“O Tom, Tom, do not let them do you this despite!  Have a care, oh, have a care how you fall into their hands, for they are without mercy, and full of evil passions, and greedy for the promised gold.  They would swear any man’s life away to obtain the reward; and how much sooner yours, whom they hate!”

Tom felt a strange tremor run through him, half rage, with a dash of fear, and some emotion sweeter than he had ever experienced before, and therefore more strange.  He suddenly found himself clasping Rosamund’s hands in his, and saying: 

“Sweet Rose, would you care if hurt were to befall me?”

Her brimming eyes and quivering lips gave eloquent answer.  He stood very still, holding her hands clasped between his; and when he released them, he answered with a new note in his voice: 

“Have no fears, sweetheart.  They shall not have me.  I have plans that will foil them yet.  But think not too well of me, Rosamund.  I am not the hero you would make me out.  I am a mad fellow, and have played the fool once too often; but for all that they shall not get me.”

“Keep out of their clutches, and I care for nothing else!” cried Rosamund, her eyes alight with excitement.

But they could exchange no more confidences, for Cale’s voice was heard summoning them to dinner; and after that meal they sat together in the cool parlour, and passed the time in talk, having no fear of being disturbed, for none knew of their being within.  Generally in summer weather Cale took his daughter for a long ramble, and sometimes did not return to the house till after he had left her at her aunt’s house in Highgate.

The light slowly waned and faded.  In the open country the day would be bright for some while longer, but in narrow streets it went faster.  Down in the basement, where they had taken their supper, it was growing quite dark, although no lamp had yet been lit.  Cale was just saying that he must take Rosamund home, and was debating within himself whether it would be wise for Tom to accompany them, when there was a sharp, determined knocking at the door, which made Rosamund jump quickly up with blanching cheeks, whilst Cale threw a startled look at Tom, whose face had grown suddenly set and pale.

“Open in the Queen’s name!” cried a loud and authoritative voice from without.

And Cale rose at that summons, for it was not one he might dare to disobey.

The moment he was gone Rosamund sprang to her feet.

“Quick, quick!  This way!  There is a window at the back.  I will let you out, and bar it after you, and throw the key away.  Come, I will show you where!”

Tom sprang after her into a little back kitchen, the door of which the girl promptly locked and barred behind them.  The only other outlet was a narrow window, fastened by a bar that could be locked across it with a padlock.  This she flung open, and disclosed to view a narrow court beneath.