These and a hundred other reports equally alarming were greedily swallowed by the panic-stricken citizens. It was not without real regret at parting with the marquis that we arrived at length at the gate of the Tower facing Tower Hill; for throughout the journey he had proved a most entertaining companion. And though his air of assumed gaiety did not deceive me as to the secret anxiety he felt beneath it, yet he was a man who had travelled much and could readily adapt himself to the manners of the people with whom he was in company. I doubt not that at Versailles he would have been as stately a courtier as with us he was bon camarade.
The daylight was fast dying when, in answer to my summons, the gate was at length opened by a surly warder. And the usual formalities having been complied with, I handed over the body of M. de Launay into the custody of the lieutenant of the Tower.
“Adieu,” I said at parting, taking the marquis’s proffered hand. “And I trust, monsieur, that you will speedily regain your liberty.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Who knows what evil fate lies before us!” he answered lightly. “To-day, M. Cassilis, you are a free man, a good horse beneath you, a sword at your side. To-morrow, you may be—married!” And he disappeared into the gloom of the gate-house.
I gave the word, and we turned our horses’ heads and rode slowly back to the Bull Tavern in Cheapside, where we put up for the night. On the morrow I dismissed the cornet and his men with instructions to make all speed in returning to Cleeve; and then with my lord’s letter in my breast I set out through the city to deliver it to the Earl of Nottingham.
In every square and open space the citizens were drilling, whilst many of the shops and houses were barricaded as if to withstand a siege, in expectation of the arrival of the French. The earl dismissed my lord’s petition very curtly, with a promise of some Dutch troops who were arriving shortly from The Hague. And with this promise I was forced to be content.
Three days afterwards I was back in the capital of the West; and I stayed but to give his Grace of Nottingham’s message to my Lord Danvers, and the next day set out southwards.
It was evening when I found myself riding down the valley road within a mile of Cleeve; and I will confess that at every step that brought me nearer the house my heart beat more rapidly. How would my lady greet me! What would she say to me, or I to her? It was in thinking such thoughts as these and in picturing my welcome that I arrived at length at the entrance gates and saw that which brought me to a sudden halt.
In the earlier part of the day there had been a heavy storm, and the torrents of rain that had then fallen had softened the gravel surface of the avenue. Upon this surface were the marks of many horses’ hoofs, and they all led in the direction of the house.