During this conversation, to which Harry listened breathlessly, he had heard the tramp of feet going upstairs, and just as they finished speaking these had descended again.  A moment later the door between the two rooms opened, and a man in the faded finery of a Royalist gentleman entered.

“Fires and furies!” he exclaimed.  “Whom have we here?  Marlow, here is an eavesdropper or a thief.  We will slit his weasand.  Aha!” he said, gazing fixedly at Harry, “you are Colonel Furness.  I know you.  You had me flogged the day before Worcester, for helping myself to an old woman’s purse.  It is my turn now.”

Joined by his fellow ruffian he fell upon Harry, but they were no match for the Royalist colonel.  After a few rapid thrusts and parries he ran his first assailant through the body and cut down the man called Marlow, with a sweeping blow which nearly cleft his head asunder.

Scarcely was the conflict ended when the door opened, and the old gypsy entered.  She started at seeing the bodies of the two ruffians.

“I have been attacked,” Harry said briefly, “and have defended myself.”

“It is no business of mine,” the old woman remarked.  “When I have guided you out I will come back again.  It’s strange if there’s not something worth picking up.  Now, pull your hat well over your eyes and follow me.”

Closing and locking the door again, she led the way downstairs.

“Do not walk so straight and stiff,” she said.  “Slouch your shoulders, and stoop your head.  Now.”

Harry sallied out into the lane, keeping by the side of his guide, with his head bent forward, and his eyes on the ground, walking, as far as he could, with a listless gait.  The old woman continued to chatter to him in Romaic.  There were many people about in the lane, but none paid any heed to them.  Harry did not look up, but turned with his guide down several lanes, until they at length emerged on the quays.  Saying she would call next day at his hotel for the reward he had promised her, she left him, and Harry, with his head full of the plot against Cromwell’s life, crossed at once to the vessels by the quay.

“Is any ship sailing for the Thames to-day?” he asked.

“Yes,” the sailor said.  “The Mary Anne is just hoisting her anchor now, out there in midstream.  You will be but just in time, for the anchor’s under her foot.”

Harry sprang into a boat and told the waterman to row to the ship.  The latter stared in astonishment at the authoritative manner in which this gypsy addressed him, but Harry thrust his hand into his pocket, and showed him some silver.

“Quick, man,” he said, “for she is moving.  You will have double fare to put me on board.”

The man pulled vigorously, and they were soon alongside the brig.

“Halloo! what now?” the captain said, looking over the side.

“I want a passage to England, and will pay you your own price.”