Page 320 - A Jacobite Exile

So saying, he bound his arms closely to his side with a rope, and then, with
a shorter piece, fastened his ankles securely together.

"Now I will fetch the cart."

He had been gone but five minutes, when they heard a vehicle stop at the
door. The others lifted the highwayman by his shoulders and feet, carried

him out, and laid him in the cart. Tony closed the door quietly behind them,
and then jumped up by the side of the driver, who at once started the horse

at a brisk trot. They crossed Westminster Bridge, and, after another ten
minutes' drive, stopped at a small house standing back from the road, in a
garden of its own.

"We will carry him in, Tony," Charlie said, "if you will get the door open."

They carried him in through the door, at which a woman was standing, into
a room, where they saw, to their satisfaction, a blazing fire. The prisoner

was laid down on the ground. Leaving him to himself, Charlie and his
friends sat down to the table, which was laid in readiness. Two cold

chickens, and ham, and bread had been placed on it.

"Now, Tony, sit down. You must be as hungry as we are."

"Thank you, gentlemen. I am going to have my breakfast in the kitchen,

with my wife."

As he spoke, the woman came in with two large tankards full of steaming

liquid, whose odour at once proclaimed it to be spiced ale.

"Well, wife, we have done a good night's work," Tony said.

"A good night's work for all of us," Charlie put in. "Your husband has done

us an immense service, Mrs. Peters, and, when our fathers come to their
own again, they will not forget the service he has rendered us."

When they had made a hearty meal, Tony was called in again.