A loud splash told that he had fallen into the moat. The men held the torch over the side of the turret. But it was too dark to distinguish any object below. Presently, however, a noise was heard in the water that convinced them the fugitive was swimming for the opposite bank. One of the soldiers instantly discharged his caliver in the direction of the sound, but without effect.
This served as an alarm to the guards posted on the western ramparts, as well as to those on the Middle Tower, both of which commanded this part of the moat, and other shots were immediately fired. A signal was then rapidly passed from tower to tower, and from portal to portal, until it reached the Bulwark-gate, which formed the only entrance to the fortress on the west, and a body of armed men carrying lights instantly sallied forth and hurried towards the side of the moat.
Gilbert, meanwhile, swam for his life. Guided by the torches, which served to discover his enemies rather than to betray him, he effected a secure landing, But before he had climbed the steep bank, he was observed by a soldier, who, making towards him, shouted to his comrades for assistance. In the struggle that ensued, the torch borne by the soldier was extinguished, and bursting from him, Gilbert darted at a swift pace up Tower-hill. His pursuers were close upon him. But, well acquainted with the spot, he contrived to baffle them, by flinging himself beneath the permanent scaffold, then standing upon the brow of the eminence, and thus eluded observation. As soon as his foes had passed, he struck off swiftly to the left, and leaping a low wall, skirted All-hallows Church, and speedily gained Tower-street.
While Gilbert was flying in this direction, his pursuers finding themselves at fault, hastened back, and endeavoured to discover some trace of him. Some mounted the steps of the scaffold to see whether he had taken refuge on its blood-stained planks, some crept under it, others examined the posts of the neighbouring gallows, while a fourth party flew to the postern gate, which defended the southern extremity of the city wall, in the hope that he might have been stopped by the watch. All, however, it is needless to say, were disappointed. And after some time had been fruitlessly expended, the whole party returned to the Tower to report the unsuccessful issue of their expedition.
Meanwhile, the report of the musquetry had reached the ears of Lord Clinton, the constable, who, attended by the lieutenant, the gentleman-porter, and a numerous patrol, chanced to be making the round of the fortifications at the time, and he descended to the gates to ascertain the cause of the alarm. On learning it, he immediately summoned the herald and the gigantic warders to his presence, and after sharply rebuking the former for neglect, ordered him into custody till the morning, when he proposed to take the dukes pleasure as to his punishment. He then turned to the giants, who tried to soften his displeasure by taking the blame upon themselves, and telling them he would listen to their statement when the herald was examined, and, in the interim, they would be answerable with their lives for any further dereliction of duty, he dismissed the assemblage, and returned with his train to the ramparts.
Among those who had been gathered together in the guardroom near the By-ward Tower, where the foregoing examination took place, were Nightgall and Xit, the latter having just returned from the palace, after a vain attempt to deliver his message to Lord Guilford Dudley, who, it has been already stated, was engaged at the time in secret conference with the Duke of Northumberland, and could not therefore be spoken with.
Ever on the alert, and suspicious of those around him, Night-gall overheard Og question the dwarf as to the cause of his absence; and perceiving, from Xits manner, that he had some secret to communicate, he contrived to approach them unobserved. He then learnt the message with which the dwarf had been entrusted by Cicely, and enraged at her endeavour to overreach him, snatched the ring from him as he was displaying it to the giant, and threatened him with severe punishment, if he dared to meddle further in the matter.
As soon as he had recovered from his surprise, the affronted mannikin drew his rapier, and making several passes at Nightgall, would have certainly wounded him, if he had not dextrously avoided the blows by interposing the huge bulk of the giant between him and his assailant. The fury of the dwarf was so excessive, and the contortions into which he threw himself so inconceivably diverting, that Og could render him no assistance for laughing. Thrusting his sword between the giants legs, now cutting on the right, now on the left, Xit tried in every way to hit the jailer, and must have succeeded, if Og, who was by no means desirous to have blood shed in so ridiculous a fray, and who enjoyed the pastime too much to speedily terminate it, had not prevented him.
Gog, moreover, having on the onset disarmed Nightgall, he could not protect himself except by keeping under the shelter of the giant. Foiled in his attempts, Xits indignation knew no bounds, and exasperated by the derisive shouts and laughter of the spectators, he threatened to turn his sword against Og if he did not deliver up the jailer to his vengeance. This only produced louder roars of merriment from the by-standers; and the dwarf, whose passion had almost deprived him of reason, uttering a shrill scream like a child robbed of its plaything, threw himself on Ogs leg, and scrambled up his body, with the intention of descending on the other side, and exterminating his foe.
