She made him sit
down, and presently drew from him the whole tale.
Mr. Anthony Babington, his master, was away to London again, leaving the
house in Derby in the hands of the servants. He then--Dick Sampson--was
riding out early to take a horse to be shoed, and had come back through
the town-square, when he saw the group ride up to the gaol door near the
Friar Gate. He, too, had ridden up to ask what was forward, and had been
just in time to see Mr. Thomas taken in. He had caught his eye, but had
feigned not to know him. Then the man had attempted to get at what had
happened from one of the fellows at the door, but could get no more from
him than that the prisoner was a known and confessed recusant, and had
been laid by the heels according to orders, it was believed, sent down
by the Council. Then, Dick had ridden slowly away till he had turned
the corner, and then, hot foot for Padley.
"And I heard the fellow say to one of his company that an informer was
coming down from London on purpose to deal with Mr. Thomas."
Marjorie felt a sudden pang; for she had never forgotten the one she had
set eyes on in the Tower.
"His name?" she said breathlessly. "Did you hear his name?"
"It was Topcliffe, mistress," said Dick indifferently. "The other called
it out."
* * * * *
Marjorie sat silent. Not only had the blow fallen more swiftly than she
would have thought possible, but it was coupled with a second of which
she had never dreamed.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241