In the afternoon of that same day they reached Downham Market, and here Jasper was to deposit his empty sacks and return next day with them replenished, to Mousehold Mill. But in the meantime he must find a sure retreat for the lost pair, for it was thought Bill would come seeking them; but if once beyond a certain point, they might consider themselves safe.
Jasper’s first duty was to go to the Inn, where they kept post-chaises, and hire a messenger mounted on horseback, to take a note. He had money for this—the good people at Mousehold Mill had provided it when he told them the case. This mounted messenger was to ride straight to the town of Woodstock, taking with him a small packet, neatly sewn in canvas to be safe. This parcel contained Mousie’s head kerchief, and one of Robin’s little shoes—two things that had been stored away by Freedom all this time. On a slip of paper were written the words:—
“That which was lost is found.
Apply to Master Larkynge,
The Wheatsheaf, Ely.”
When the messenger had mounted his grey, and was well upon the road, Jasper had a difficult matter to settle. He had to decide the means to get them farther on their way towards Ely, for he himself had to return in the early morning to Mousehold Heath. And to do this he decided to hire a cart and drive them far on into the night, till he reached a turnpike cottage. Here an old hunchback lived to whom he had shown kindness. This turnpike cottage was on the public road, and the carriers’ carts passed it. He intended hiding the children with the hunchback, and commissioning him to put them into the carrier’s van on the morrow, with the message that they were to be left at Master Larkynge, till called for, at the “Wheatsheaf Inn.”
It was a lovely September night when Jasper drove the children from Downham Market in the hired gig. The moon rose large and full above them, but Mousie didn’t see it, for she was sound asleep at Jasper’s feet on a warm sheepskin.
Robin sat beside Jasper and counted the glow-worms till his eyelids began to droop.
And as they drove along the silver’d highway, the gorse bushes black against the grey Down, and the woods lying like great dark mantles thrown across the wold, Jasper sang. Surely a stanza of Freedom’s song, Robin thought. And the words of his song were these:—
“Full many a day, have I found my way,