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He remembered her now, of course: remembered her as one of the shadowy sidling presences in the background of that awful house in Chelsea, one of the dumb appendages of the shrieking unescapable Mrs. Murrett, into whose talons he had fallen in the course of his head-long pursuit of Lady Ulrica Crispin. Oh, the taste of stale follies! How insipid it was, yet how it clung!
"One of Lord Middleton's officers hath done a man to death not half an hour agone; he is an Irishman Captain Hogan by name." "Hogan Hogan?" repeated Crispin, after the manner of one who fumbles in his memory. "Ah, yes an Irishman with a grey head and a hot temper. And he is dead, you say?" "Nay, he has done the killing." "That I can better understand. 'Tis not the first time, I'll be sworn."
Bear in mind, Colonel Pride, that Abraham hesitated not to offer up his child to the Lord. And so, fare you well." Colonel Pride's face worked oddly, and his eyes rested for a second upon the stern, unmoved figure of the Tavern Knight in malice and vindictiveness. Then, shrugging his shoulders in token of unwilling resignation, he withdrew, whilst Crispin was led out.
In a second was the thought conceived and the determination taken, and as he folded the letter and set upon it the superscription, Joseph felt that he could have cried out in his exultation at the cunning manner in which he was outwitting his enemy. Crispin took the package, and read thereon: This is to Mr. Henry Lane, at the sign of the Anchor, Thames Street, London.
"Now, what's amiss? Oddslife, what ails you?" he cried. "Is there no way, Sir Crispin? Is there naught you can do?" wailed the youth. Instantly Galliard sat up. "Poor lad, does the thought of the rope affright you?" Kenneth bowed his head in silence. "Tis a scurvy death, I own. Look you, Kenneth, there is a dagger in my boot. If you would rather have cold steel, 'tis done.
Then slowly painfully slowly to avoid their steps from ringing upon the stone floor, they crept across towards the door that meant safety to Sir Crispin. Slowly, step by step, they moved, and with every stride Crispin looked behind him, prepared to rush the moment he had sign they were discovered. But it was not needed. In silence and in safety they were permitted to reach the door.
'He means to enquire whether you are a sculptor, ventured I. 'A sculptor certainly not. He spoke sharply, throwing back his head. 'It is impossible that no one here should have heard of me; and this pretence of ignorance is meant as a practical joke. I am a novelist one of the best known novelists living. I am Davis Blake, the author of "Crispin Dorr," and "The Card Dealer."
"Up those stairs and into my room with you!" said Crispin shortly. "I will try to head them off. Come, man, stir yourself; they are here." Then, as with nimble alacrity Hogan obeyed him and slipped from the room, he turned to the lad, who had been a silent spectator of what had passed. From the pocket of his threadbare doublet he drew a pack of greasy playing cards.
John of Beverley, the native saint who shared with the two cordwainers his gratitude for the glories of 'Crispin Crispian's day, his prisoner should, unknown to any save the few who shared the pilgrimage, push on to reconnoitre his own country, and judge for himself, having first sworn to reveal himself to no one, and to avoid all who could recognize him.
Laura remained with her for an hour, and before they separated the culpable woman had taken a tremendous vow kneeling before her sister with her head in her lap never again, as long as she lived, to consent to see Captain Crispin or to address a word to him, spoken or written. The girl went terribly tired to bed.
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