"Yes," he said, looking at me with some surprise, "that was the name--Sir Julian Harnwood. "Tis the horse I told you of last night."
And in a flash the truth came upon me.
"It waits for me," I said. "Quick, man, saddle it! Sir Julian"s life hangs upon your speed."
But he planted himself st.u.r.dily before me.
"Not so fast, young master," he said. "That trick will not serve your turn. "Tis Sir Julian"s horse, sure enough, and it waits its rider, sure enough; but that you are he, I must have some better warrant than your word."
"My name may prove it," I replied. "It is Buckler--Morrice Buckler.
Sir Julian"s servant came to me in Holland."
"Buckler!" the man repeated, as though he heard it for the first time.
"Morrice Buckler! Yes, sir, that may be your name. I have nothing against it beyond that it is unfamiliar in these parts. But a strange name is a poor thing to persuade a man to forego his trust."
I looked at the man. Though elderly and somewhat bent, he was of a large frame, and the sinews stood out in knots upon his bared arms.
Plainly I was no match for him if it came to a struggle; and a sickening feeling of impotence and futility surged up within me. At every turn of the road destiny had built up its barrier. I understood that the clue to the matter lay hidden in that untold message which had been vainly conveyed to Leyden; that Swasfield had some pa.s.s-word, some token to impart whereby I might make myself known along the road.
"The horse waits for me," I cried, my voice rising as I beseeched him.
"In very truth it waits for me. Doubtless I should have some proof of that. But the man that bid me come fell in a swoon or ever he could hand it me."
The innkeeper smiled, and sat him down on a corn-bin. Indeed, the explanation sounded weak enough to me, who was witness of its truth. I should hardly have credited it from another"s lips.
"Oh, can"t you see," I entreated, in an extremity of despair, "can"t you feel that I am telling you G.o.d"s truth?"
"No, master," he answered slowly, shaking his head, "I feel nought of that sort."
His words and stolid b.u.mpkin air threw me into a frenzy of rage.
"Then," cried I, "may the devil"s curse light on you and yours! That horse was left with you in trust. You have dinned the word into my ears; there"s no gainsaying it. And I claim the fulfilment of your trust. Understand, fellow!" I went on, shaking my hand at him, for I saw his mouth open and his whole face broaden out into a laugh. "It"s not a horse you are stealing; it is a life--a man"s innocent life!"
Thereupon he broke in upon my pa.s.sion with a great gust of mirth that shook him from head to foot.
"Lord, master!" said he, "that be mighty fine play-acting. I don"t know that I ever saw better in Newberry Market"--and he slapped a great fist upon his thigh. "No, I"ll be danged if I did. Go on! go on!
Lord, I could sit here and laugh till dinner." And he thrust his feet forward, plunged his hands in his breeches pockets, and rolled back against the wall. I watched him in an utter vacancy of mind. For his stupid laughter had quenched me like a pailful of cold water. I searched for some device by which I might outwit his stubbornness. Not the smallest seed of a plan could I discover. I sent my thoughts back to the morning of the fourteenth, and cudgelled my memory in the hope that Swasfield might have dropped some hint which had pa.s.sed unnoticed. But he had said so little, and I remembered his every word.
Then in a twinkling I recollected the charms which I had found upon his person. Perchance one of them was the needed token. No idea was too extravagant for me to grasp at it. What had I done with them? I thought. I clapped my hand into the pocket of my coat, and my fingers closed, not on the charms, but on the barrel of the pistol which Larke had handed to me at the moment of my setting out. In an instant my mind was made up. I must have that horse, cost what it might. "Twas useless to argue with my landlord. Money I had made trial of the night before. And here were the minutes running by, and each one of them, it might be, a drop of Julian"s blood!
I walked quickly to the door, at once to disengage the pistol secretly and to hide any change in my countenance. But the c.o.c.k must needs catch in the flap of my pocket as I drew the weapon out. I heard a startled cry behind me, a rattle of the corn-bin, and a clatter of heavy shoes on the ground. I took one spring out of the stable, turned, and levelled the barrel through the doorway. For a moment we stood watching one another, he crouched for a leap, I covering his eyes with the pistol.
"Saddle that horse," I commanded, "and bring it out into the road!"
It was his turn now to argue and entreat, but I had no taste at the moment for "play-acting."
"Be quick, man!" I said. "You have wasted time enough. Be quick, else I"ll splatter your head against the wall!"
The fellow rose erect and did as I bid, while I stood in the doorway and railed at him. For, alas! I was never over-generous by nature.
"Hurry, you potatoe!" I exclaimed. Why that word above all other and more definite terms of abuse should have pained him I know not. But so it was; "Potatoe" grieved him immeasurably, and noting that, I repeated it more often, I fear me, than fitted my dignity. At length the horse was saddled.
"Lead it out!" I said, and walked backwards to the road with my pistol still levelled.
He followed me with the horse, and I bade him go back into the stable and close the door. Then I put up my pistol, sprang into the saddle, and started at a gallop past the inn. I had ridden little more than a hundred yards when I chanced to look back. My host was standing in the centre of the way, his legs firmly apart, and a huge blunderbuss at his shoulder. I flung my body forward on the neck of the horse, and a shower of slugs whistled through the air above my head. I felt for my pistol to return the compliment, but "twould have been mere waste of the shot; I should never have hit him. So I just curved my hand about my mouth and bawled "Potatoe" at the top of my voice. It could have done no less hurt than his slugs.
