CHAPTER XXVII
THE ESCAPE
Frequently after this Francis saw Edward Devereaux in the garden, but shepreserved such a distant demeanor toward him that the youth did not dareto address her.
"Fie upon thee, lady bird," chided Mrs. Shelton. "Is it thus that thoudost requite such favor? Thou dost not deserve to be remembered."
"But I thought that the gifts came from Lord Shrope," said Francis. "Andthey are from mine enemy."
"But they served the self-same purpose, chuck, as if they were in truthfrom him. Did they not rouse thee from thy depression? I tell thee that Ihave been long in these grim walls, and I have seen men of high degreeforgotten and forsaken by friends. They have remained here years withoutone token from without. Thou hast been favored to no small extent, andnow thou dost repine and will not touch thy guitar because, forsooth,'twas sent thee by 'thine enemy.' Marry! Pray Heaven send me suchenemies!"
"It may be that I have been somewhat ungracious," said Francispenitently. "If thou wilt permit, good mistress, I will tell the lad so.But I wish it had been my Lord Shrope."
"Out upon thee for such a wish, child! Marry! to desire to be rememberedby an old man rather than by a young, handsome----" she laughed and addedslyly, "enemy. Were he not in the queen's favor thou couldst not haveliberty to speak with him, and thou art foolish to let slip suchopportunity for converse. The queen may repent her of his imprisonment atany time, and then thou mayst never see another to hold communion with."
"Am I always to stay here, Mrs. Shelton?" asked Francis wistfully."Though in truth were I to be freed I would not know where to go. Still'tis hard to be shut up within this dreary place."
"I know not, child."
"Why have I not been brought to trial?" continued the girl, "Others weretried and sentenced and met their doom, while I linger on, not knowingwhat my fate is to be."
"I know not," answered Mrs. Shelton again. "Question it not, girl. Thereare those here who have lain for years in like uncertainty, and will sowait until death releases them."
"And their lot will be mine," observed the maiden mournfully. "Happy werethey who met death on the block! I am so young and so strong. 'Twill belong ere the tomb claims me. And to look forward to all those years--oh,'tis hard, hard!" She paused for a time, and then went on pathetically:"I dreamed of the fens and the wildwood last night, mistress. Methoughtthe breeze came fresh from the distant sea. I felt its breath upon mycheek. I heard the sound of the horns, and the bay of the hounds as theywere unleashed for the chase. I mounted my palfrey, and dashed in pursuitof the dogs. I rode as ne'er I rode before. On and on! and then, as theclamor of the hounds told me the game was brought to bay, I reached formy bow, and--touched the walls of my prison. Then I awoke. It was all adream," she ended with a sob. "All a dream, and I shall never ride inthe forest again."
"There, sweetheart! think no more on it," soothed Mrs. Shelton. "Come!let us go down to the bonny laddie who, even if he be thine enemy is morereal than dreams."
Francis composed herself and followed the woman into the garden whereEdward Devereaux already wandered. As she answered his greeting with aslight smile the youth ventured to enter into conversation.
"Hast heard the report?" he began eagerly. "'Tis said that the Spanishhave been driven back to their coasts by a storm, but are again preparingto sail for England. Oh, for a chance at them! If I could but once take aDon by the beard I would content me to stay in these walls forever."
"Say not so, Master Devereaux," said Francis. "'Tis a dreary place, andhadst thou been here for nigh two years as I have been thou wouldst notutter such things. 'Tis dreary--dreary!" She sighed heavily, and despiteherself a tear rolled down her cheek.
"How now, Francis," cried Devereaux touched by her distress. "Thou withthe megrims? Why, Francis, 'tis unlike thy spirit!"
"I had a dream," said Francis striving to repress her tears, "and it hathmade me long for liberty." And she related it to him.
"I wonder not at thy longing," said the lad. "I too desire with all myheart to be free. And," he lowered his voice and glanced about for Mrs.Shelton but she was busied over some plants, and out of earshot, "and Iintend to be soon."
"What!" cried Francis, her grief forgotten, looking at him witheagerness.
"Not so loud," cautioned Edward. "I mean to escape, Francis, and to go toLord Howard to help fight the Spaniards."
"Oh, Edward," breathed the girl, "take me with you."
"Nay; I cannot. Thou art but a girl, and the risk would be too great. Ihave the freedom of this inner ward, but there still remains the outerward and the moat, which, as thou knowest, is on all sides of the Tower,and on the south there is the Thames also. The hazard would be toogreat."
"Nay, nay," pleaded Francis, her soul on fire at the mere mention ofescape. "Do take me."
"But what couldst thou do even were we to succeed?" demanded Devereaux."Where couldst thou go?"
"To my father in France," replied Francis.
"Nay; but"--began Devereaux again when the girl caught his hand and heldit tightly with her own.
"I will not let thee go until thou dost consent," she cried with some ofher old wilfulness. "Oh, Edward, do say yes."
Devereaux looked at her thin hands, her face so pale and worn, sodifferent from its former sauciness, and all the chivalry of his naturerose up.
"When thou dost speak so, Francis," he said gently, "I can deny theenothing."
"And thou wilt?" cried she with shining eyes.
"Yea, Francis; but consider well the danger. If we fail it may meandeath."
"We will not fail," declared the girl with positiveness. "If we do, isnot death better than imprisonment? I promise that I will kill at leastone Spaniard."
"I will hold thee to that vow," laughed Devereaux. "But thy woman comes,Francis. I will inform thee of the plan when I fix on one. Fare youwell."
"Fare you well," returned Francis.
"Thine enemy's converse hath done thee good," commented Mrs. Sheltonwaggishly on their return to the upper chamber of the Bell Tower.
