to-morrow to tell you that he does not know where I am. Is His
Majesty still at Newmarket? If so, when does he purpose to return? Which
road will he come by? Send an answer back by my man who bears this.

"R.M."

Well; that was all that I could do. I gave the letter to James; telling
him not to awaken me with the answer till he came at eleven o'clock; and
after eating a good meal, I went to my bed and fell sound asleep; and it
seemed scarcely five minutes, before James came knocking, with Mr.
Chiffinch's answer. I sat up on my bed and read it--my mind still
swimming with sleep.

"_Prospere procede_!" it ran. "I will observe all that you say. The King
and His Royal Highness are together at Newmarket. They purpose to return
on a Saturday, as the King usually does; but he hath not yet sent to say
whether it will be to-morrow, the 18th or the 25th. I shall hear by
night, no doubt. Neither do I know the road by which they may come."

I read it through twice; then I tore it into fragments and gave them to
James.

"Burn all these," I said. "Are the horses ready?"

"Yes, sir," said James.

Undoubtedly my sleep had refreshed me; for by the time that I rode up to
the _Mitre_ without Aldgate, I was awake with a kind of clear-headedness
that astonished me. It appeared to me that I had thought out every
contingency. I had with me a little valise, ready for the country, if
need be; yet I could return to my lodgings without remark. James was
already on his way to Hoddesdon, and would be there if I needed him. No
harm was done if my conjectures were at fault; I had left no loophole
that I could see, if they were not. It was with a tolerably contented
heart, in spite of the dangers I foresaw--(for I think these gave spice
to my adventure)--that I rode up to the _Mitre_, and saw Mr. Rumbald
himself standing astraddle in the doorway.

I must confess however that the sight of him gave me a little check. He
appeared to me more truculent than I had ever seen him. He had his hands
behind him, with a great whip in them; he hardly smiled to me, but
nodded only, fixing his fierce eyes on my face. He had, more than I had
ever noticed it before, that hard fanatic look of the Puritan. After
all, I reflected, this maltster had commanded a troop under Cromwell at
Naseby. His manner was very different from when I had last seen him; he
appeared to me as if desperate.

However, I think I shewed nothing of what I felt. I saluted him easily,
an