At this he knew not whether to be mollified or yet more indignant, and so did the very thing I had been aiming at--he held his tongue. Thus we proceeded in a moody silence until we were hard by Soho. Then he asked suddenly:
"What drags you in such a scurry to Bristol?"
"I would give much to know myself," I answered. "I journey thither at the instance of a friend who lies in dire peril. But that is the whole sum of my knowledge. I have not so much as a hint of the purport of my service."
"A friend! What friend?" he inquired with something of a start, and looked at me earnestly.
"Sir Julian Harnwood," said I, and he stopped abruptly in his walk.
"Ah!" he said; then he looked on the ground, and swore a little to himself.
"You know what threatens him?" said I; but he made me no answer and resumed his walk, quickening his pace. "Tell me!" I entreated. "His servant came to me at Leyden six days ago, but was seized by a fit or ever he could out with his message. So I learnt no more than this--that Julian lies in Bristol gaol and hath need of me."
"But the assizes begin to-day," he interrupted, with an air of triumph. "You are over-late to help him."
"Ah, no!" I pleaded. "I may yet reach there in time. Julian may haply be amongst the last to come to trial?"
"'Twere most unlikely," returned he, with a snap of his teeth. "My Lord Jeffries wastes no time in weighing evidence. Why, at Taunton, but a fortnight ago, one hundred and forty-five prisoners were disposed of within three days. The man does not try; he executes. There's but one outlook for your friend, and that's through the noose of a rope. Jeffries holds a strict mandate from the King, I tell you, for the King's heart is full of anger against the rebels."