CHAPTER X. THE ESCAPE
Treading softly, and with ears straining for the slightest sound, thetwo men descended to the first floor of the house. They heard nothingto alarm them as they crept down, and not until they paused on the firstlanding to reconnoitre did they even catch the murmur of voices issuingfrom the guardroom below. So muffled was the sound that Crispin guessedhow matters stood even before he had looked over the balusters intothe hall beneath. The faint grey of the dawn was the only light thatpenetrated the gloom of that pit.
"The Fates are kind, Kenneth," he whispered. "Those fools sit withclosed doors. Come."
But Kenneth laid his hand upon Galliard's sleeve. "What if the doorshould open as we pass?"
"Someone will die," muttered Crispin back. "But pray God that it maynot. We must run the risk."
"Is there no other way?"
"Why, yes," returned Galliard sardonically, "we can linger here until weare taken. But, oddslife, I'm not so minded. Come."
And as he spoke he drew the lad along.
His foot was upon the topmost stair of the flight, when of a sudden thestillness of the house was broken by a loud knock upon the street door.Instantly--as though they had been awaiting it there was a stir of feetbelow and the bang of an overturned chair; then a shaft of yellow lightfell athwart the darkness of the hall as the guardroom door was opened.
"Back!" growled Galliard. "Back, man!"
They were but in time. Peering over the balusters they saw two trooperspass out of the guardroom, and cross the hall to the door. A bolt wasdrawn and a chain rattled, then followed the creak of hinges, and on thestone flags rang the footsteps and the jingling of spurs of those thatentered.
"Is all well?" came a voice, which Crispin recognized as ColonelPride's, followed by an affirmative reply from one of the soldiers.
"Hath a minister visited the malignants?"
"Master Toneleigh is with them even now."
In the hall Crispin could now make out the figures of Colonel Pride andof three men who came with him. But he had scant leisure to survey them,for the colonel was in haste.
"Come, sirs," he heard him say, "light me to their garret. I would seethem--leastways, one of them, before he dies. They are to hang wherethe Moabites hanged Gives yesterday. Had I my way... But, there lead on,fellow."
"Oh, God!" gasped Kenneth, as the soldier set foot upon the stairs.Under his breath Crispin swore a terrific oath. For an instant it seemedto him there was naught left but to stand there and await recapture.Through his mind it flashed that they were five, and he but one; for hiscompanion was unarmed.
With that swiftness which thought alone can compass did he weigh theodds, and judge his chances. He realized how desperate they were did heremain, and even as he thought he glanced sharply round.
Dim indeed was the light, but his sight was keen, and quickened by theimminence of danger. Partly his eyes and partly his instinct toldhim that not six paces behind him there must be a door, and if Heavenpleased it should be unlocked, behind it they must look for shelter.It even crossed his mind in that second of crowding, galloping thought,that perchance the room might be occupied. That was a risk he musttake--the lesser risk of the two, the choice of one of which was forcedupon him. He had determined all this ere the soldier's foot was upon thethird step of the staircase, and before the colonel had commenced theascent. Kenneth stood palsied with fear, gazing like one fascinated atthe approaching peril.
Then upon his ear fell the fierce whisper: "Come with me, and treadlightly as you love your life."
In three long strides, and by steps that were softer than a cat's,Crispin crossed to the door which he had rather guessed than seen. Heran his hand along until he caught the latch. Softly he tried it; itgave, and the door opened. Kenneth was by then beside him. He paused tolook back.
On the opposite wall the light of the trooper's lanthorn fell brightly.Another moment and the fellow would have reached and turned the cornerof the stairs, and his light must reveal them to him. But ere thatinstant was passed Crispin had drawn his companion through, and closedthe door as softly as he had opened it. The chamber was untenantedand almost bare of furniture, at which discovery Crispin breathed morefreely.
They stood there, and heard the ascending footsteps, and the clank-clankof a sword against the stair-rail. A bar of yellow light came under thedoor that sheltered them. Stronger it grew and farther it crept alongthe floor; then stopped and receded again, as he who bore the lanthornturned and began to climb to the second floor. An instant later and thelight had vanished, eclipsed by those who followed in the fellow's wake.
"The window, Sir Crispin," cried Kenneth, in an excited whisper--"thewindow!"
"No," answered Crispin calmly. "The drop is a long one, and we shouldbut light in the streets, and be little better than we are here. Wait."
He listened. The footsteps had turned the corner leading to the floorabove. He opened the door, partly at first, then wide. For an instanthe stood listening again. The steps were well overhead by now; soon theywould mount the last flight, and then discovery must be swift to follow.
