bed by the
news of the Queen's projected marriage with Philip of Spain, which they
felt boded ill for their liberties, spiritual and temporal. The Carews
were in the counsel of Sir Thomas Wyatt, the Duke of Suffolk, and
others, who planned risings to depose the Queen. In a simultaneous
movement, the Carews were to raise the West under the nominal leadership
of Lord Courtenay, Sir Thomas Wyatt was to raise Kent, and the Duke the
Midland counties. But before the preparations were complete, suspicion
fell on the Carews, and a letter was despatched from the Council,
directing the Sheriff of Devon to send Sir Peter and Sir Gawen to
London.

Sir Gawen, who was in Exeter about this time, thought it best to return
quietly to his own home, and because his movements now attracted an
undesirable amount of attention, he one night 'went out over the walles
of the said cytie yn his bowtes.' The account condescends to a touching
detail that should appeal to all. Even the agitation of flying from
arrest on a charge of treason could not keep Sir Gawen from feeling
footsore, and 'for that his bowtes grieved hym he cutt them upon the
waye.' Sir Gawen was arrested a few days later, and suffered a long
imprisonment.

Meanwhile Sir Peter, in answer to the summons to surrender himself, sent
the reply that he had already started for London. But meeting on the way
the bearer of a message which assured him that two of his 'dearest
friends' here failed him, he turned aside and escaped in a little boat
from Weymouth.

Those who interest themselves in dreams and visions may care to hear of
Lady Carew's experience at this moment. The night that Sir Peter sailed,
Lady Carew dreamed very vividly 'that as he was going aboard his bark,
he should fall into the seas and be drowned'; and so great was her
trouble on awaking, that she sent a messenger to the seaside to make
inquiries for Sir Peter. And when the messenger arrived at Weymouth, he
heard the startling news that getting 'out of the boat to enter into
the bark, his [Sir Peter's] foot slided or slipped, and he therewith
fell into the seas, and had been drowned if one standing by had not
taken hold of him.'

Notwithstanding several misfortunes on the way, Sir Peter arrived safely
in France, where he lived an exciting and adventurous life for several
years, and was then treacherously seized and carried to England and the
Tower. Here the much-abused Philip proved himself a real friend, for in
an