail to take note of what was said about the gaoler.

On the whole, therefore, I was not ill-pleased with the night's events, and possessed no very bitter feelings towards either Master Rickmore or Master Hamilton.

Nothing of importance happened further to me that night. As I drew nearer London, I found the people talking much about the gay doings which were to take place when the king came back to his loyal city, as well as the terrible punishments which would be meted out to all who in any way took part in King Charles' death. I did not stay in London longer than I could help, however, for, foolish as it may appear, I determined to ride to Bedford, and if possible deliver from prison the woman who had been my companion to Pycroft Hall but a few nights before.

CHAPTER XIV

HOW I SAW A MAN WHO BECAME FAMOUS!

The night was falling fast as I drew near Bedford town. The weather was very fine, however, and the country side was fair to behold. Flowers were blooming on all sides, and the scent of the young and bursting life was indeed pleasant. Not that I was in a mood to enter into the joyousness of that spring evening, for I had ridden hard since morning, and I noticed that Black Ben's head drooped, and he dragged one leg wearily after another. Besides, my mind was filled with many doubts and fears. Why had I come to a town of which I knew nothing? And why should I seek to rescue a woman from prison who thought so little of my help that she had treated my offer with but little respect? Added to this, why should I, the son of a gentleman who had fought for Charles Stuart, seek to befriend the woman who had attempted murder in order to prevent the rightful king of the country from coming back to his throne?

These questions, which persisted in coming to me, were real and forceful enough, and try as I would I could find no satisfactory answer to them.

Yet did I ride straight on, determined to do that which reason and welfare declared to be madness. For the woman's face haunted me. The look of despair I had seen in her eyes, the tone of her voice, appealed to me so strongly for help that I could not resist. More than that, the very mystery which surrounded her strengthened my determination. What led her to Folkestone, and what connection had she with the old man with whom I had had such strange experiences at Pycroft Hall?

All this determined me to get to Bedford that night, and then to use my utmost endeavour to deliver her from the hands of Monk's minions and from the king's power.

I heard the bells from the old church at Bedford pealing out a note of joy, when I saw a man in plain homely garments trudging along the road in front of me.

"Give you good even," he said, as I rode up.

"Good even," I replied, trying to discern in the fast failing light whether he was a man of quality.

"You look as though you have ridden far."

"From London," I replied, reflecting that although he looked not like a man of wealth, there was an air of authority about him, which made it impossible to pa.s.s him by without a second look.

"Ah," he said eagerly. "And what is the news from London?"

"There is much," I replied; "and yet it will not take long in the telling."

"And how is that?"

"Because it all hath to do with the same thing. When you have said that the new king is on his way thither and that the people are preparing to welcome him, you have told all."

"Ah, but that means much, I fear."

"You fear?"

"Ay, I fear, young master, for I fear me the devil is unloosed in London town. If what I have heard be true, then all those things which the children of the Lord have fought against, and driven into the darkness, are to be flaunted in broad daylight, and no man will dare to cry shame."

"The new king loves pleasure," I made answer.

He looked at me steadily, and was silent.

I would have ridden on at this; but thinking he might be able to tell me things I desired to know, I determined to alight and walk by his side.

"We are not far from Bedford, I take it?" I said.

"But a mile."

"Know you of a good hostelry there?"

"I know all that may be found there."

"Then, by your leave, I will walk back with you, for I judge you are travelling thither."

"Ay," he replied, "my home is at Bedford, and my wife and dear ones live there."

There was a quiet dignity in the way he spoke, and although I detected none of the evidences of the schoolman in his speech, I could not help feeling that he was a man of some authority.

"Do you love G.o.d, young master?" he said, the moment I had dismounted, and walked by his side.

"How may a man do that?" I asked, for the question took me aback.

"By loving His Son, whom He hath sent in the flesh to proclaim his love, by dying for a sinful world."

"And what may be the signs which show forth that one loves the Son of G.o.d?" I continued, concluding that I had happened across one of the Puritans of the district.

"The sign of love is obedience," he replied. "For what are His Words?

'He that hath My commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me.'"

"That also may need explanation," I replied, for I determined not to endanger myself in any way by hasty speech.

"The explanation is simple," he replied quietly. "The teaching of Christ is that we do good, not only in lip but in life. That we love one another, and that we also love the truth of G.o.d. It is also that we obey G.o.d at all costs, even as the Apostles did of olden time. We have a safe guide to the will of G.o.d in the Holy Scriptures, and especially is it made clear to us in the New Testament Scriptures. The proofs of love to G.o.d are trust in and obedience to Him, as is set forth therein. For what said Martin Luther, when he stood before his judges, who called upon him to recant. 'Confute me with scripture; if you cannot do that, neither can I recant, for it is neither safe nor wise for a man to disobey his conscience.' So then he loves G.o.d who is true to Him, and this he does by instructing his conscience by Holy Writ and much prayer, and then obeying his conscience whatever may befall him."

"But may a man not need instruction in Holy Writ?" I asked.

"A man's prayer obtains the best instruction," he made answer. "If we read the Scriptures in prayer and reverence, G.o.d will guide us. Thus it is that a wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err in the ways of truth."

"But suppose that one be led in reading the Scriptures to hold views different from those of those set in authority over us?" I asked.

He lifted his large eyes to mine, and scanned my face intently.

"Yet should he hold fast by his integrity," he replied.

"Even if the teachers of the Church command otherwise?" I asked.

"Who are the teachers of the Church?" he asked. "Are they such as Cardinal Pole, and Stephen Gardiner, falsely called the Bishop of Winchester, or Dr. Ridley and Master Hugh Latimer, whom they put to death by fire? Ay, and to whose voice shall we listen; that of Laud, the Papist in disguise, and his lying master Charles Stuart, or to such as Cromwell, and Pym, and Hampden, who saved England from Popery and slavery?"

"That is treason," I said.