“Nay,” said she, “you draw lines too fine for me. What I learnt in my youth is truth enough for me.”
“So do many think,” said Avery. “But there is yet an other question, Mrs Basset, which they shall some day have to front, though they will not now; and that is, whether it be truth enough for God?”
But to that she made no answer.
The fugitives journeyed as quietly as possible, yet as quickly as was safe, until the Saturday. And then, about four o’clock, as they gained the ridge of a hill, Dr Thorpe, who rode first, suddenly drew bridle.
“Back, all of you!” cried he. “Hide you behind the rocks yonder. An immense crowd of men is in the valley, advancing this way. If these be the commons, God be our help, for we can have none other.”
“We can sell our lives dearly, at least,” said Avery, looking to his matchlock.
“We that be men were best to light off our horses,” pursued Dr Thorpe, “and leave the women thereon, that they may fly the faster if need be. Set them and the childre behind, and thou, Jack, with me and Tom and Dickon, stand out afore.”
“They shall fly cruel slow on yon old black jade,” said Tom, grinning.
“Master,” inquired Dickon (who was a Somerset man), “if they catch I, what shall they do to I?”
“Hold your idle tongues!” answered Dr Thorpe sternly, “and see that your arms are in good order. Robin, shall we count thee a man, or as one of the childre?”