This feat raised the merriment of the spectators to the utmost. Og suffered the imp to ascend without opposition, and clinging to the points of the giants slashed red hose, Xit drew himself up to his broad girdle, and then setting one foot on the circlet of raised gold thread which surrounded the badge on his breast, soon gained his shoulder, and would have leapt from thence upon his foe, if Og, who began to think it time to put an end to the sport, had not seized him by the leg as he was in the act of springing off, and held him at arms-length, with his heels upwards.
After many useless struggles to liberate himself, and menaces of what he would do when he got free, which, as may be supposed, only provoked still further the laughter of the by-standers, Xit became so unmanageable, that Og fastened him by his nether garments to a hook in the wall, about fourteen feet from the ground, and left him to recover himself.
Thus perched, the dwarf hurled his rapier at Nightgalls head, and replied to the jeers of the assemblage by such mops and mows as an enraged ape is wont to make at its persecutors. After the lapse of a few minutes, however, he began to find his position so uncomfortable, that he was fain to supplicate for release, to which, on receiving his assurance of quieter conduct for the future, Og consented, and accordingly unhooked him, and set him on the ground.
Nightgall, meanwhile, had taken advantage of this diversion, to leave the Guard-room, and hasten to the Stone Kitchen.
Dame Potentia was just retiring to rest as the jailer reached her dwelling, and it was only by the most urgent importunity that he succeeded in obtaining admission.
Your pardon, good dame, he said, as the door was opened. I have that to tell Cicely, which will effectually cure her love for the young esquire.
In that case, you are right welcome, Master Nightgall, she replied; for the poor child has almost cried her pretty eyes out since I brought her home. And I have been so moved by her tears, that I greatly misdoubt, if her lover had presented himself instead of you, whether I should have had the heart to refuse to let him see her.
In that case, you are right welcome, Master Nightgall, she replied; for the poor child has almost cried her pretty eyes out since I brought her home. And I have been so moved by her tears, that I greatly misdoubt, if her lover had presented himself instead of you, whether I should have had the heart to refuse to let him see her.
Fool! muttered Nightgall, half aside. Where is she? he added, aloud. I have no time to lose. I have a secret execution to attend before day-break.
Yours is a butcherly office, Master Nightgall, observed Peter Trusbut, who was dozing in an arm-chair by the fire. Those secret executions, to my mind, are little better than state murders. I would not, for all the power of the Duke of Northumberland, hold your office, or that of Gilliam Mauger, the headsman.
Nor I yours, on the same fee, Master Pantler, rejoined Nightgall. Tastes differ. Where is your daughter, good dame?
In her chamber, replied Potentia. Ho! Cicely, sweetheart! she added, knocking at a door at the end of a short passage leading out of the kitchen on the right. Here is Master Nightgall desires to speak with you.
Does he bring me the token? demanded the maiden, from within.
Ay marry, does he, child, replied the dame, winking at the jailer. Heaven forgive me the falsehood, she added, for I know not what she means.
Leave us a moment, dear mother, said Cicely, hastily unfastening the door. Now, Master Nightgall, she continued, as Dame Potentia retired, and the jailer entered the room, have you fulfilled your compact?
Cicely, rejoined the jailer, regarding her sternly, you have not kept faith with me. You have despatched a messenger to the palace.
Oh! he is free, exclaimed the maiden, joyfully, your plans have been defeated?
Nightgall smiled bitterly.
My messenger cannot have failed, she continued, with a sudden change of countenance. I am sure Lord Guilford would not abandon his favourite esquire. Tell me, what has happened?
I am come to claim fulfilment of your pledge, rejoined the jailer.
Then you have set him free, cried Cicely. Where is the token?
Behold it, replied Nightgall, raising his hand, on which her lovers ring sparkled.
Lost! lost! shrieked Cicely, falling senseless upon the floor.
The jailer gazed at her a moment in silence, but did not attempt to offer any assistance. He then turned upon his heel, and strode out of the room.
Look to your daughter, dame, he observed, as he passed through the Stone-kitchen.
