This was more than the choleric old knight could stand. "Don't stand there babbling like a drunken mummer at Martinmas fair!" he shouted, with a round oath. "Deliver thy message, dolt!"
"Oh, Sir George! The murderer Joyce hath escaped!"
With another furious outburst the knight rushed out of the room, mounted his horse, and, followed by his two servants and the messenger of ill-tidings, rode furiously down the road to Midhurst, the noise of the horses' hoofs clattering on the frosty road testifying to the speed at which they were urged.
News travels apace, and in less than an hour it was all over our village that Joyce had by some means obtained a file, cut through his fetters, and, after a murderous attack on his jailer, had broken out of Midhurst Jail, and was last seen making his way towards the bleak Sussex Downs.
My father had already been laid to rest in the quiet little churchyard of Trotton, and on making an examination of the little house where we dwelt, his will was discovered. The reading of this will, though of little interest to me (on account, I now suppose, of my youth), was the occasion of an assembly of many of the friends of my father, the number surprising me; for, though highly respected, he was not one who was fond of associating with our neighbours.
There were present, besides Sir George Lee, who appeared to take a great interest in me, Lawyer Whitehead, Howard Hobbs and Jack Alexander of Iping, both of whom had seen service under Prince Rupert; Arthur Conolly, an Irish veteran who had served in the Low Countries, and who had come over from Chichester for the occasion; Arthur Lewis, a gentleman of Bramshott; Percy Young, an officer of the navy, who in his earlier days had lost a leg in the action of La Rochelle; Herbert Collings, a master mariner of Gosport, who used to be a frequent visitor at our house, and who greatly interested me with the account of his adventures off the coast of Barbary; and Giles Perrin, the landlord of the "Flying Bull", who modestly seated himself on a stool in a remote corner of the room. There were also several others whose names I forget.
Lawyer Whitehead, whose name did not belie his appearance, adjusted his horn spectacles, and, unfolding a parchment, read the will, which is as follows:--
"In the Name of God, Amen, I, Owen Wentworth, late of Holwick in the countie of Yorks" [here followed some word that had been erased and "yeoman" written above] "being whole of bodie and perfect of mynde, do ordaine and make this my last will and testament in manner and forme followinge: First, I commend my soule into the handes of Almightie God my Creator, and my bodie to be buried in the churchyarde at Trotton. Item, I give to the poor of the parish of Rake ten pounds to be divided amongst them by the discretion of my Executors. Item, I give to Sir George Lee, knight, in token of friendship, my horse, alsoe a box and contents now deposited with Master Whitehead, Lawyer of Midhurst. Item, to my sister Margaret, now wedded to George Anderson, Clerk of Ye Survey at the Dockyarde neare Portesmouth, One hundred Pounds. Item, to the said George Anderson the sum of Twenty and five Pounds yearly, provided that the said George Anderson doth fulfil to the letter the instructions set forth by me and intrusted to the keeping of the aforesaid Master Whitehead, Lawyer of Midhurst.
"Item, to all persons hereinafter named" [here followed a long list of names, embracing all present and many besides], "provided that they pay me the last respects due to me, I give XX*s*. Item, to John Alexander and Arthur Lewis, my welbeloved friends and Executors, I give Five Pounds apiece.
"Item, to my deerly beloved sonne Aubrey I give the residue of my estate, to be held in trust by the aforesaid George Anderson till my sonne attain the age of XXI yeares, if he doe so long live.