cock-crow. That is
our religion at present.'

'Early Christians,' I suggested, and we both laughed as we settled down
to sleep.

Chapter XXIII. Of the Snare on the Weston Road

Just after sunrise I was awoke by one of the Mayor's servants, who
brought word that the Honourable Master Wade was awaiting me downstairs.
Having dressed and descended, I found him seated by the table in the
sitting-room with papers and wafer-box, sealing up the missive which I
was to carry. He was a small, worn, grey-faced man, very erect in his
bearing and sudden in his speech, with more of the soldier than of the
lawyer in his appearance.

'So,' said he, pressing his seal above the fastening of the string, 'I
see that your horse is ready for you outside. You had best make your way
round by Nether Stowey and the Bristol Channel, for we have heard that
the enemy's horse guard the roads on the far side of Wells. Here is your
packet.'

I bowed and placed it in the inside of my tunic.

'It is a written order as suggested in the council. The Duke's reply may
be written, or it may be by word of mouth. In either case guard it well.
This packet contains also a copy of the depositions of the clergyman at
The Hague, and of the other witnesses who saw Charles of England marry
Lucy Walters, the mother of his Majesty. Your mission is one of such
importance that the whole success of our enterprise may turn upon it.
See that you serve the paper upon Beaufort in person, and not through
any intermediary, or it might not stand in a court of law.'

I promised to do so if possible.

'I should advise you also,' he continued, 'to carry sword and pistol as
a protection against the chance dangers of the road, but to discard your
head-piece and steel-front as giving you too warlike an aspect for a
peaceful messenger.'

'I had already come to that resolve,' said I.

'There is nothing more to be said, Captain,' said the lawyer, giving me
his hand. 'May all good fortune go with you. Keep a still tongue and a
quick ear. Watch keenly how all things go. Mark whose face is gloomy and
whose content. The Duke may be at Bristol, but you had best make for his
seat at Badminton. Our sign of the day is Tewkesbury.'

Thanking my instructor for his advice I went out and mounted Covenant,
who pawed and champed at his bit in his delight at getting started
once more. Few of the townsmen were stirring, though here and there
a night-bonneted head stared out at me throu