That night my master called me as I was going to my bed, and said, “Humphrey, there is like to be sad trouble here on your account. A warrant, I am told, is out to seize you, you know best for what; but, if it be true, you struck a gentleman of the Queen’s household—”
“I struck a dog who affronted a defenceless maiden,” said I, “and I put him in the pond, to boot, and I care not if I go to the cage for it.”
“But I care. If I harbour you here I am like to receive the punishment which belongs to you. And if I give you up I lose a good ’prentice. I can say thus much for you.”
“Then,” said I, not heeding his flattery, “I had better go away myself.”
I never guessed he would take to this; but, to my surprise, he did.
“I and your mistress think so, too, Humphrey. Whilst the hue and cry lasts you are better anywhere than here. When it has ceased, you may safely return. Meanwhile, as fortune will have it, I can employ you still in my service.”
Then he told me how he desired to send a letter to a friend of his at Oxford, which, being of the gravest importance, he wished delivered by a trusty messenger—as he took me to be. Therefore, if I was ready to forward him in the matter, I might avoid my pursuers, and do him a service to boot.
I hailed the offer with joy and thankfulness. I longed for a change somewhere, I cared not where, and, if skulk I must, an errand like this would please me vastly more than hiding for a week in my master’s cellar.
“Be secret,” said he (meaning, I suppose, Stoupe). “To-morrow early be ready to start to Kingston, where you may get a horse. Meanwhile your mistress is herself making you a cloak which shall be proof against all weathers. So good-night, Humphrey, and see you rouse yourself betimes in the morning.”