"That we will find out. Meantime, you were best leave this place at once. My good sister here hath a lodging house, though a humble one, which she owes to her Grace's goodness, and she will give you a shelter for the present."
"That I will, that I will, dear madam," said Dame Giles. "You don't remember me, and no wonder, but I mind you well, as you used to go on the water with her Grace. Yes, and you was once at my place to ask after the poor, foreign gentleman her Grace sent to lodge with me."
"But shall I not bring trouble upon you, good dame?" I asked.
"Never fear, madam. I fancy I am too small game for them at present. Do you come with me and I will make you as comfortable as my poor house will allow."
"I care not for comfort, so I may be near my husband," I answered. "Oh, Harris, do but get me news of him, and I will bless you forever."
"I will do what I can, but it will be no easy matter," said Harris. "Have you money, madam, wherewith to discharge your score?"
"It is paid," I answered. "My husband settled it this morning."
"That is well. Then the sooner we are gone the better."
It was not long before I found myself in a small but clean little waterside inn, frequented, as it seemed by the better class of sailors. My room, though plain, was decent and retired, and I never left it.
It was three or four days before Harris got news of my husband, and bad news it was, when it came. Walter had been committed to Newgate, among the common rabble of rebels, and upon some trumped-up charge of rebellion. I asked if there were any chance of my seeing him.