XV
Of Our Escape from the Magistrate’s Custody
Now, what with the noise and confusion of the last few minutes, taken together with a somewhat hard blow that lighted upon the back of my head, I was so dazed and astonished that it was some moments before I fully recovered my senses. However, when I became master of myself, there I was, sure enough, in the cellar underneath the worthy magistrate’s house. A remarkably dull and quiet place it was, and felt very damp and cold to my touch when I stretched out my hands and encountered the walls and floor on which we had been unceremoniously thrown. There was rather more than a little water trickling down those walls, and my fingers encountering it bred in me a feeling of much resentment against our captors for treating us in such scurvy fashion. Moreover, the hole was so dark that I could see nothing, and there was not a single ray of light penetrating through niche or crevice. A most disagreeable place it indeed was, and doubly so to me, who until that moment had never been curtailed of my lawful liberty.
While I was dimly recognising these matters, the rap on my head still troubling me somewhat, I was startled by a groan close at my left hand. This was succeeded by a succession of snorts and sniffs, as if some person were slowly awaking from a sound slumber, and presently my ears were saluted by the voice of Jack Drumbleforth, who had evidently been bundled into the cellar in a much more damaged state than myself.
“Plague on it!” said Jack, as if grumbling to himself; “my head hums like a church tower in ringing time. Where on earth are we that ’tis so dark? Methinks this couch is not of the softest. Will—Will Dale!”
“I am near thee, Jack.”
“Hah!” said he. “Well, I knew thou wouldst not be far away. Where are we, Will? Fighting we were, I know; and some ugly crop-eared varlet gave me a foul blow from the rear, and then—why, then, I remember little more.”
“Nor I, Jack, for someone treated me after the same fashion. But, Jack, where is Philip Lisle?”
“Plague on it! he was with us too. Nay, they may have killed honest Philip outright!”
“It may be that he is in this hole with us,” I said, beginning to feel around me in the darkness. “Stretch out your arms, Jack, and search for him.”
Now, the whole place was so black that I was almost afraid to get on my legs and explore it, lest I should fall down some sudden pit in the floor, and thus come to worse things. However, I rose up, and cautiously felt around me, meeting with naught but damp walls and a slippery floor. Further off I heard Jack grumbling at our fate, and uttering many condemnations upon those who had brought us to it.
“An I had his worship down here,” said Jack, “I would teach him better than to throw three gentlemen such as we into this vile foxhole. What, things are come to a pretty pass indeed when a round-bellied old butcher like yonder shallow-pated graybeard sits on the bench to administer justice! Where art thou, Will? As for me, I am wandering in Stygian darkness.”
“Do you feel aught of Master Lisle, Jack?”
“Nay, lad, I have felt naught yet save this greasy floor and these damp walls. This—Ah, here is something, Will, under my foot. ’Tis a man! I swear ’tis poor Master Lisle.”
By that time I had felt my way towards Jack’s direction, and I stooped down and laid my hand on the body.
“Master Lisle it is, Jack, and none other. Pray God he is not dead! Nay, his heart beats, and he breathes. If we had but a cup of water!”
“God be praised!” said Jack. “I have a bottle of cordial in my pocket, which I bought of Master Sage, the apothecary, for old Deborah, our housekeeper. She useth it for the falling sickness, but ’tis my opinion that it hath somewhat of strong waters in it, and is not ungrateful to the palate. What do you say, Will; shall we pour a drop into his mouth?”
“Quick, Jack, uncork the bottle and let me try it. I am holding his head on my knee. Can you feel him in the darkness? Pour it gently between his lips.”
“Plague on this black hole!” said Jack. “I have poured a good half down his doublet. Hold his head steady, Will. There, good Master Lisle, how is it with you? ’Tis a fine cordial this, Will, and strong enough to bring a dead horse to life. There, thou seest, he is coming round. Shall I dose him again?”
“Gently, Jack, do not choke him. Thy cordial smells like strong waters.”
