reason, and even King came to conclude that he had
suspected him unjustly, whilst the rowers, under Stukeley's suasion,
now threw themselves heartily into their task, and onward sped the boat
through the deepening night, taking but little account of that other
wherry that hung ever in their wake. In this wise they came at length to
Greenwich on the last of the ebb. But here finding the water beginning
to grow against them, and wearied by the exertion into which Stukeley's
enthusiasm had flogged them, the watermen paused again, declaring that
they could not reach Gravesend before morning.

Followed a brief discussion, at the end of which Sir Walter bade them
put him ashore at Purfleet.

"And that's the soundest counsel," quoth the boatswain. "For at Purfleet
we can get horses on to Tilbury."

Stukeley was of the same opinion; but not so the more practical Captain
King.

"'Tis useless," he declared to them. "At this hour how shall you get
horses to go by land?"

And now, Sir Walter, looking over his shoulder, saw the other wherry
bearing down upon them through the faintly opalescent mists of dawn. A
hail came to them across the water.

"Oh, 'Sdeath! We are betrayed!" cried Ralegh bitterly, and Stukeley
swore more fiercely still. Sir Walter turned to him. "Put ashore," he
said shortly, "and let us home."

"Ay, perhaps 'twere best. For to-night there's an end to the enterprise,
and if I am taken in your company now, what shall be said to me for this
active assistance in your escape?" His voice was gloomy, his face drawn
and white.

"Could you not plead that you had but pretended to go with me to seize
on my private papers?" suggested the ingenious mind of Ralegh.

"I could. But shall I be believed? Shall I?" His loom was deepening to
despair.

Ralegh was stricken almost with remorse on his cousin's account. His
generous heart was now more concerned with the harm to his friends than
with his own doom. He desired to make amends to Stukeley, but had no
means save such as lay in the power of that currency he used. Having
naught else to give, he must give that. He plunged his hand into an
inner pocket, and brought forth a handful of jewels, which he thrust
upon his kinsman.

"Courage," he urged him. "Up now, and we may yet win out and home, so
that all will be well with you at least, and you shall not suffer for
your friendship to me."

Stukeley embraced him then, protesting his love and desire to serve him.

T