Francis looked at her a moment and then said with dignity:
"I had forgot that he was mine enemy, mistress. Besides, I may have beensomewhat unmannerly in my treatment of Master Devereaux, and it behoovesme as a gentlewoman to make other recompense for his courtesy."
"And say you so, Francis?" laughed Mrs. Shelton who considered the affairgreat sport. "Belike it be no unpleasant duty. But there, child! 'Tislittle of entertainment thou hast, so make merry with the lad for I fearthat he will not remain here long."
"I fear so too," answered Francis, and in her heart lay the unspoken wishthat not only Devereaux's time but her own might be short.
The days passed and Edward Devereaux had not yet matured a scheme fortheir flight. June waxed and waned, and July was upon them. Then one day,when the girl had almost despaired of hearing him speak of the attemptagain, Devereaux said to her in a low tone:
"Art thou willing to make the effort to-night, Francis?"
"To-night?" cried Francis thrilling at the thought. "Yea; to-night,Edward. But how?"
"Does Mrs. Shelton stay in your chamber at night?"
"Not now. Not since I recovered from mine illness."
"And is there not a flight of steps leading to the roof?"
"Yes;" replied Francis surprised. "How knew you that?"
"Easily. The alarm bell of the fortress stands on that roof, and theremust of necessity be communication from the inside as well as from theoutside. Besides all the other towers are so connected. Thou knowest thatmy lodging is the uppermost story of the Bloody Tower where traditionhath it that the two princes of York were murdered by Richard ofGloucester. I have found that between the outer wall of the Tower and thechamber there is a passage communicating with the top of the ballium wallto the west. Along that I will proceed until I reach the roof of the BellTower where I will make fast the rope for our descent. After we are downwe must make use of our wits to pass the gate in the Bywa
rd Tower and soreach Tower wharf where friends will await us with a boat. There is nomoon, and the darkness will favor the plan. There are secret passageswhich lead out of the Tower but these I have been unable to discover.They are known to but few and those few are incorruptible. The passageleading to my lodgings is all that I have knowledge of, and I had muchado to find that, and to obtain the rope."
"But the sentinel, Edward? There is always one stationed by the bell."
"Leave him to me, Francis," said Devereaux evasively. "Do you fear toadventure it?"
"Nay, Edward. I rather rejoice at the opportunity for action."
"Then await my coming. And to-night the die will be cast. Liberty andEngland, or imprisonment and death! All depends upon this throw. Do youfear, Francis?"
"No;" answered she proudly. "I am no weakling that I should fear. Dostthou not know the motto of the Staffords: A l'outrance? (To the utmost) Iam a Stafford. Therefore will I dare to the utmost."
"Well said, mistress. If my courage fail me thou wilt inspire it anew. Sofare you well until night."
They parted, and Francis returned to her chamber to await the coming ofthe darkness with what patience she could. The hours went by on leadenwings. At last the portal leading to the roof was opened, and EdwardDevereaux's voice sounded in a low whisper:
"Francis!"
"I am here," answered the girl thrilled by the call.
"Then come!"
Gladly she obeyed, and ascended the short flight of steps, and soon stoodbeside the form of Devereaux on the roof.
"The sentinel," she whispered.
"Lies there," and Devereaux pointed to a dark figure extended at fulllength beside the belfry. "Mind him not. We must hasten. Here is therope. Descend, and loose not thine hold of it until thy feet have touchedground as thou lovest life. Remember the fate of Griffin of Wales."
Francis grasped the rope and swung herself clear of the belfry. For amoment she swayed dizzily, then the rope settled, and steadying herselfby means of the roughened surface of the old walls she slipped quickly tothe ground. The Bell Tower consisted of only one story above the groundone so that the feat was not so difficult as it would have been from anyof the other towers. Giving a tug to the rope in token that she hadreached the ground in safety she waited Devereaux's coming withpalpitating heart. In a few moments he was beside her.
For a second they stood silently, but no sound from the battlements abovebetokened that their flight had been discovered. Grasping the girl's handDevereaux drew her quickly across the outer ward into the shadow of theByward Tower through which was the principal entrance. This was guardedby a burly warder whom the youth could not hope to overcome by strength,so he resolved upon a strategy. With a low breathed injunction to Francishe bent over, and ran at full tilt into the man as he came toward them,hitting him, as he had foreseen, directly in the stomach and upsettinghim. With a roar and a shout the guard sprang to his feet just as theydarted past him. The drawbridge leading across the moat was closed, but,nothing daunted, the two leaped over the railing into the moat below.
The sentinels on the battlements of the tower heard the splash andinstantly gave the alarm. The bell rang; lights flashed along theramparts, and numerous shots were fired into the moat after thefugitives. The moat was wide and deep, and Francis whose physical vigorwas undermined by her long confinement, felt her strength failing.
"Leave me, Edward," she gasped. "I can hold out no longer. Savethyself!"
"Never!" came from Devereaux valiantly, and he supported her with hisarm. "Lean on me. The wharf is not far distant. Courage!"
As they neared the other side a low whistle sounded, which the ladanswered in like manner. Then indistinctly the form of a man becamevisible on the opposite bank. Again the whistle came, and a line wasthrown out to them. This Edward grasped, and they were soon towed toshore, and pulled from the water.
"We must hasten," said the man who had come to their assistance. "Thewhole garrison is aroused."
With all the speed they could muster they hurried to the Tower wharfwhere a boat was in waiting.
"Devereaux," said a man grasping the hand of the youth, "is it thou?"
"In very truth 'tis I, Walter. And right glad am I to be here. Buthasten, beseech you. I would not be retaken for all the wealth ofSpain."
The boat shot out from the wharf into the river, and passed swiftly downthe stream.
In Doublet and Hose: A Story for Girls Page 27
