"And will you--will you stay in his place?" asked Emmeline, gazing in her face, with a look of wonder and gratitude. "What will you say when they find you there? You have no such excuse as I have."
"I will say, lady," replied the woman, earnestly, "that he drank the milk from this breast as an infant; that he was to me as a child, when God had taken my own; that he was my nursling, my beloved, my only one, when I had lost all else, on earth who loved me, or whom. I could love. Then, if they choose to shorten my days or make me pass them in a prison, it is but little they can take away and little they can inflict. It must be so indeed, Lady; and now we are only losing time. They will not let us pass in or out after eleven. It is now past nine, and it will take some time to disguise him as we wish. Haste then, to get on your hood. I am quite ready. With this sacque above my other clothes, and a large French capote, everything is ready to hide his face and figure."
Emmeline looked down thoughtfully; but she said nothing, for her heart was too full to speak, and in a few minutes they set out upon their adventure, followed by two men servants, whom the old housekeeper had already prepared for the task in hand.
The moment they were gone, however, one of Sir John Newark's men, who had lived at Ale for several years, and who had been accustomed to act as one of his spies upon all that took place in the house, crept silently out and pursued them with a stealthy step down the little street. He saw them cross Tower Hill, and obtain admission at the gates; and then, turning to the right, he approached a house in a neighbouring street, hurrying his walk as much as he could without converting it into a run. At the moment he reached the door, one of the ordinary hackney coaches of the day drew up, and a gentleman in somewhat brilliant attire descended with a slow step. The man waited till he had paid the fare, and then plucked him by the sleeve, whispering something in his ear. The gloomy and discontented face of the other instantly cleared up, and he exclaimed, with a mocking laugh--"Ha, ha! Then they have put themselves in the trap. I will away to the Tower. You stay and watch at the gates. But no--better let them be caught in the very act, just when they fancy themselves secure. It will be more meritorious to bring him back after he has actually escaped than to prevent him from doing so. You are sure, quite sure? It would never do to take an old raven instead of a young hawk."
"I am quite sure," replied the man; "for I overheard it all, as I listened at the hole I have made in the wall. This morning, I could not make out which of the two it is who is to play his part; but just now I heard, and I am quite certain. The old woman was his nurse, it seems, and is ready to sacrifice her life for him."
"Well, well, go to the gates and watch," rejoined William Newark. "Give instant information if they come forth. I will go and get a messenger. There is one lives hard by."
The servant did as the other bade him; but he had not remained many minutes near the gates of the Tower when some quick steps approached, and he turned round towards the new corners.
"Ha, ha, old Truepenny!" said Richard Newark, taking the man's arm in a firm grasp; "what are you on the watch for here?"
"Nothing, Master Richard," answered the man. "I am only just taking the air."
"You won't let your intentions take the air, at all events," retorted Richard Newark. "I know you, serviceable knave! This is the fellow," he continued, turning to the two young men who accompanied him, "this is the fellow who informed of the smuggled tea."