he coat
that Kenneth had worn that day, and which he had abstracted from the
sleeping lad's chamber.

"Off with your doublet," he commanded, and as he spoke he set himself to
empty the pocket of Kenneth's garment; a handkerchief and a few papers
he found in them, and these he tossed carelessly on the bed. Next he
assisted the Irishman to struggle into the stolen coat.

"May the Lord forgive my sins," groaned Hogan, as he felt the cloth
straining upon his back and cramping his limbs. "May He forgive me, and
see me safely out of Penrith and into Cromwell's camp, and never again
will I resent the resentment of a clown whose sweetheart I have made too
free with."

"Pluck that feather from your hat," said Crispin.

Hogan obeyed him with a sigh.

"Truly it is written in Scripture that man in his time plays many parts.
Who would have thought to see Harry Hogan playing the Puritan?"

"Unless you improve your acquaintance with Scripture you are not like to
play it long," laughed Crispin, as he surveyed him. "There, man, you'll
do well enough. Your coat is somewhat tight in the back, somewhat short
in the skirt; but neither so tight nor so short but that it may be
preferred to a winding-sheet, and that is the alternative, Harry."

Hogan replied by roundly cursing the coat and his own lucklessness. That
done--and in no measured terms--he pronounced himself ready to set out,
whereupon Crispin led the way below once more, and out into a hut that
did service as a stable.

By the light of a lanthorn he saddled one of the two nags that stood
there, and led it into the yard. Opening the door that abutted on to
a field beyond, he bade Hogan mount. He held his stirrup for him, and
cutting short the Irishman's voluble expressions of gratitude, he gave
him "God speed," and urged him to use all dispatch in setting as great a
distance as possible betwixt himself and Penrith before the dawn.

CHAPTER III. THE LETTER

It was with a countenance sadly dejected that Crispin returned to his
chamber and sate himself wearily upon the bed. With elbows on his knees
and chin in his palms he stared straight before him, the usual steely
brightness of his grey eyes dulled by the despondency that sat upon his
face and drew deep furrows down his fine brow.

With a sigh he rose at last and idly fingered the papers he had taken
from the pocket of Kenneth's coat. As he did so his glance was arrested
by the signature at the foot of one. "Gre