“Good faith, lad, ’tis little else. Shouldst see our old Deborah smack her lips over it! ‘A little drop, Master John,’ she says, ‘the leastest drop in the world, Master John, is a fine thing for a sinking heart.’ So ho! Master Lisle, pull yourself together, man!”
Now, the effect of the cordial was so praiseworthy that Philip Lisle began to cough and then to struggle in my arms, and finally raised his hand to his head and uttered a most fervent groan, which, though dismal enough in itself, was to me the sweetest music I ever heard. For I had feared he was mortally hurt, and then what should I have said to Mistress Rose if ever we got out of that black abyss again?
“How do you now, sir?” said Jack.
“Oh!” said Philip Lisle. “My head rings like is it you, Jack, and where are we, and where is Will Dale?”
“Here I am, sir, holding you up,” said I.
“And I am here, holding the cordial,” said Jack. “Try another drop, sir—’tis, I assure you, the right sort.”
“They have clapped us into gaol, I suppose,” said Philip Lisle, having again drunk of the contents of Mistress Deborah’s bottle. “Well, ’tis dark enow for aught.”
“This is no gaol,” said Jack, “but only his worship’s cellar, and a damp hole it is. We are like to have the ague an we lie here much longer, let alone the rheumatics. However, ’tis the fortune of war.”
“Let me stand up,” said Philip Lisle. “Alack, lads, my head feels sore where yonder snub-nosed rogue struck me with his quarterstaff. Well, how long are we like to remain here, I wonder?”
“Till master magistrate can do justice upon us, I should think,” said Jack.
“Why, man, what breach of the peace have we committed? We are in the right; ’tis they who are in the wrong, rebels and traitors that they are!”
“Yea, surely,” said Jack; “but they have might on their side, and might, they say, is right all the world over. However, what care I? When I elected to fight, I did not expect to fight with a branch of asphodel. Let us be as content as possible. If we had somewhat to sit upon, and a little food and drink, I could live till morning.”
Now, it appeared as if our captors were going to leave us in that dark and uncomfortable lodging all night, for what seemed to be a long space of time went by before we heard aught of any of them. But at last, when we had despaired of any succour, the noise of a bolt and chain greeted our ears, and suddenly a door, somewhat above our heads, was opened, and a light streamed in upon us, revealing the figures of the choleric magistrate who had captured us, and of two or three of his men. This small group looked down upon us with something of triumph in their faces.
“So, my fine birds,” quoth his worship, “so ye are caged at last, and are like to have your wings clipped. A pretty pass we are come to, when such as ye incite honest citizens to war and bloodshed!”
“Sir,” said Philip Lisle, “I am an officer holding his Majesty’s commission, and—”
But at this he was interrupted by a burst of violent laughter.
“Yes, indeed?” said the old man. “Thou art a noted highwayman, robber, and thief, fellow. An officer, eh? Methinks the King would have done better to set apart some officer to see justice done upon thee at Tyburn. And you, Master Dale, a respectable yeoman, how can you associate yourself with folk like these? Fie on you, Master Dale!”
“Sir,” I said, “I know not what you mean, but I am very sure that I shall punish those who have placed me here. Let us go at once about our liberty, sir. You have no right to detain us.”
“Nay,” quoth he, “if we have not right, we have power. We are for the Commonwealth in this town, lads, and will have no Star Chamber spies amongst us. Fie on you, Master Dale! And you, John Drumbleforth, fie on you! A parson’s son, and thus early led astray. But what can ye expect? These parsons are but wolves that rob the starved sheep, and their brood is no better.”
“Sir,” said Jack, “if you refer to my father, I make free to tell you that you are a liar. For my father is as good a shepherd as ever wore cassock and bands, though indeed he prayeth not at the street-corners, as I hear your worship is fond of doing.”
Now, it would appear that the worthy man was somewhat used to air his religion, so that Jack touching him in a tender spot, he presently withdrew in a great passion, bidding his men bolt and chain us up again until our proud stomachs were cooled. Which they with alacrity did, so that we were once more left to the damp and darkness of the cellar.
