his face. His heart was full of
tender thoughts of Cherry and her sweet affection for him. How soon
would it be possible, he wondered, to claim her as his own; and
what would Martin Holt say to the frustration of one of his
favourite schemes?

Of his present mission, and of any peril likely to accrue to him
therefrom, Cuthbert thought little or nothing. He did not see how
he could possibly come under suspicion simply from fulfilling the
priest's request. It would have been brutal to refuse; and what
harm could he do to himself or others by simply delivering a packet
of papers?

He had almost promised Master Robert Catesby before this to visit
him in his river-side house. Doubtless this was the very place for
which he was now bound. Anything like an adventure was agreeable to
one of Cuthbert's imaginative nature, and a spice of possible
danger did not detract from the sense of fascination, even though
he might not see wherein the danger lay.

The wherry he was wont to use lay moored near to the Three Cranes,
and no one heeded or questioned him as he stepped in and pushed off
into the river. A couple of soldiers were lounging upon the little
wharf and watching the small craft as they came and went. They
appeared to take some note of Cuthbert, as of others who passed by,
but they did not speak to him, and he wondered what their business
was there.

A fragment of talk between two watermen reached him as he began
rowing out in the direction of the Cherry Blossom; for he did not
wish to take the upstream direction till twilight should have
fallen and his movements would escape unheeded, and the voices of
these men as they passed him reached him clearly over the water.

"On the lookout for the runaway priest, I take it. Thou surely
didst hear how he gave them the slip in the fog, just when they
thought they had him safe. He had been well bruised and battered.
It was a marvel how he got free. But he knew the narrow lanes well,
and doubled like a hare. Doubtless he had his friends in waiting,
for he slipped into some craft and eluded pursuit. But for the fog
they would have made sure of him that time. They say he--"

But the rest of the sentence was lost in the distance, and Cuthbert
laughed silently as he plied his oars.

"Beshrew me, but they make a mighty coil anent this good Father
Urban. One would have thought they could have made shift to lay
hands on him before were he so notable a miscreant. He was not in
hidi