“You might manage it, Margaret, when the governor goes to Bury with the prisoners.”
“How, William! How?”
“You have the horse, and you have the linen line. Look around the wall, and see if you cannot find a place of escape. You must be tired of your captivity. I owe my liberty to you; and if I can once get you out of this place, no power on earth shall separate us again.”
“But where should I go, William, if I got out?”
“To my sister’s at Sudbourn, Lucy Keeley. I will tell her to expect you.”
“That would do. I will look round and see if it can be done. On the 19th or 20th of this month, Mr. Ripshaw goes to Bury with the prisoners. On Monday the 24th, and Tuesday the 25th, are our two great washing days. It must be one of those nights. Will you be waiting for me at the end of the lane, near St. Helen’s Church?”
“I will be waiting for you, never fear. I will have a sailor’s jacket and hat to disguise you in.”
“Well, the trial is worth the risk. I will confide in you once more, Laud; but if you deceive me, then, indeed, I care not what becomes of me. But I will trust you. Go!—There is some one coming.”
Laud departed, and Margaret busied herself with the linen. That day she had many things given her to mend. She contrived also to get a candle, under the pretence of working late. And such was the confidence which was placed in her, and such the quantity of work she performed, that she was trusted beyond any other prisoner in the house.