At sundown I went in to practise again, and took a big mould-candle with me, showing it to Bumford, that he might not be uneasy on the score of his stock in the vestry. As soon as dusk came on, and before the tell-tale moon was much up, I left the organ, opened the church-door, and stood at it, according to the plan concerted with Tod. He came swiftly up with his basket of provisions which he had got together by degrees during the day; and then we locked the door again. After Fred had regaled himself, we consulted together. Fred was to steal out of the church about one o’clock on Sunday morning, and make off across the country. But to do this with safety it was necessary he should be disguised. By that time the ardour of the night-searching might have somewhat passed; and the hour, one o’clock in the morning, was as silent and lonely a one as could be expected. It was most essential that he should not be recognized by any person who might chance to meet him.
“But you must manage one thing for me,” said Fred, after this was settled. “I will not go away without seeing Edna. She can come in here with you to-morrow night.”
We both objected. “It will be very hazardous, Fred. Old Bumford would be sure to see her: his eyes are everywhere.”
“Tell him you want her to sing over the chants with you, Johnny. Tell him anything. But go away for an indefinite period, without first seeing her and convincing her that it is not guilt that sends me, I will not.”
So there was no more to be said.
Getting provisions together seemed to have been easy compared with what we should have to get up now—a disguise. A smock-frock, say, and the other items of a day-labourer’s apparel. But it was more easy to decide than to procure them.
“Mack leaves belongings of his in the barn occasionally,” said Tod to me, as we walked home together. “We’ll look to-morrow night.”
It was our best hope. Failing that, there would be no possibility of getting a smock-frock anywhere; and Fred would have to escape in his coat turned inside out, or something of that sort. His own trousers, braced up high, and plastered with mud at the feet, would do very well, and his own wideawake hat, pulled low down on his face. There would be no more trouble about provisions, for what Tod had taken in would be enough.
Saturday. And Tod and I with our work before us. Gisby was sinking fast.