Without another word, Warwick left the chamber. Hilyard at first could not believe his senses; but as he dressed himself in haste, he pondered over all those causes of dissension which had long notoriously subsisted between Edward and the earl, and rejoiced that the prophecy that he had long so shrewdly hazarded was at last fulfilled. Descending the stairs he gained the gate, where Marmaduke awaited him, while a groom held a stout haquenee (as the common riding-horse was then called), whose points and breeding promised speed and endurance.
"Mount, Master Robin," said Marmaduke; "I little thought we should
ever ride as friends together! Mount!—our way for some miles out of
London is the same. You go into Lincolnshire, I into the shire of
Hertford."
"And for the same purpose?" asked Hilyard, as he sprang upon his horse, and the two men rode briskly on.
"Yes!"
"Lord Warwick is changed at last?"
"At last!"
"For long?"
"Till death!"
"Good, I ask no more!"
A sound of hoofs behind made the franklin turn his head, and he saw a goodly troop, armed to the teeth, emerge from the earl's house and follow the lead of Marmaduke. Meanwhile Warwick was closeted with Montagu.