In the Wars of the Roses: A Story for the Young by Evelyn Everett-Green (surface ebook reader txt) 📖

"I think not so. I think they will guess that we shall make for one of the southern ports, by which France can be the more easily reached. If these wild robbers have left their former haunts to pursue us, we may well be safest nearest to their lair. And we know not the country to the south, whilst this great forest seems like a friend to us; and we have sturdy friends within its sheltering aisles if we are hard pressed. We can quicker reach the coast, too, that way than any other. And the good brothers you have spoken of at Leighs Priory will give us shelter tomorrow night, if we cannot make shift to push on to the coast in one day."

There seemed sound sense in the counsel thus offered by the prince, and Paul was ever ready to obey his wishes, if he saw no objection to them. They appeared to be menaced by peril on all sides, and he would have been thankful if the prince would have thrown himself into the keeping of his kingly sire; but as he had declined to do this, and was not of the stuff to be balked of his will, the next best thing was to slip off in silence and secrecy, and Paul thought it quite probable that the route least watched and guarded might well be the one which led back through the forest again.

But it would not do to appear as if suspicious; and leaving Edward locked up in the attic chamber--hoping that no one had observed his entrance into the inn--he went down into the common room, where preparations for supper were going on.

There were a larger number of persons collected in the inn than usual that night, and Paul fancied that many sharp glances were fastened upon him as he entered the room. But he kept command over his countenance well, and walked forward toward the fire with an air of easy assurance. The peddler was sitting in the warmest corner, and pushed away his next neighbour to make room for Paul, who took the vacant seat readily. The man very quickly led up to the subject of his companion and kinsman (laying an apparent and rather suspicious emphasis on that word), asking if he did not mean to come to supper, since he had seen him enter the inn at dusk.

Paul replied that his comrade was unwell, and that he would retire early to bed, and have something hot to take there. He was resolved that Edward should not be exposed to the gaze of these rough men, whose faces inspired him with the greatest uneasiness.

Edward should be supposed to be sick, and that might divert attention from his movements for the time being; and, long before the morning dawned, he hoped that they might both be far away from this ill-omened spot.

"Ill!" quoth the peddler; "no doubt a colic or a chill, taken in this villainous cold weather. I have a draught here that acts like a charm in all such cases. If you will permit me, I will mix it for you in a stoup of hot spiced wine, and I warrant he will sleep like a dormouse all night, and wake in the morning as well as ever."

Paul thanked the peddler, and the ingredients of the draught were called for. He watched its preparation keenly, and noted that several meaning glances were exchanged between the peddler and his associates--as he now believed half the men in the inn to be. He told the landlord to prepare two trenchers to be carried upstairs, as he would sup with his friend that night; and he presently carried up the hot and steaming tankard, together with the platters of the savoury viands for which London was famous.

Edward had meantime kindled the rushlight and set light to a small fire on the hearth, for the weather was bitterly cold. The peddler had advised Paul to partake of the hot draught also, and the landlord had not heeded his request to place a tankard of ale on the tray also: so that if either of the youths were to drink at all, it must be of the potion concocted by the peddler.

This fact greatly increased Paul's suspicions, which were quickly shared by Edward.

"We will not touch a drop of it," he said, "although it is tempting enough this cold night. It is either drugged or poisoned, and given us to keep us a certain prey for tonight. Perhaps in the end it will prove our best friend; for if they think us tied by the heel, they may be less vigilant in the watch they keep upon us."

It was not with much appetite that the comrades ate their supper, but they knew that they might need all their strength before the next hours had passed, and they ate heartily from that motive. Their trenchers had been so liberally piled, however, that there was plenty of broken meat and bread left when they had finished, and this was first allowed to grow cold, and then packed away into one of their wallets, as it might be some considerable time before they tasted food again, save such as they had with them.

Paul made several excursions from the room to ask for this thing or that, keeping up the fiction that his comrade was sick; and each time he did so he found some person or another guarding the door--at least watching hard by--though apparently bent upon some private errand. He came to the conclusion at last that their movements were most certainly spied upon, and that to attempt to escape through the house that night would be impossible. A few cautious words (which he caught as he entered the room where the peddler and his companions were sitting) confirmed his impression that Edward was certainly suspected, if not actually identified, and that he would not be allowed to pass out of sight until suspicion was either verified or laid at rest. He fancied, from the few words he heard, that these men were awaiting a companion who would be able absolutely to identify the prince, if it were really he, and that meantime they did not intend that either of the youths should escape their surveillance.

