But having once got rid of the little girls and gained the privacy of her own room, she hastily fastened the bolt; then drawing a dark cloak round her, she got out through the window, and by the aid of the apple-tree easily reached the ground. A few minutes more and she had overtaken the pedlar, who was walking slowly through the park.
'You carry more than a rosebud in your basket, good man,' she said cautiously.
'That do I, lady,' he answered; 'but mayhap we could talk more safely under these trees.'
Then when they were out of sight of any passer-by he went on: 'I am Jasper Pope at your service, Sir Denzil de Foulke's own man, and I have in my basket such a disguise as would puzzle his dearest friend, that of a pedlar's wife. Also there is a packet for you, lady; you will find it at the bottom. I could not see you sooner. I have been selling my wares in the village for a day or two, but durst not venture near the Court until I heard the old madame was absent.'
The basket seemed a light weight to Millicent, as she carried it back to the house, for now she saw the end of her difficulties. She had some trouble getting it up to the window, but after that all was easy. The children were in bed and the servants lingering over their supper, and the back-stairs so far away that no one noticed the stealthy footsteps as Sir Denzil crept down them in his strange attire.
Little did Sir David Basset or Dame Deborah dream that the lame pedlar-woman, in the lilac print dress and white mob-cap, whom they passed in the park, and who curtsied so low as the great coach lumbered past, was the Royalist leader whom everyone was searching for; neither did they dream that Millicent, who was waiting so demurely on the steps to receive them, wore under her smooth white kerchief a little crystal heart hung from a slender gold chain, which she had found in a packet, addressed to her, in the bottom of the pedlar's basket.
More than eleven long years came and went. Charles I. was beheaded, Cromwell ruled and died, and at last, one bright May day, Charles II. was brought back to his father's throne.
Many changes had taken place at Basset Court. Old Sir David was dead, and his son, Sir Antony, reigned in his stead. Antony and his young wife had gone up to London to see the merry-makings, but Millicent preferred to stay at home; and she is walking up and down the rose-garden this sunny evening, waiting for the return of the travellers.
All these years Ralph de Foulkes had been in France with the King, and all these years she had waited. Would Antony have seen him in London? Would he remember? Hark! there is the sound of wheels, and the great coach lumbers into the courtyard. She turns to welcome Antony and his wife, but she sees instead a tall, strong man, with a sunny smile on his face, and a few withered roses in his hand.