ights dreaming dreams of peril and escape. I
know how we will outwit our pursuers this very night. Say, can yon
swim, as you can do all else that a brave Englishman should?"

"Like a fish," answered Paul, who had many a time terrified and
astonished his mother by his feats in the salmon pool at home, and
had never lost the skill and strength to battle with wind or wave.

"Good! I was sure of it; and I can do the same. Paul, come here to
the window. See you no means of escape as you look down into that
dark, sullen water below?"

Paul started and looked eagerly out. The inn, as has before been
said, stood on the banks of the great river Thames. Indeed, it was
built so close to the waterside that the walls were washed by the
lapping waves on the backside of the house, and the windows looked
sheer down into the turbid, sullen stream. No watch could be kept
on this side, nor did it seem to be needful; for the old inn was a
lofty building of its kind, and the black water lay some sixty feet
below the small window of the room in which Paul and his companion
lodged. No man in his senses, it seemed, would hazard such a leap,
and none but an expert swimmer would care or dare to trust himself
to that swiftly-flowing flood, which might so easily sweep him to
his doom. And on a freezing December night the idea of escape in
such a fashion seemed altogether madness itself.

Even Paul, menaced by a danger that might be worse than death, drew
in his head with something of a shudder; but Edward had dived into
a little press that stood in the room, and brought out a coil of
stout, strong rope. Paul gave a cry of surprise and pleasure.

"Some instinct warned me it might be wanted. See here, Paul. We can
tie one end to this heavy bedstead, knotting it also around the
bolt of the door, and we can glide down like two veritable shadows,
and drop silently into the river: Then we must swim to one of those
small wherries which lie at anchor beside the sleeping barges. I
know exactly what course to steer for that; and once aboard, we cut
her loose, and row for dear life down with the tide, till we can
find some deserted spot where we can land, and thence we make our
way back to the coast through the friendly forest, as we planned."

"On foot?"

"Ay, we must leave our good steeds behind; it would be madness to
seek to take them. We are young and strong, and this frost makes
walking easy. We shall speed so well that we may chance to reach