the shelter of the Priory ere night falls on us again, and then the
worst of our troubles will be over. Say, Paul, will you come with
me? Will you follow me?"

"To the death, my prince," answered Paul with enthusiasm; yet even
as he spoke a sort of shiver came over him, as though he had
pronounced his own doom. But he shook it off, and fell to upon the
simple preparations to be made.

These were very simple, and consisted of rolling up into a compact
bundle their outer dress and a change of under tunic, which they
fastened, together with their food wallet and arms, upon their
heads, in the hope that they might keep them from the water. They
slung their boots about their necks, and then, with as little
clothing as possible upon them, commenced their stealthy descent
down the rope, which had been firmly attached as suggested by the
prince. Edward went first, whilst Paul remained in the room to
guard against surprise, and to hold the end if it slipped or gave.
But no such casualty befell; and the moment he heard the slight
splash which told that the prince had reached the water, he swung
himself lightly down the rope, and fell with a soft splash beside
him.

But oh, how cold it was in that dark water! Hardy though the pair
were, it seemed impossible to live in that fearful cold; but they
struck out valiantly into midstream, and presently the exercise of
swimming brought a little life into their benumbed limbs. But glad
indeed was Paul to reach the side of the little wherry which they
intended to purloin, and it was all that their united efforts could
do to clamber in and cut the cord which bound it to the barge.

"We must row hard, Edward," said Paul, with chattering teeth; "it
is our only chance of life. We shall freeze to death if we cannot
get some warmth into our blood. I feel like a block of ice."

They were too much benumbed to try and dress themselves yet, but as
they rowed their hardest along the dark, still water, the life came
ebbing back into their chilled limbs, and with the welcome warmth
came that exultation of heart which always follows escape from
deadly peril. With more and more vigour they bent to their oars,
and at last Edward spoke in a natural voice again.

"Let us float down quietly with the stream a while, Paul, whilst we
don our dry garments, if indeed they are dry. It will be better
here than on shore, where we might chance to be seen and suspected.
I am glowing hot now, freezing night thou