But Martin Luther, when he was accused, denied this stoutly. He had been so far along the Ridgeway, he said, that though he had returned at once on hearing the shot fired, he had arrived too late for the fight. The fool's stomach for a fight was so well known that this seemed probable enough, and though some still suspected him, the origin of the unfortunate signal was never clearly determined, though in after days shrewd guesses were made by some.
For a few hours it seemed as if Sir Anthony had sunk into his former state of indecision. But when Petronilla came again to him soon after noon to beg him to go into hiding, she found his mood had altered. "Go to the Mere Farm?" he said, not angrily now, but firmly and quietly. "No, girl, I cannot. I have been in fault, and I must stay and pay for it. If I left these poor fellows to bear the brunt, I could never hold up my head again. But do you go now and tell Baldwin to come to me."
She went and told the stern, down-looking steward, and he came up.
"Baldwin," said the knight when the door was shut, and the two were alone, "you are to dismiss to their homes all the tenants--who have indeed been called out without my orders. Bid them go and keep the peace, and I hope they will not be molested. For you and Father Carey, you must go into hiding. The Mere Farm will be best."
"And what of you, Sir Anthony?" the steward asked, amazed at this act of folly.
"I shall remain here," the knight replied with dignity.
"You will be taken," said Baldwin, after a pause.
"Very well," said the knight.
The man shrugged his shoulders, and was silent.
"What do you mean?" asked Sir Anthony in anger.