The Panchronicon Part 58

"No, indeed!" was the reply. "Jest let me hev a swift boat, with plenty o' men to row it, so's to go real fast. Then I'll want a carryall or a buggy in Southwark----"

"A carryall--a buggy!" Elizabeth broke in. "What may these be?"

"Oh, any kind of a carriage, you know, 'cause I'll hev to ride some distance into the country."

"But why such haste?" asked the Queen. "Had this American a horse?"

"He had a bicycle an' that's wuss," said Rebecca. "But ef I can start right away and take a short cut by the river while he finds his way through all them dirty, dark streets, I'll get there fust an' get the rest of his phonographs."

"Your wit is nimble and methinks most sound," said the Queen, decisively. Then, turning to the group of ladies, she continued:

"Send us our chamberlain, my Lady Temple, and delay not, we charge you!"

In ten minutes Rebecca found herself once more upon the dark, still river, watching the slippery writhings of the moonbeams' path. She was alone, save for the ten stalwart rowers and two officers; but in one hand was her faithful umbrella, while in the other she felt the welcome weight of her precious satchel.

The barge cut its way swiftly up the river in silence save for the occasional exclamations of the officers urging the willing oarsmen to their utmost speed.

Far ahead to the right the huge bulk of the Tower of London loomed in clumsy power against the deep dark blue of the moonlit sky. Rebecca knew that London Bridge lay not far beyond that landmark, although it was as yet invisible. For London Bridge she was bound, and it seemed to her impatience that the lumbering vessel would never reach that goal.

She stood up and strained her eyes through the darkness, trying to see the laboring forms of the rowers in the shadow of the boat's side, but only the creak of the thole-pins and the steady recurrent splash and tinkle from the dripping oars told of their labor.

"Air ye goin' as fast as ye can?" she called. "Mr. Droop'll get there fust ef ye ain't real spry."

"If spry be active, mistress," said a voice from the darkness aft, "then should you find naught here amiss. Right l.u.s.ty workers, these, I promise you! Roundly, men, and a s.h.i.+lling each if we do win the race!"

"Ay--ay, sir!" came the willing response, and Rebecca, satisfied that they could do no more, seated herself again, to wait as best she might.

At length, to her great delight, there arose from the darkness ahead an uneven line of denser black, and at a warning from one of the officers the boat proceeded more cautiously. Rebecca's heart beat high as they pa.s.sed under one of the low stone arches of the famous bridge and their strokes resounded in ringing echoes from every side.

Having pa.s.sed to the upper side of the bridge, the boat was headed for the south sh.o.r.e, and in a few moments Rebecca saw that they had reached the side of a wooden wharf which stood a little higher than their deck.

One of the officers leaped ash.o.r.e with the end of a rope in his hand, and quickly secured the vessel. As he did so a faint light was seen proceeding toward them, and they heard the steps of a half dozen men advancing on the sounding planks. It was the watch, and the light shone from a primitive lantern with sides of horn sc.r.a.ped thin.

"Who goes there?" cried a gruff voice.

"The Queen's barge--in the service of her Majesty," was the reply.

The watchman who carried the lantern satisfied himself that this account was correct, and then asked if he could be of service.

"Tell me, fellow," said he who had landed, "hast seen one pa.s.s the bridge to-night astride of two wheels, one before the other, riding post-haste?"

There was a long pause as the watchman sought to comprehend this extraordinary question.

"Come--come!" cried the officer, who had remained on the boat. "Canst not say yes or no, man?"

"Ay, can I, master!" was the reply. "But you had as well ask had I seen a witch riding across the moon on a broomstick. We have no been asleep to dream of flying wheels."

"Well--well!" said he who had landed. "Go you now straight and stand at the bridge head. We shall follow anon."

The watch moved slowly away and Rebecca was helped ash.o.r.e by the last speaker.

"Our speed hath brought us. .h.i.ther in advance, my lady," he said. "Now shall we doubtless come in before the fugitive."

"Well, I hope so!" said Rebecca. Then, with a smothered cry: "Oh, Land o' Goshen! I've dropped my umbrella!"

