At the first opportunity he whispered Bardolph, “Slip on before us, borrow a horse, steal an ass, or run like mad. The lads may have spared the old den for my sake. If you find it standing, set a light to every room. I’ll detain these gulls so as to give you time. Burn every stick and rag except Wykeham’s tower. Fire won’t touch that.” Exit Bardolph in advance at a brisk trot.
His master explained.
“I have sent him on to herald us, and to meet us with horses; if, as I still hope, honesty and good faith be not extinct upon earth.”
Our hero was taken ill frequently on the road; the result of his agitation and irrepressible misgivings. It was found necessary to solace him with repose by the wayside, and refreshments from the private stores of his companions.
“Oh, my friends!” said Jack, in a voice wherein gratitude struggled bravely against exhaustion; “How shall I ever repay you for this kindness? And if it should be too late—too late!”
“Come! come! Don’t give way. We cannot have far to go now. We shall soon know the worst.”
“True! let me strive to be a man, and remember that I am answerable for the safety of others.”
They reached Maldyke, six miles from Falstaff.
Here the sight of a goodly castellated mansion, gutted and smoking in the centre of a forest of charcoal, reduced our hero to a state of prostration. He threw himself on his face, imploring, as a last act of friendship, that his companions should despatch him with their knives.
The gateway of this mansion was situated on the public road. From the raised portcullis of this gateway swung a human body, dead, and half-naked.