welcome
weight of her precious satchel.

The barge cut its way swiftly up the river in silence save for the
occasional exclamations of the officers urging the willing oarsmen to
their utmost speed.

Far ahead to the right the huge bulk of the Tower of London loomed in
clumsy power against the deep dark blue of the moonlit sky. Rebecca knew
that London Bridge lay not far beyond that landmark, although it was as
yet invisible. For London Bridge she was bound, and it seemed to her
impatience that the lumbering vessel would never reach that goal.

She stood up and strained her eyes through the darkness, trying to see
the laboring forms of the rowers in the shadow of the boat's side, but
only the creak of the thole-pins and the steady recurrent splash and
tinkle from the dripping oars told of their labor.

"Air ye goin' as fast as ye can?" she called. "Mr. Droop'll get there
fust ef ye ain't real spry."

"If spry be active, mistress," said a voice from the darkness aft, "then
should you find naught here amiss. Right lusty workers, these, I promise
you! Roundly, men, and a shilling each if we do win the race!"

"Ay--ay, sir!" came the willing response, and Rebecca, satisfied that
they could do no more, seated herself again, to wait as best she might.

At length, to her great delight, there arose from the darkness ahead an
uneven line of denser black, and at a warning from one of the officers
the boat proceeded more cautiously. Rebecca's heart beat high as they
passed under one of the low stone arches of the famous bridge and their
strokes resounded in ringing echoes from every side.

Having passed to the upper side of the bridge, the boat was headed for
the south shore, and in a few moments Rebecca saw that they had reached
the side of a wooden wharf which stood a little higher than their deck.
One of the officers leaped ashore with the end of a rope in his hand,
and quickly secured the vessel. As he did so a faint light was seen
proceeding toward them, and they heard the steps of a half dozen men
advancing on the sounding planks. It was the watch, and the light shone
from a primitive lantern with sides of horn scraped thin.

"Who goes there?" cried a gruff voice.

"The Queen's barge--in the service of her Majesty," was the reply.

The watchman who carried the lantern satisfied himself that this account
was correct, and then asked if he could be of service.

"Tell me, fellow," said he who had landed, "hast seen o