as certainly occurred to my mind as one possibility in ten, I had
completely mistaken Rumbald, and he had spoken the truth for once--it
was not the King only who would perish, but the Catholic heir also, and
then good-bye to all our hopes. Yet, I declare that even this did not
affect me so much as the thought that it was the man whom I had learned
to love that was in peril--to love, in spite of his selfishness and his
indolence and his sins. It was all but an intolerable thought to me that
that melancholy fiery man who had so scolded me--whom, to tell the
truth, I had scolded back--that this man might, even in imagination, be
mixed up with the horror of the firing of guns and the plunging of the
wounded horses--should himself be shot at and murdered, there in the
lonely Hertfordshire lane.

At about three o'clock I could bear it no more. God knows how many
prayers I had said; for I think I prayed all the time, as even careless
men will do at such crises. There was the grim house behind me, the
leafless trees overhead, the lane stretching up northwards beyond the
gate. All was very silent, except for the barking of a dog now and
again. It was a very solitary place--the very place for a murder; there
were no meadows near us, where men might be working, but only the deep
woods. It was a clearish kind of day, with clouds in the west.

At about three o'clock then I went to the stables to see my horse. These
were behind the house. There was no one about, and no other horse in the
stables but Rumbald's own black mare that had carried him yesterday.

It came to me as I looked at my horse that no harm would be done if I
put the saddle on him. Rumbald would but think me a little foolish for
so confessing in action that I knew the King would not come; and for
myself it would be some relief to my feelings to know that if by any
mischance I did hear the sound of shots, I could at least ride up and do
my best, though I knew it would be too late.

I saddled my horse then, and put on the bridle, as quickly as I could.
Then, again, I thought there would be no harm done if I led him out to
the gate and fastened him there. I looked out of the stable door, but
there was no one in sight. So I led my horse out, as quietly as I could,
yet openly, and brought him round past the front of the house and so
towards the gate. I thought nothing of my valise; for at that time I
intended no more than what I had said. I was uneasy, and had no
deter