"Wenn der Lenzerwacht, und wenn Liebesmacht
Dich gefesselt hält mit Leide,
Wandle nicht allein, Nachts im Mondenschein,
Durch die grüne, grüne Haide."
M. NATHUSIUS.
Mrs. Joyce ushered her guest up the wide staircase with due ceremony and volubility. He was aware that faces peered from half-open doors and whispered remarks went round as he came out into the hall with the landlady, and when he began to ascend the stairs in her wake, the household ventured forth and watched his progress with admiration and awe.
The maid, who carried in the sumptuous feast Mrs. Joyce provided, glanced nervously around as she deposited her dishes clattering on the table, and fled as quickly as she could, and Mrs. Joyce herself, who followed to superintend, was evidently ill at ease, and her hands trembled as she re-ordered the maid's hasty arrangements. But, in spite of her alarms, it was with considerable difficulty that Mr. Rogers cut short her scoldings and apologies, and induced her to leave him to himself.
When the good woman had at last been persuaded to depart, Mr. Rogers took a careful survey of the room, and then he softly bolted the door and drew a heavy tapestry curtain across it. Then he walked over to the great fireplace and stood at one side of it, close to the panelled wall.
"Mistress Perrient," he said, in a low but clear voice; "Miss Perrient, I pray you let me speak with you. I am John Rogers, and I promise you, on my faith as a minister of the gospel, I will betray you neither to your enemies not yet to your friends. I have come hither to pray you to let me be instrumental in your escape, and seeing that I also have often times been both fugitive and a prisoner, I pray you to trust me as a friend."
He stood and waited, and all was silent. Then he spoke again—
"Mistress Perrient, I take God to witness I am a true man. I pray you trust me and be not afraid. There is no one here but I; if you will but speak with me, no one shall be told. Your secret is indeed safe."
There was a sound of a bolt shot back, and then a panel swung slowly forward. There, in a doorway, stood Audrey Perrient, a very deplorable sight, with her tear-stained face and disordered dress.
"My poor child!" cried the minister, stepping hastily forward and taking her hand. "You are indeed in a sorry plight! Madam, it goes to my heart to see you thus! I pray you come forth and sit by the fire—the door is safely fastened. Why, you look well-nigh as white as did my wife when she lay sick in Carisbrook Castle. Before I say aught further, you must eat and drink." And he poured out a cup of wine and carried to her.
"How did you know I was here?" demanded Audrey, with a scared face, disregarding his hospitable care.