The advice was put into practice. The hoofs drew near, accompanied by a jingling sound which seemed to come from pottery. It was now near one o’clock. The ladies kept as still as mice. They were not reassured when the sound came to a stand-still, just before the gate of the field where they were hidden, and a man’s voice, strange to them, said—
“It was just here I lost the sight of the lanterns. They cannot be far off.”
Mrs Collenwood felt Pandora’s hand clasp her wrist tight in the darkness.
“Bide a moment, Tom, and I will search in the field,” said another voice.
Mrs Collenwood gave all up for lost.
“Mistress Pandora, are you there?” said the voice which had last spoken.
“Aunt Frances, ’tis Mr Hall!” cried Pandora joyfully.
“Ah! I am right glad I have found you,” said Roger, as he came up to them. “I have been searching you this hour, being confident, from what I heard, that you would attempt to get away to-night. I pray you to allow of my company.”
“In good sooth, Mr Hall, we be right thankful of your good company,” answered Mrs Collenwood. “’Tis ill work for two weak women such as we be.”
“Truly, my mistress, methinks you must both have lion-like hearts, so much as to think of essaying your escape after this fashion. You will be the safer for my presence. I have here an ass laden with pots and pans, and driven by a good man and true, a Gospeller to boot—one of your own men from the cloth-works, that is ready to guard his master’s daughter at the hazard of his life if need be. If you be willing, good my mistress, to sell tins and pitchers in this present need—”