"Now," was all Crispin said, and, drawing his sword he led the wayswiftly, yet cautiously, to the stairs once more. In passing he glancedover the rails. The guardroom door stood ajar, and he caught the murmursof subdued conversation. But he did not pause. Had the door stood widehe would not have paused then. There was not a second to be lost; towait was to increase the already overwhelming danger. Cautiously, andleaning well upon the stout baluster, he began the descent. Kennethfollowed him mechanically, with white face and a feeling of suffocationin his throat.
They gained the corner, and turning, they began what was truly theperilous part of their journey. Not more than a dozen steps were there;but at the bottom stood the guardroom door, and through the chink ofits opening a shaft of light fell upon the nethermost step. Once a staircreaked, and to their quickened senses it sounded like a pistol-shot. Asloud to Crispin sounded the indrawn breath of apprehension from Kenneththat followed it. He had almost paused to curse the lad when, thinkinghim of how time pressed, he went on.
Within three steps of the bottom were they, and they could almostdistinguish what was being said in the room, when Crispin stopped, andturning his head to attract Kenneth's attention, he pointed straightacross the hall to a dimly visible door. It was that of the chamberwherein he had been brought before Cromwell. Its position had occurredto him some moments before, and he had determined then upon going thatway.
The lad followed the indication of his finger, and signified by a nodthat he understood. Another step Galliard descended; then from theguardroom came a loud yawn, to send the boy cowering against the wall.It was followed by the sound of someone rising; a chair grated upon thefloor, and there was a movement of feet within the chamber. Had Kennethbeen alone, of a certainty terror would have frozen him to the wall.
But the calm, unmovable Crispin proceeded as if naught had chanced; heargued that even if he who had risen were coming towards the door, therewas nothing to be gained by standing still. Their only chance lay now inpassing before it might be opened.
They that walk through perils in a brave man's company cannot but gainconfidence from the calm of his demeanour. So was it now with Kenneth.The steady onward march of that tall, lank figure before him drew himirresistibly after it despite his tremors. And well it was for him thatthis was so. They gained the bottom of the staircase at length; theystood beside the door of the guardroom, they passed it in safety. Thenslowly--painfully slowly--to avoid their steps from ringing upon thestone floor, they crept across towards the door that meant safety to SirCrispin. Slowly, step by step, they moved, and with every stride Crispinlooked behind him, prepared to rush the moment he had sign they werediscovered. But it was not needed. In silence and in safety they werepermitted to reach the door. To Crispin's joy it was unfastened. Quietlyhe opened it, then with calm gallantry he motioned to his companion togo first, holding it for him as he passed in, and keeping wat
ch with eyeand ear the while.
Scarce had Kenneth entered the chamber when from above came the soundof loud and excited voices, announcing to them that their flight was atlast discovered. It was responded to by a rush of feet in the guardroom,and Crispin had but time to dart in after his companion and close thedoor ere the troopers poured out into the hall and up the stairs, withconfused shouts that something must be amiss.
Within the room that sheltered him Crispin chuckled, as he ran his handalong the edge of the door until he found the bolt, and softly shot ithome.
"'Slife," he muttered, "'twas a close thing! Aye, shout, you cuckolds,"he went on. "Yell yourselves hoarse as the crows you are! You'll hang uswhere Gives are hanged, will you?"
Kenneth tugged at the skirts of his doublet. "What now?" he inquired.
"Now," said Crispin, "we'll leave by the window, if it please you."
They crossed the room, and a moment or two later they had dropped onto the narrow railed pathway overlooking the river, which Crispin hadobserved from their prison window the evening before. He had observed,too, that a small boat was moored at some steps about a hundred yardsfarther down the stream, and towards that spot he now sped alongthe footpath, followed closely by Kenneth. The path sloped in thatdirection, so that by the time the spot was reached the water flowed notmore than six feet or so beneath them. Half a dozen steps took themdown this to the moorings of that boat, which fortunately had not beenremoved.
"Get in, Kenneth," Crispin commanded. "There, I'll take the oars, andI'll keep under shelter of the bank lest those blunderers should bethinkthem of looking out of our prison window. Oddswounds, Kenneth, I amhungry as a wolf, and as dry--ough, as dry as Dives when he begged for asup of water. Heaven send we come upon some good malignant homestead erewe go far, where a Christian may find a meal and a stoup of ale. 'Tis amiracle I had strength enough to crawl downstairs. Swounds, but an emptystomach is a craven comrade in a desperate enterprise. Hey! Have a care,boy. Now, sink me if this milksop hasn't fainted!"
The Tavern Knight Page 11