IX. OF THE MYSTERIOUS MANNER IN WHICH GUNNORA BRAOSE WAS BROUGHT TO THE TOWER
Hurrying along Tower Street, and traversing Eastcheap and Watling Street then narrow but picturesque thoroughfares Gilbert, to whom it is now necessary to return, did not draw breath till he reached the eastern extremity of St. Pauls. As he passed this reverend and matchless structure the destruction of which, was the heaviest loss sustained by the metropolis in the Great Fire he strained his eyes towards its lofty tower, but the gloom was too profound to enable him to discern anything of it beyond a dark and heavy mass.
Thou art at present benighted, glorious fane! he cried aloud. But a bright dawn shall arise for thee, and all thy ancient splendour, with thy ancient faith, be restored. If I could see Mary queen, and hear mass solemnized within thy walls, I could die content.
And you shall hear it, said a voice in his ear.
Who speaks? asked Gilbert, trembling.
Be at St. Pauls Cross to-morrow at midnight, and you shall know, replied the voice. You are a loyal subject of Queen Mary., and a true Catholic, or your words belie you?
I am both, answered Gilbert.
Fail not to meet me then, rejoined the other, and you shall receive assurance that your wishes shall be fulfilled. There are those at work who will speedily accomplish the object you desire.
I will aid them heart and hand, cried Gilbert.
Your name? demanded the other.
I am called Gilbert Pot, answered the youth, and am drawer to Ninion Saunders, at the Baptists Head, in Ludgate.
A vintners boy! exclaimed the other, disdainfully.
Ay, a vintners boy, returned Gilbert. But, when the usurper, Jane Dudley, was proclaimed at Cheapside this morning, mine was the only voice raised for Queen Mary.
For which bold deed you were nailed to the pillory, rejoined the other.
I was, replied Gilbert; and was, moreover, carried to the Tower, whence I have just escaped.
Your courage shall not pass unrequited, replied the speaker. Where are you going?
To my masters, at the Baptists Head, at the corner of Creed Lane not a bow-shot hence.
It will not be safe to go thither, observed the other. Your master will deliver you to the watch.
I will risk it, nevertheless, answered Gilbert. I have an old grandame whom I desire to see.
Something strikes me! exclaimed the other. Is your grandame the old woman who warned the usurper Jane not to proceed to the Tower?
She is, returned Gilbert.
This is a strange encounter, in good sooth, cried the other. She is the person I am in search of. You must procure me instant speech with her.
I will conduct you to her, right willingly, sir, replied Gilbert. But she says little to any one, and may refuse to answer your questions.
We shall see, rejoined the other. Lead on, good Gilbert.
Followed by his unknown companion, about whom he felt a strange curiosity, not unalloyed with fear, Gilbert proceeded at a rapid pace towards his destination. The whole of the buildings then surrounding Saint Pauls, it is almost unnecessary to say, were destroyed by the same fire that consumed the Cathedral; and, though the streets still retain their original names, their situation is in some respects changed.
Passing beneath the shade of a large tree, which then grew at the western boundary of the majestic edifice, Gilbert darted through a narrow entry into Ave Maria Lane, and turning to the left, speedily reached Ludgate, which he crossed at some fifty paces from the Gate then used, like several of the other city portals, as a prison and, entering Creed Lane, halted before a low-built house on the right. The shutters were closed, but it was evident, from the uproarious sounds issuing from the dwelling, that revelry was going on within. Gilbert did not deem it prudent to open the street door, but calling to his companion, he went to the back of the tavern, and gained admittance through a window on the ground floor.
They are having a merry rouse, he observed to the other, in honour of the usurper; and my master, Ninion, will be too far gone to notice aught except his guests and his sack brewage, so that I may safely conduct your worship to my grandame. But first let me strike a light.
With this, he searched about for flint and steel, and having found them, presently set fire to a small lamp hanging against the wall, which he removed and turned, not without some apprehension, towards the stranger.
His glance fell upon a tall man, with an ample feuille-morte coloured cloak thrown over his left shoulder, so as completely to muffle the lower part of his features. Gilbert could see nothing of the strangers face, except an aquiline nose, and a pair of piercing black eyes; but the expression of the latter was so stern and searching, that his own regards involuntarily sank before them. A bonnet of black velvet, decorated with a single drooping feather, drawn over the brow, added to the strangers disguise. But what was revealed of the physiognomy was so striking, that Gilbert was satisfied he should never forget it.