This sad fate seemed peculiarly hard to Jack and to myself, who had never known what it was to have key turned upon us in our lives, and who were, moreover, not accustomed to be treated in such summary fashion. The sound of the bolting and chaining of our prison-door grated very harshly upon our ears, and when the sound had died away and all was silent, we each gave vent to a dismal sigh.
“Nay, lads,” said Philip Lisle, “you must not give way at a trifling matter like this. What! ’tis nothing to be shut up in a hole like this for an hour or two.”
“With submission, sir,” said Jack, “it seems to me a good deal, and your hour or two is like to be all night at least. Moreover, where are we going to find food and light? A comfortable night’s lodging we are like to have, upon my word!”
“Courage, Jack,” said I. “We shall manage to keep ourselves alive, I doubt not. I pray there be no rats in these cellars.”
“Rats!” said Jack. “Ah! I see how it is. We are to be eaten alive. These cellars, now—it seems to me, Will, that I remember something of them in our schooldays.”
“Why, of course, Jack. Do you not remember Samuel Penn, the stout lad, whose father kept the cooper’s shop over against the Cross? We played many a game of hide-and-seek with Sam under that shop. Five or six doors away from this it is, and I warrant these are similar cellars. If so, we might wander in here a good while ere we came at an end.”
Which was true enough, for the cellars under those ancient houses in the Marketplace at Pontefract are so extensive in size that you might easily mistake them for natural caverns. They are all hewn out of the solid rock, and have so many twistings and turnings and odd nooks and corners, that one might hide there with safety from a foe. Some of them, again, are connected by secret passages with various parts of the town, such as the Castle and the Priory of the White Friars, while others have secret staircases by which men could escape to the roof and leave no one the wiser. Designed for safety and protection they doubtless were in the ancient days, and being underground, they are still in the same condition as they were two hundred years ago.
Now, after we had remained some time in his worship’s cellar, we began to grow very weary, and would fain have reposed ourselves if there had been aught to sit upon.
“What scurvy dogs are these,” said Jack, “that will not give an honest enemy so much as a three-legged stool to sit upon! I never remember my legs aching so much before.”
“I am going to sit on the floor, lads,” said Philip, “and I advise you to follow my example. Take off your doublets and fold them into a cushion on which to sit. It will at least keep the damp away from you somewhat.”
“What!” said Jack. “So we are to sit upon our doublets all night, like a tailor on a table, without support for back or head. Fine work truly! However, we will lay it up against master magistrate, and charge him royally for it when pay-time comes.”
Now, it seemed to me that we should be much more comfortable if we all sat back to back, so that each would lean against the other. Which plan I proposed and carried out, so that in a few minutes we were all sitting in a triangle on the cellar-floor, with our knees drawn up to our chins. And after that the night seemed to pass on slowly indeed.
It might be about midnight, though indeed it seemed to me and my companions much later, when I became conscious—for I had dozed somewhat—of a very low voice whispering to us through the darkness:
“Hist! hist! hist!”
“Who calls!” I said in a low voice.
“Is it thee, Will?” whispered a familiar voice.
“Yes, and here is Jack and Master Lisle,” said I.
“ ’Tis I, Ben Tuckett,” said the low voice. “Are you watched at all, Will?”
“Nay,” I said, “there is naught to see us by here. Where are you, good Ben?”
“Hush!” said he. “I will show a light.”
Presently there was a faint glimmer of light through a niche above the wall at our right-hand side. We rose from our cramped position and drew near to it.
“There is a door here,” whispered Ben through the crack, “if only I can find the spring. Ye see, lads, his worship’s shop is next to mine, so when I heard that he had thrown you into his cellar and meant to detain you there all night, I came down into my own cellar and began searching about for this door, of which I had heard. Beshrew me! ’tis mighty hard to push back this same spring in the wall. Ah! there it is—but come forth quietly, gentlemen, for I would not have them know how you got out for all I am worth.”
While he spoke he had found the spring and caused the stone to revolve, and we now passed out through a narrow slit in the wall, and found ourselves in worthy Ben Tuckett’s cellar, and at liberty once more.