'Oh! I pray you let me go,' and Bryda, scarcely waiting for an answer, ran upstairs, threw on her cloak and covered her head with its hood, and then was out of the house and on her way towards Rownham Ferry.
'The shortest way, oh! which is the shortest way. Shall I be able to get to the thorn tree by three o'clock. I know the tree, and the road when I am once out of Bristol.'
At this moment she met Chatterton, whom she stopped, waking him from one of his dreams.
'Oh, Miss Palmer, I was on my way towards the square, hoping I might be so happy as to meet you and your true knight. But what ails you?'
'I have had a summons to meet Bet, my sister. She is in great trouble, something has happened. Put me in the way to get to the road to Dundry.'
'I will show you the way, and glad to do so,' Chatterton said. 'I am sorry for your distress, Miss Palmer, but let us hope things are not so bad as you fear. I am in good heart to-day,' he said, his fine face shining with hope and boyish gladness, 'let me give you some of my "Holy sister's" influence.'
Then he walked with Bryda to the ferry. When once on the other side of the river she could find her way to the foot of the winding road which led up to Dundry.
Bryda held the crumpled piece of paper in her hand and scanned it again.
'Bet has written it so ill I can scarce read it,' she said. 'That word is distress, is it not, Mr Chatterton?'
Chatterton took the paper and examined it closely.