Mr. Arnold was a Lancashire man and a young convert of Oxford—­one of that steady small stream that poured over to the Continent—­a sufficiently well-born and intelligent man to enjoy acting as a servant, which he did with considerable skill.  It was common enough for gentlemen to ride side by side with their servants when they had left the town; and by the time that the two were clear of the few scattered houses outside the City gates, Mr. Arnold urged on his horse; and they rode together.  Robin was in somewhat of a difficulty as to how far he was justified in speaking of what he knew.  It was true that he was not at liberty to use what Anthony had originally told him; but the letter and the commission which he had received certainly liberated his conscience to some degree, since it told him plainly enough that there was a plot on behalf of Mary, that certain persons, one or two of whom he knew for himself, were involved in it, that they were under suspicion, and that they had fled.  Ordinary discretion, however, was enough to make him hold his tongue, beyond saying, as he had said already to the rest of them, that he was the bearer of a message from Mr. Babington, now in prison, to Mary Stuart.  Mr. Arnold had been advertised that he might take up his duties in Lancashire as soon as he liked; but, because of his inexperience and youth, it had been decided that he had better ride with “Mr. Alban” so far as Chartley at least, and thence, if all were well, go on to Lancaster itself, where his family was known, and whither he could return, for the present, without suspicion.

* * * * *

The roads, such as they were, were in a terrible state still with the heavy rain of a few days ago, and the further showers that had fallen in the night.  They made very poor progress, and by dinner-time were not yet in sight of Watford.  But they pushed on, coming at last about one o’clock to that little town, all gathered together in the trench of the low hills.  There was a modest inn in the main street, with a little garden behind it; and while Mr. Arnold took the horses off for watering, Robin went through to the garden, sat down, and ordered food to be served for himself and his man together.  The day was warmer, and the sun came out as they sat over their meal.  When they had done, Robin sent his friend off again for the horses.  They must not delay longer than was necessary, if they wished to sleep at Leighton, and give the horses their proper rest.

* * * * *

When he was left alone, he fell a-thinking once more; and, what with the morning’s ride and the air and the sunshine, and the sense of liberty, he was inclined to be more cheerful.  Surely England was large enough to hide the rest of the plotters for a time, until they could get out of it.  Anthony was taken, indeed, yet, without the rest, he might very well escape conviction.  Robin had not been challenged in any way; the gatekeepers had looked at him, indeed, as he came out of the City; but so they always did, and the landlady here had run her eyes over him; but that was the way of landladies who wished to know how much should be charged to travellers.  And if he had come out so easily, why should not his friends?  All turned now, to his mind, on whether the rest of the conspirators could evade the pursuivants or not.