"This is the cross road mentioned in the packet. What think ye now of the writer? Dost trust him?" I asked.
"I trust him, and yet I feel some fear. I know not why; but a nameless something doth stir up in my mind a dread of some calamity."
"Shall we then go search for some place for ourselves?"
"Oh, no! It must be but foolish maiden timidity. Let us proceed and trust the letter, after the way that it hath rescued thee."
So we turned unto our right and, as the letter had said, we came, after travelling some three miles, upon a large house set back some distance from the road. From a window in the upper story a small flag of England did hang lazily. The house looked as it had been described—unoccupied; so feeling re-assured we rode into the grounds. I then held Michael's steed whilst he went forward and tried the door. It was unlocked; so he entered. He then returned, at my call, and reported everything as well, so far as he could see, though he desired to inspect it further ere we entered. This I did consider to be unnecessary. We then tied our horses to some trees near the door, and walked in.
The room was large and square, and in the centre a round pillar arose from floor to ceiling. The furniture consisted of a long and broad, heavy oaken table and some three or four chairs, scattered carelessly around the room. Several closed and heavy doors, leading to where we knew not, were set into the walls at irregular intervals. The general appearance of the interior gave one the impression of recent occupation; though now it did seem undoubtedly to be vacant.
Michael placed the basket upon the table, and we at once proceeded to make ourselves comfortable.
"Ah! my dear, we shall have a pleasant holiday, and in the evening return. Our dear friend, Master Catesby, shall arrive at Westminster to find that the bird hath flown. Then he may curse his misfortune and proceed to join his murderous master. Pray God I do but meet him in the field. Then shall there be no truncheon to be flung down to stop our fight, as was done at the tournament."
"Yes, Walter dear, methought that thou hadst killed him when, with your great sword, you drove him senseless from his horse."
"But how didst thou see the tournament?" I asked in wonderment.