III.—THE EARL OF NITHSDALE'S ESCAPE.
Having vainly solicited a pardon for her husband, the Countess of Nithsdale, a woman of great courage, as well as of great personal attractions, resolved to make an attempt to liberate him.
Before putting her project in execution she found a place of refuge, where the earl might remain safely concealed till he could embark for France.
This done, on the last day it was thought he had to live, she drove to the Tower gate in a hackney-coach, and dismissed the vehicle.
She was accompanied by two female attendants, and seemed so utterly prostrated by grief, that she needed their assistance.
Her attendants wore hoods and cloaks, but not in such a manner as to appear like a disguise.
The earl was confined in a distant fortification situated in the north-west angle of the inner ward, and it seemed certain that the countess would never have got there without support.
A sentinel was stationed at the entrance of the prison lodging, but as the party were preceded by a jailer they passed without question.
When the massive door of his prison chamber was unlocked, Lord Nithsdale came forth from a small inner room, or cell, and perceiving his wife uttered a cry, and clasped her to his breast.
Shortly afterwards, the jailer who was stationed outside, was summoned by one of the female attendants. She told him her services were no longer required, and after a very slight scrutiny he suffered her to depart.
But this active confidante had stayed long enough to divest herself of an additional dress with which she was provided.
This dress was meant as a disguise for the earl, while it was intended that her fellow-servant should personate the afflicted countess.
The exchanges of attire were quickly made.
The earl, whose slight figure and small stature suited the part he had to play, was transformed into a lady's maid; and the representative of the countess was duly prepared for the part she had to enact.
All was now ready, but it was deemed prudent to wait nearly an hour, and it will be guessed what anxiety was felt in the interval.
At length, the jailer was called.
On unlocking the door, he beheld the earl as he thought, in an attitude of despair, leaning on the table, with his face covered by his hands.
The unhappy countess was overwhelmed by grief, and had to be led forth by her attendant, who was muffled up in her hood to hide her own tears.
The jailer's stony heart was touched by so much grief. He let them out without a word, fastened the door, and following them down the circular stone steps, offered in a kindly tone to conduct them to the gate.
The countess murmured her thanks, and the man marched on before them, and saved them from any interference, receiving a piece of gold for his pains, when he left them at the Bulwark Gate.
“Tell your lady,” he said to the attendant, who gave him the gratuity, “that I will do all I can for his lordship to-morrow.”
He would have called a coach, but they took a boat and crossed to the other side of the river.
The first person to enter the prison-chamber after the earl's flight was the Lieutenant of the Tower.
He was filled with consternation on perceiving that its sole occupant was a very handsome woman.
“The Countess of Nithsdale here!” he exclaimed. “The earl then has escaped?”
“Solely by my connivance,” she replied. “No one here has been concerned in the flight.”
“That remains to be ascertained,” rejoined the Lieutenant. “But your ladyship's life will be responsible for that of your husband.”
“My husband is safe, and that is enough for me!” cried the countess, joyfully.
“But he may be recaptured,” said the Lieutenant.
“I have no uneasiness on that score,” she rejoined. “My precautions have been too well taken.”
“Well, I must detain your ladyship,” said the Lieutenant. “And I know not what course may be pursued; but I will frankly own that I hope you may be able to rejoin your lord.”
This good wish was eventually fulfilled.