The horse, fresh from its long confinement, answered gladly to my call upon its speed, and settled into a steady gallop. But for all that, though I pressed on quickly through Marlborough and Chippenham, the nearer I came to Bristol the more lively did my anxieties become. I began to ponder with an increasing apprehension on the business which Julian might have in store for me. The urgency of his need had been proved yet more clearly that morning. The horse which I bestrode was a fresh and convincing evidence; and I could not but believe that similar relays were waiting behind me the whole length of the road from London.
At the same time, as Elmscott had urged, I could bring him no solace of help in the matter of his trial. It would need greater authority than mine to rescue him from Jeffries" clutches. I realised that there must be some secret trouble at the back, and the more earnestly I groped after a hint of its nature, the more dark and awesome the riddle grew.
For, to my lasting shame I own it, Elmscott"s forebodings recurred to me with the mystical force of a prophecy:
"There is G.o.d"s hand in all this. He doth not mean you should go."
The warning seemed traced in black letters on the air before me; fear whispered it at my heart, and the very hoofs of the horse beat it out in a ringing menace from the ground.
At last, when I was well-nigh in the grips of a panic, over the brow of a hill I saw a cl.u.s.ter of church-spires traced like needles against the sun, and in a sudden impulse to outstrip my cowardice I drove my heels into my horse"s flanks, and an hour later rode through Lawford"s Gate into Bristol town. I inquired of the first person I met where the Court was sitting. At the Guildhall, he told me, and pointed out the way. A clock struck four as he spoke, and I hurriedly thanked him and hastened on.
About the Guildhall a great rabble of people swung and pressed, and I reined up on the farther side of the street, but as nearly opposite to the entrance as I could force my way. In front of the building stood a carriage very magnificently equipped, with four horses, and footmen in powdered wigs and glistening liveries.
From such converse as went on about me, I sought to learn what prisoners had been tried that day. But so great was the confusion of voices, curses, lamentations, and rejoicings being mixed and blended in a common uproar, that I could gather no knowledge that was particular to my purpose. Then from the shadow of the vestibule shot a gleam of scarlet and white, and at once a deep hush fell upon the crowd. Preceded by his officers, my lord Jeffries stepped out to his carriage, a man of a royal mien, with wonderfully dark and piercing eyes, though the beauty of his face was much marred by spots and blotches, and an evil smile that played incessantly about his lips. He seemed in truth in high good-humour, and laughed boisterously with those that attended him; and bethinking me of his savage cruelty, and the unholy l.u.s.tfulness wherewith he was wont to indulge it, my heart sank in fear for Julian.
The departure of his carriage seemed to lift a weight from every tongue, and the clamour recommenced. I cast about for some one to approach, when I beheld a little man with a face as wrinkled and withered as a dry pippin, pressing through the throng in my direction.
I thought at first that he intended speech with me, for he looked me over with some care. But he came straight on to the horse"s head, and without pausing walked briskly along its side to my right hand and disappeared behind me. A minute after I heard the noise of a dispute on my left. There was my little friend again. He had turned on his steps, and moving in the contrary direction had come up with me once more. In the hurry of his movements he had knocked up against a pa.s.ser-by, and the pair straightway fell loudly to argument, each one accusing the other of clumsiness. I turned in my saddle to watch the quarrel, and immediately the little man, with profuse apologies, took the blame upon himself and continued his way. I followed him with my eyes. He had proceeded but ten yards when his pace began to slacken, then he dropped into a saunter, and finally stood still in a musing att.i.tude with his eyes on the ground, as though he was debating some newly-remembered question. Of a sudden he raised his head, shot one quick glance towards me, and resumed his walk. The street was thinning rapidly, and I was able to pursue him without difficulty. For half a mile we went on, keeping the same distance between us, when he sharply turned a corner and dived into a narrow side-street. I checked my horse, thinking that I had mistaken his look; for he had never so much as turned round since. But the next minute he reappeared, and stood loitering in his former att.i.tude of reflection. There could be no doubt of the man"s intention, and I gathered up the reins again and followed him. This side-street was narrow and exceeding dark, for the storeys of the houses on each side projected one above the other until the gables nearly met at the top. The little man was waiting for me about twenty yards from the entrance, in an angle of the wall.
"It is Mr. Buckler?" he asked shortly.
"Yes," I answered. "What news of Julian?"
"You have but just arrived?"
"The clock struck four as I rode through Law-ford"s Gate. What news of Julian?"
He gave a sharp, sneering laugh.
"Ay, ay," he said. "No one so fl.u.s.tered as your loiterer." And he stepped out from the shadow of the house. "Sir Julian?" he cried hastily. "Sir Julian will be hanged at noon to-morrow."
I swayed in the saddle; the houses spun round me. I felt the man"s arm catch at and steady me.
"It is my fault?" I whispered.
"No, lad!" he returned, with a new touch of kindliness in his tone.
"Nothing could have saved him. I should know; I am his attorney. Maybe I spoke too harshly, but this last week he has been eating his heart out for the sight of you, and your tardiness plagued me. There, there!
Lay hold of your pluck! It is a man your friend needs, not a weak girl."
There was a pitying contempt in the tone of these last words which stung me inexpressibly. I sat up erect, and said, with such firmness as I could force into my voice:
"Where does Sir Julian lie?"
"In the Bridewell to-night. But you must not go there in this plight,"
he added quickly, for I was already turning the horse. "You would ruin all."