nd by the French
king. Immediately also on hearing of the plot, a number of seamen who
had remained concealed for fear of the press-gangs, came forward and
volunteered on board the various ships which had commenced fitting out.
Indeed the discovery of this abominable Jacobite plot had such an effect
upon the nation generally, that many who formerly pitied the condition
of the exiled king, were now completely alienated from him, by this
means producing a more perfect establishment of King William on the
throne.

John Deane's residence in the fens, and the experience he there gained
in finding his way across country, assisted him greatly in the ride he
was now taking northward. He had carefully noted every spot as he came
by with Long Sam, and he was thus able to ride forward without having to
inquire the road. His nerves were well strung and he was
constitutionally brave; but never before had he felt so uncomfortable as
he now did. Every moment he expected to have Long Sam galloping after
him; and he felt very sure that those who contemplated the assassination
of the king would not hesitate to kill him, if they fancied it would
conduce to their safety or interest to put him out of the way. He could
not help expecting also to be stopped by adherents of King William who
might have heard of the plot and would naturally inquire why he was thus
spurring onward away from London. They might, he thought, suppose that
he was one of the conspirators. It could be shown that he had been
associating with those who had engaged in the plot. He might thus
probably from being unable to prove his innocence, lose his life along
with them.

He rode on through that long winter's night without stopping. His horse
was well trained, having both spirit and bottom; and thus daylight found
him still pressing onward. At length he was obliged to pull up at the
sign of the Fox and Chickens, a small roadside inn some fifty miles or
more from London. The landlord eyed him askance as he led his horse
into the stable, and began carefully to rub down the animal, to prepare
it for its food.

"Will it please you to take some breakfast, my master?" asked Boniface,
with a peculiar expression. "You seem to have ridden pretty hard since
sunrise?"

"Yes," answered Jack; "my poor beast has borne me well. He has a few
more miles to go before I can stable him for the night; and he needs
rest and refreshment more than I do after his gallop over the