“Perdition seize them!” said he. “I am naught without my horse, old as he is. He and I have had many a narrow shave, and have escaped all dangers. Where have they stowed our horses, Master Tuckett?”
“Nay,” said Ben, “they are where you left them—at the Peck of Malt, but master landlord has had orders to give them to nobody save a magistrate’s man. Under lock and key they are at this moment.”
“Oh!” said Philip Lisle, “an that be all, we shall not have much trouble in releasing them. If you, Will, can show me the ins and outs of the place, I will engage to have them under us in half an hour.”
“And where will you go then?” asked Ben.
“To Dale’s Field,” said I.
“Better not at present,” said he. “For I heard tonight that they have sent there to search for papers, and it might go ill with you to present yourselves there. They have some mighty grievance against you, Master Lisle, and indeed I heard certain persons swear that you should hang ere two days went by, which God forfend, for ’tis a poor death.”
“Bah!” said Philip Lisle. “The rope is not spun, good Ben, that will hang me. However, Will, what Ben says is good. Let us absent ourselves for awhile from this part of the country and return later on. What say you; and you, Jack, what have you to say?”
“I am good for anything,” said Jack. “It matters not to me whether we are here or there.”
“But what shall we do about those at home?” I inquired. “How can we leave them? Who knows, indeed, what may have happened already?”
“Nay, man, let them search for what papers they will. They will find naught at Dale’s Field, either of yours or mine. And I will not believe that Englishmen will cause trouble to innocent women. When they find naught they will go away and leave the house in peace.”
“But they will not leave you in peace,” said Ben, “for I heard that they were determined, being strong Parliamentarians, to put a stop to your recruiting tactics, Master Lisle. So therefore I say—take yourselves to some safe place for a season.”
“To the King’s camp!” said Philip.
“Agreed,” said Jack. “Come, Will, in for a penny, in for a pound. Let us with Master Lisle to the King and see what we can do there. You can return soon if you think it well.”
Now, my blood was somewhat heated by the exciting adventure of the day, and I felt mightily inclined to fall in with Philip Lisle’s counsel. I knew that Ben Tuckett would see to the safety of my mother and sister and of Rose Lisle; and as to the farm, my mother and Jacob Trusty would manage that. However, I did not anticipate any trouble in our neighbourhood, for I felt sure that matters would soon settle themselves, seeing that we were not fond of war and liked trading and moneymaking mightily better.
“Well,” said I, “then I will go with you, but I shall hold myself free to return homewards whenever I please. But now, gentlemen, there are our horses to consider. Are we to leave them where they are, and if so, how are we to get away on foot?”
But it was out of the question that we should leave the horses. Philip Lisle, indeed, would not have left Caesar for all the gold of Peru, and as the other two beasts were mine—one of them my own mount and the other lent to Jack—I did not feel inclined to surrender them to people who had no right to their custody. So we immediately set to work making some plan whereby we could rescue the three animals from the stable where they were secured.
“I am not fond of fighting,” said Ben Tuckett, “but I am a rare hand at a plot. Gentlemen, hearken to me. Jack, you know the house that lies amongst the trees, ’twixt here and Carleton, at the corner of the lane leading from Baghill?”
“Truly,” said Jack; “old Master Hull lives there.”
“That he doth not, because he is dead this three weeks, wherefore the house is shut up and desolate. Now, Jack, I will let thee out through my garden here at the back, and you must take Master Lisle across the fields beneath Friars’ Wood and lie by that house until Will and I bring the horses to you, which I promise you we will not be long in doing. And now, friends, you shall have another mouthful of ale and then away.”
Now, our task in getting easily away from Ben Tuckett’s house was a light one, for those ancient houses in the Marketplace have long outbuildings and gardens in their rear, and at the foot of them is Southgate, and beyond that there lies a stretch of open country, dipping down into a valley and then rising again until it reaches the village of Carleton a mile away. Across the garden and fields it would be easy enough to steal unobserved, and thereafter we should have no difficulty in riding away. To secure our cattle, however, was a difficult matter, for they were lodged at an inn which stood right in the heart of the town, and were, therefore, hard to come at. Nevertheless we were determined not to leave them without a struggle.
Presently, then, Ben conducted Jack Drumbleforth and Philip Lisle out through his rear premises and set them across the fields to the house lately occupied by Master Hull. A fairly dark night it was by good chance, and therefore gave us all the better prospect of escape. It was past midnight when Ben came back from letting them out at the rear gate, and everything was quiet as the grave.
“Now, Will,” said he, “we will go out by the same way, for it will not do for me to unbar my front-door at this time o’ night. Let us pass round the town to Church