It was with a sinking heart that Paul returned to Edward with this news. But peril seemed only to act like a tonic upon the nerves of the younger lad; and springing to his feet with energy and resolution, he cried with flashing eyes:

"And so they think to make a prisoner of the eaglet of England's royal house! Let them try. Let them do their worst. They shall see that his wings are strong enough for a higher and more daring flight than they dream of; that he will not be fettered by a cage of their treacherous making! Paul, it is not for nothing that I have lain awake long nights dreaming dreams of peril and escape. I know how we will outwit our pursuers this very night. Say, can yon swim, as you can do all else that a brave Englishman should?"

"Like a fish," answered Paul, who had many a time terrified and astonished his mother by his feats in the salmon pool at home, and had never lost the skill and strength to battle with wind or wave.

"Good! I was sure of it; and I can do the same. Paul, come here to the window. See you no means of escape as you look down into that dark, sullen water below?"

Paul started and looked eagerly out. The inn, as has before been said, stood on the banks of the great river Thames. Indeed, it was built so close to the waterside that the walls were washed by the lapping waves on the backside of the house, and the windows looked sheer down into the turbid, sullen stream. No watch could be kept on this side, nor did it seem to be needful; for the old inn was a lofty building of its kind, and the black water lay some sixty feet below the small window of the room in which Paul and his companion lodged. No man in his senses, it seemed, would hazard such a leap, and none but an expert swimmer would care or dare to trust himself to that swiftly-flowing flood, which might so easily sweep him to his doom. And on a freezing December night the idea of escape in such a fashion seemed altogether madness itself.

Even Paul, menaced by a danger that might be worse than death, drew in his head with something of a shudder; but Edward had dived into a little press that stood in the room, and brought out a coil of stout, strong rope. Paul gave a cry of surprise and pleasure.

"Some instinct warned me it might be wanted. See here, Paul. We can tie one end to this heavy bedstead, knotting it also around the bolt of the door, and we can glide down like two veritable shadows, and drop silently into the river: Then we must swim to one of those small wherries which lie at anchor beside the sleeping barges. I know exactly what course to steer for that; and once aboard, we cut her loose, and row for dear life down with the tide, till we can find some deserted spot where we can land, and thence we make our way back to the coast through the friendly forest, as we planned."

"On foot?"

"Ay, we must leave our good steeds behind; it would be madness to seek to take them. We are young and strong, and this frost makes walking easy. We shall speed so well that we may chance to reach the shelter of the Priory ere night falls on us again, and then the worst of our troubles will be over. Say, Paul, will you come with me? Will you follow me?"

"To the death, my prince," answered Paul with enthusiasm; yet even as he spoke a sort of shiver came over him, as though he had pronounced his own doom. But he shook it off, and fell to upon the simple preparations to be made.

These were very simple, and consisted of rolling up into a compact bundle their outer dress and a change of under tunic, which they fastened, together with their food wallet and arms, upon their heads, in the hope that they might keep them from the water. They slung their boots about their necks, and then, with as little clothing as possible upon them, commenced their stealthy descent down the rope, which had been firmly attached as suggested by the prince. Edward went first, whilst Paul remained in the room to guard against surprise, and to hold the end if it slipped or gave. But no such casualty befell; and the moment he heard the slight splash which told that the prince had reached the water, he swung himself lightly down the rope, and fell with a soft splash beside him.

But oh, how cold it was in that dark water! Hardy though the pair were, it seemed impossible to live in that fearful cold; but they struck out valiantly into midstream, and presently the exercise of swimming brought a little life into their benumbed limbs. But glad indeed was Paul to reach the side of the little wherry which they intended to purloin, and it was all that their united efforts could do to clamber in and cut the cord which bound it to the barge.

"We must row hard, Edward," said Paul, with chattering teeth; "it is our only chance of life. We shall freeze to death if we cannot get some warmth into our blood. I feel like a block of ice."

They were too much benumbed to try and dress themselves yet, but as they rowed their hardest along the dark, still water, the life came ebbing back into their chilled limbs, and with the welcome warmth came that exultation of heart which always follows escape from deadly peril. With more and more vigour they bent to their oars, and at last Edward spoke in a natural voice again.

"Let us float down quietly with the stream a while, Paul, whilst we don our dry garments, if indeed they are dry. It will be better here than on shore, where we might chance to be seen and suspected. I am glowing hot now, freezing night though it be; but I confess I should be more comfortable rid of these soaking clothes."

So stripping off these, they found, to their great satisfaction, that the leather jerkins in which the other clothing had been wrapped had kept everything dry, and the feel of warm and sufficient clothing was grateful indeed after the icy bath they had encountered. Their boots were wet, but that mattered little to the hardy striplings; and when, dressed and armed, they bent to their oars again, it seemed as if all their spirit