"I don't want to come out again," said Herrick. "It's the getting in that's the difficulty. I'm for the new Duke, and there are some who plot against him. I might be stopped at the gate. I propose to lie buried in this straw, and once in the city, I will drop out of the wagon. Will you do me the service?"
The man looked at Herrick doubtfully and then at the money.
"But if there's trouble at the gate and they find you?" he said.
"Then I have climbed up into the wagon as you came along, and you didn't know it. I warrant you've often given an unconscious lift to a free passenger that way."
"Ay; that's true. I'll do it," the driver answered, putting the money in his pocket. "Get you down in the straw."
They lumbered presently over the bridge, and were passing through the gate when the wagon stopped.
"Where from?" a voice asked.
"Farmer Jacques."
"That's a road that goes toward Passey, isn't it?"
"Ay."