Master Overton quickly understood what was necessary to be done, and, dressing himself in the friar’s robes I had brought under mine, soon appeared quite as respectable-looking a friar as I did.
“We must frame an excuse for leaving the prison so soon,” I observed. “I must assert that the prisoner is too obdurate to be moved at present; and that, unless he is subjected to a little more discipline, I fear that we cannot hope to be successful.”
I now spoke loud enough, should the warder be passing, to let him suppose that I was arguing with the prisoner. After some time my voice rose higher and higher. At length I whispered to him, “It is time that we should set forth.” He was more agitated than I should have expected.
“I cannot go in my own strength,” he said. “Let us kneel down and pray.”
We did so, and rose greatly refreshed.
“Now,” he said, “I am prepared.”
I had a staff such as friars were accustomed to use, and requested him to take it. Pressing against the door, I gladly found it opened. I had marked the way we came, and was thus able to go forth without hesitation, till we reached the door where the jailer was stationed.
“Father Peter and I have had hard work,” I said, as I saw him, “and I am afraid we have made but little way. However, we must not despair, and hope to come again to-morrow.”
The jailer looked from me to the pretended Father Peter. It was a critical moment.
“We must not delay,” I observed, “for we have several more heretics to visit. Come along, Father Peter, come along!”