The which, with much sweat and labour, I accomplished, and about eight of the clock next morning delivered them at Mistress Crane’s house, who asked no question, but gave me a sixpence for my pains, and bade me return at once the way I came.
Now, you must know, so soon as I was back in my boat, I pitched that sixpence into the Thames. For although, to please Jeannette’s step-father, and because I wished well to my Church, I had lent myself to this business, I liked it not, and remembered it each day in my prayers as a thing to be forgiven. So that I could not take Mistress Crane’s sixpence, and hoped the throwing of it away would stand somewhat to my favour when all was reckoned up.
I had not been an hour at work that morning, when in comes John Wolfe with hungry maw, and demands to search the house. Which my master craftily tried to put him off; thereby making John the more sure that he was on a right scent. At last Master Walgrave yielded and bade him take his will. So after overlooking the usual room, and finding naught there disorderly, he walks me with a smack of his lips to where the reams stood piled on the secret door. And with great labour and puffing he and his men set-to to move them, with no help from us. And the door being thus uncovered, he calls for a light and goes below.
Now, my master, whether of purpose or by chance, so soon as the cellar had been cleared the night before, had let run some water over the floor, which, by standing there, had made a pretty slough in the place. And Master Wolfe, not knowing as well as we did that the bottom step of the ladder was a-wanting, and being encumbered with his candle, fell flat on his face into the mire, and lay there spitting and kicking a round five minutes before we above had the good fortune to hear him.
I went below to help him up—and it was sad to see so great a man in so brave a livery so befouled! Instead of thanking me for my pains he vowed this was a trick put on him, and that some he knew of should smart for it. But for all that he found neither press, nor forme, nor printed sheet contrary to regulation, no, not by searching the whole house over, even to my sweet Jeannette’s deserted chamber.
When he inquired where Mistress Walgrave and the children were gone, my master bade him go packing, and concern himself with his own business and not hinder honest men in theirs. So John Wolfe and we parted not too good friends; he threatening to be even with us yet; and we bidding him go wash his face and get a change of raiment.
“Twas in good time we were warned,” said my master, after he was gone. “Yet still am I in a great strait. For what can a press and paper do, if we have no type? I durst not use this I have here, for it will be known. And from no one else can I borrow it, for those that be not jealous of me are too timid of his Grace to lend letter for such a cause. Humphrey, type I must have, if not from at home from abroad.”
“What!” said I. “From whom abroad will you get any?”
“My wife hath kinsmen in the town of Rochelle, who be printers. I have had type of them already, but not enough.”
“But how will you get it now?” I asked. “Who will fetch it?”