They stooped together and groped about on the wharf in silence for a few moments. The landing was enc.u.mbered with lumber and stones for building, and, as the moon was just then covered by a thick cloud, the search was difficult.

"I declare, ain't this provokin'!" Rebecca cried, at length.

"These beams and blocks impede us," said the officer. "We must have light, perforce. Ho there! The watch, ho! Bring your lanthorn!"

"Why, 'tain't worth while to trouble the watchman," said Rebecca. "I'll jest strike a light myself."

She fumbled in her satchel and found a card of old-fas.h.i.+oned silent country matches, well tipped with odorous sulphur. The officer at her side saw nothing of her movements, and his first knowledge of her intention was the sudden and mysterious appearance of a bluish flame close beside him and the tingle of burning brimstone in his nostrils.

With a wild yell, he leaped into the air and then, half crazed by fear, tumbled into the boat and cut the mooring-rope with his sword.

"Cast off--cast off!" he screamed. "Give way, lads, in G.o.d's name! A witch--a witch! Cast off!"

A gentle breeze off the sh.o.r.e carried the sulphurous fumes directly over the boat, and these, together with their officer's terror-stricken tones and the sight of that uncanny, sourceless light, struck the crew with panic. Fiercely and in sad confusion did they push and pull with boat-hook and oar to escape from that unhallowed vicinity, and, even after they were well out in the stream, it was with the frenzy of superst.i.tious horror that they bent their stout backs to their oars and glided swiftly down stream toward Greenwich.

As for Rebecca--comprehending nothing of the cause of this commotion at first--she stood with open mouth, immovable as a statue, watching the departure of her escort until the flame reached her fingers. Then, with a little shriek of pain, she flicked the burnt wood into the river.

"Well, if I ever!" she exclaimed. "I'm blest ef I don't b'lieve those ninnies was scared at a match!"

Shaking her head, she broke a second match from her card, struck it, and when it burned clear, stooped to seek her umbrella. It was lying between two beams almost at her feet, and she grasped it thankfully just as her light was blown out by the breeze.

Then, with groping feet, she made her way carefully toward the insh.o.r.e end of the wharf, and soon found herself in the streets of Southwark, between London Bridge and the pillory. From this point she knew her way to the grove where the Panchronicon had landed, and thither she now turned a resolute face, walking as swiftly as she dared by the light of the now un.o.bscured moon.

"If Copernicus Droop ketches up with me," she muttered, "I'll make him stop ef I hev to poke my umbrella in his spokes."

CHAPTER XVI

HOW SIR GUY KEPT HIS TRYST

For one hour before sunset of that same day Phoebe had been patiently waiting alone behind the east wall of the inn garden. As she had expected, her step-mother had accompanied her father to London that afternoon, and she found herself free for the time of their watchfulness. She did not know that this apparent carelessness was based upon knowledge of another surveillance more strict and secret, and therefore more effective than their own.

The shadow of the wall within which she was standing lengthened more and more rapidly, until, as the sun touched the western horizon, the whole countryside to the east was obscured.

Phoebe moved out into the middle of the road which ran parallel to the garden wall and looked longingly toward the north. A few rods away, the road curved to the right between apple-trees whose blossoms gleamed more pink with the touch of the setting sun.

"Nothing--no one yet!" she murmured. "Oh, Guy, if not for love, could you not haste for life!"

As though in answer to her exclamation, there came to her ears a faint tapping of horses' hoofs, and a few moments later three hors.e.m.e.n turned the corner and bore down upon her.

One glance was enough to show her that Guy was not one of the group, and Phoebe leaped back into the shadow of the wall. She felt that she must not be seen watching here alone by anyone. As she stood beneath the fringe of trees that stood outside of the garden wall, she looked about for means of better concealment, and quickly noticed a narrow slit in the high brick enclosure, just wide enough for a man to enter. It had been barred with iron, but two of the bars had fallen from their sockets, leaving an aperture which looked large enough to admit a slender girl.