'Now, tell me all you know of this calamity.'
Ned told the story in a few simple words. The black man had been skulking about Penshurst for some time. He had scared Mistress Lucy, and the boy had seen him near the house. Mistress Gifford had gone out early to look after the shepherd, who was seeking a lost lamb, and the black man had come out of a hollow. Then Mistress Gifford had run with all her might, and, worse luck, she stumbled and fell in a swoon, and when Jenkyns found her she had come out of it, but was moaning with pain, and grieving for the boy.
'And no wonder,' Ned said; 'there's not a soul at the farm that didn't think a mighty deal of that child. He was a plague sometimes, I'll warrant, but—' and Ned drew his sleeve across his eyes, and his low guttural voice faltered, as he said,—'Folks must be made of stone if they don't feel fit to thrash that popish devil for kidnapping him, and going near to break Madam Gifford's heart, who is a saint on earth.'
'You are a good fellow,' Humphrey said fervently. 'Now, take off those heavy boots and rest, while I tax my brains, till I decide what is best to do.'
With a mighty kick Ned sent his rough boots flying, one after the other, across the room, and then, without more ado, curled up his ungainly figure on the settle, and before Humphrey could have believed it possible, he was snoring loudly, his arm thrown under his head, and his tawny red locks in a tangled mass, spread upon the softest cushion on which the cowboy had ever rested.
Humphrey Ratcliffe paced the chamber at intervals till daybreak, and was only longing for action, to be able to do something to relieve Mary's distress—to scour the country till he found a trace of the villain, and rescue the boy from his clutches.
This must be his immediate aim; but to do this he must gain leave from his chief.
The tournament was over, but the Queen would most certainly require Mr Sidney's attendance at Hampton Court Palace, whither it was rumoured she was shortly to go in state, in the royal barge, with the French Ambassador.
Humphrey grew feverishly anxious for the time when he could see Mr Sidney, and hailed the noises in the courtyard and the voices of the grooms, who were rubbing down the tired horses after the conflicts of the previous day, and examining their hurts received in the fray, which were in some cases very severe.
Mr Sidney's rooms were reached by another staircase, and as the big clock of the palace struck five, Humphrey went down into the porter's hall and inquired of one of the attendants if Mr Sidney was stirring.