“Are you fresh enough to ride?” he asked.
“If need be,” Randolph replied, astonished.
Rufus talked rapidly, writing a letter as he spoke.
“Then you may save your Puritan yet. We sent your hostage to Oxford for safe-keeping. News came of your death, and but now the King sent an order to have the fellow shot. But you can overtake the order, outstrip it. Here is a reprieve for the prisoner.”
Rufus folded the paper, sealed it, and handed it to the bewildered Randolph.
“Pick what horse you please, and ride for the honor of our cause.”
Randolph gasped.
“May I not see the King?”
Rufus refused him firmly.
“Impossible. His Majesty sleeps.”