"She will not have to bear them!" answered Mr. Batie, more curtly than was his wont. "I dare not risk the hiring of either. We must set out as soon as it is fairly dark, and make our way on foot to Wesel."
Mrs. Curtis looked at him as if she thought him mad. "On foot and to-night!" she repeated. "My lady will perish in the snow."
"Better the snow and the sky than the rack and flame!" answered Mr. Batie. "Loveday have you your wits about you?"
"Yes, sir!" I answered.
"Then listen, both of you. We must have our supper as usual, and keep up our fire and lights. Then at eight o'clock when all is still, we must steal out as quietly as possible by the back garden-gate and make the best of our way to Wesel. The gatekeeper is my friend and will allow us to go forth. I do not think our enemies will make any move before morning, and by that time we shall be out of their reach. Hasten and have all needful things ready, but make no bustle. Where is Annette?"
"Gone to her sister's wedding, by good luck."
"So much the better, though you should not call it luck," said Mr. Batie. I had much to do not to laugh. "I will myself prepare your mistress. Ah, here she comes. My sweet life, I have heavy news for you."
My mistress took the news very coolly. Indeed, she was not half as much excited as Mistress Curtis, and laughed at her fears that the walk would hurt her.
"But shall we be safe in Wesel?"
"Yes, I think so. 'Tis one of the Hanse League towns, wholly independent of his spiritual lordship, and the sturdy burghers like him not well enough to do him a pleasure by giving a fugitive to his clutches. I would we had gone there at first."