Again, by extraordinary will power, he would achieve the almost impossible feat of forcing himself to sleep. It was Aline’s only chance, he argued; and in that way he almost miraculously overcame the raging torments of his mind.
By the Wednesday he had even recovered slightly and felt rather like one going into battle than like a beaten man. He had thought out several plans; but the best one was to try and contrive to cross the ford of the Eden when it was getting dark. For this some delay was necessary, and he even managed to whisper to Wilfred unobserved, while he set the company off into boisterous and uncontrollable laughter, that he should loosen one of the horse’s shoes. He reckoned further to be able to do something more in the way of delay by his powers of conversation.
Another part of his scheme was to put his captors off the scent, if he should succeed in making his escape, and therefore he took occasion to remark; “Well, Father, and when we set out on our travels, whither are we bound? Is it south we shall be going?”
“Forsooth, man, you do not think we should go north, do you?”
“No, may be not; but I should like to see Scotland again.”
“Trouble not yourself, you will never see Scotland more; and when next I visit Scotland the Regent Mary will be glad to hear that her daughter has one heretic the less among her subjects.”
“But what if I should reach Scotland first,” said Ian jocularly. “That might spoil the pleasure of your visit.”
“There is no fear of that,” replied the other.
“Bishop Bonner may think differently from yourself,” Ian rejoined; “it is not every heretic that even Bonner burns. There’s many a slip twixt cup and lip; and Bonner might send me to Scotland if I promised to stay there. I warrant if once I were on that side again, there would be little temptation to come over.”
“Come, this is no time for talking, we must be off,” said Father Austin.