Oddsfish!

fallen ill there in the service of my Lord Stafford-being himself a Catholic, and a very good one, for he went to the sacraments three or four times in the year, wherever he was.

nd silent, though I had not as ye

solemnity, "I have something to sa

waiting o

Mr. Chiffinch had told me). "He hath been branded on the hand for some conviction. I tell you this that

as on some business, and that therefore I was in some danger

-without lying anywhere on the road. You must have the horses here, and all ready, by seven o'clock in the morning. And you must

e are known or suspected of anything. I tell you plainly that both you and I may be in some danger for

you please," said James, as the

sure; but no more; and he

ve to say. You may bring su

rred His Majesty's packet to a belt that I

*

t amongst them was the commission which His Majesty had given me. What then could such a business be?-a packet that I must carry with me, and deliver to a man whose name should be give

the King's word on it that they should not suffer; and, when I considered, there was no obligation or even any reason at all that he should talk out the matter with myself. Yet, though I presently put this affair too from my mind, since I had no certain knowledge of what would happen, it

ing against the Catholics. But I had written back to him that nothing was to be feared if he would but stay still and hold his tongue; and that I myself would be with him presently, I hoped, and would reassure him; for in spite of the hot feeling in London the country Catholics suffered from it little or not at all, so long as they minded their own business. But it was principally of my Cousin Dolly that I thought; for the m

ouses; and before that we stayed again for dinner at the Four Swans in Waltham Cross, where the host knew me again and asked how matters were in London; and we came at last in sight of the

deserted; and it was not till I had beaten once more at the door that I saw a light shewing beneath it. Presently a very unsteady voice cried out to know who was there; and I knew it for my Cousin Tom's; so I roared at him that it was myself.

I was impatient with the long waiting and the

g," said my Cousin Tom, looking a little foolish,

g yesterday," I said. "And what

ke; (the two men were gone away into the back of

rous folks about, Cou

house,

y came through from the back of the house where she had been sent by

in her dark dress, with her lace on, for supper was just on the table; and I c

id. "I thought it might very well be

*

he would not. It appeared that when the news of Sir Edmund's death had come, there had been something of a to-do in the village, of no great signification; for it was no more than a few young men who marched up and down shouting together-as such yokels will, upon the smallest excuse; and one of them had cried out at the gate

y him. I said that I had been a good deal at the Jesuits' lodgings; and at the trial of t

s mouth and was holding it in h

se, you have but to say the word, and I will be off. On the other hand, I

im off?" ask

and then I stopped: for I had no

m. "Then you have bee

to pass it off. "I have b

he pipe back aga

and I had named it as such to His Majesty). "It is not right, Cousin Tom, that you should

int in some respects. (For all that I did for him when I was here, in the fields and at the farm, more than repaid him for the expense of my living there.) He protested

*

es again. Yet my satisfaction was greatly broken up when I heard, on the last day of January that all that I had feared was come about, and that of the three men whom I had seen condemned at the O

rt inn to get my horse to ride back again, when I ran into Mr. Rumbald who was there on the same errand. I was in

cried-"It is Mr.

d him

to a thing, do not easily change it, and he was persuaded that I was of his kind and something of a daredevil

ek ago-Ireland and Grove, I mean. And there be three or four more men

e in my heart than I had thought. But I was collected enough to say something

four?" I asked. "A

ere will be another batch p

t had the King exercised his prerogative of mercy; and if he yielded at the first, and that a

as I came in that something was t

peace," she said;

*

Edmund's murder, through the testimony of Bedloe, who said that he had himself seen the body at Somerset House, and that Sir Edmund had been strangled there by priests and others and conveyed later to the ditch in Primrose Hill where he was found. Another fellow, too, named Miles Prance, a silversmith in Princes Street (out of Drury Lane), who was said by Bedloe to have been privy to the murder,

n-Whitbread, Fenwick, Harcourt, Gavan and Turner-all priests. But I had not a great deal of hope for these, when I thought of what had happened to the rest; and, indeed, at the end of May, Mr. Pickering himself was executed. At the beginning of May too, we heard of the bloody murder of Dr. Sharpe, the Protestant Archbishop in Scotland,

re wits than I had thought; for he said no more to me on the point, nor I to him; and I think I should have spoken to her that summer, had not an interruption come to my plans that set all aside

tion came in

r, from what happened afterwards); and when he came back he asked if he might speak with me privately. When I had him alone in my room he told

ne, for they came there about noon. I asked him then if any of them had any mark by which he could be known; and he laughed at that; and

t, for I was considering whether so small a busi

t then?"

villages where it might be easy to miss them; and in Puckeridge, as I came by

k after the

est not. But I pushed on

Cross tell you what answer

only from the parlour window

on the other if they were after me I had best be gone as soon as I could. It was six months since the fellow Dangerfield had asked after me at Whitehall, and no harm had fo

e any more ne

s ago, and Mr. Langhorn a day later, and that they were all sentenced together." (Mr. Lan

with a branded hand asking after me in Waltham Cross. Oates and Bedloe and Tonge and Kirby and a score of others were evidence that any man who sought his fortune might very well do so in Popish plots and accusations; and

air, thinking that if I were hunted out of Hare Street I had nowhere to go; and then on a sudden I remembered the King's packet which he had given me, and which I still carried,

dy for it. Then take the valises and the horses down to the meadow, through the garden, and tie all up there, under the shadow of the trees from where you can see the house. And you must remain there yourself till twelve o'clock to-night. At twelve o'clock, as near as I can tell

thought it out all beforehand, if ever

l, and went away, and I down to the Gre

up with a great snuffle; and stared at me as

e said. "I am hal

g; and I think she knew that something was

m," I said. "There is a ma

e King's packet; and by the time I was done he was no longer at all drowsy. I t

his eyes, lest he too should be embroiled. But my Cousin Dorothy lo

and wait there, if you wish it, until morning:

two minds as to whether I should go at al

but I could see that he wan

rst and see whether James has the horses out; and you had best meanwhile go to m

rd my Cousin Dorothy come after me; and

m ashamed that my father

ere mi

htly, "if you were mistress,

as her way was when she liked. "It is a shame that y

past he told me he already had the horses tied under the trees. I nodded to him

away," I said. "They will not be here, at any r

to carry down to the hiding-hole above the door; my papers he already had put away into the little recess b

es at every sound; and, at the last, we had all put away, and were about to

then, "There was a s