“Why, of course,” said Waller sadly. “Doesn’t it mean that I have to keep my promise and help to get you away?”
“Yes,” said Godfrey softly, and his fingers began to grip his companion’s shoulder; “but some day I hope that I shall be able to cross over again, not as a poor fugitive, but in peace, and come here and see you, if you will have me when I am not a prisoner.”
“If I will have you, lad!” cried Waller enthusiastically. “Why, you know I will; and my father will be glad to see you too, if you don’t come, as old Bunny said, to try and steal the crown. Why, of course, you and I are going to be friends always. And you will write to me, and I shall write to you.”
“Yes, yes; of course,” cried Godfrey eagerly. “I don’t want to go away, Waller, but I must; and as that man—Bunny you call him—does not bring us any news, I want you to let me start off to-morrow night as soon as it is dark, and make my way to Southampton.”
“To be caught and put in prison,” cried Waller, “and— Bother that owl! That’s the third time it has hooted this last five minutes. No!” he cried in an excited whisper, as he rested his hands on the window-sill. “Hist! It’s Bunny Wrigg!” And then, clapping his hands to each side of his mouth, he softly imitated with wonderful accuracy the call of one of the woodland owls.
“Hoi hoi hoi hoi hoi!”
“Pee-week! Pee-week! Pee-week!” came from below them in the shrubbery a little to their left.
“All right, Bunny,” whispered Waller. “I’ll come down.”
“Nay, lad; hold hard. I’m coming up.”
The darkness was so dense that, as the lads gazed down, they had but a mere glimpse of a shadowy animal, as it seemed to be running across the lawn, and directly after there was a faint, soft rustling in the thick ivy.