risk being robbed of my papers. There be more in them than must be
suffered to be scanned by any eyes for which they were not meant.
My gold might go, and welcome, but I must save my papers. And if
thou hast any small valuables about thee, I will charge myself with
the care of them, and thou canst call at my lodging in London when
thou gettest there to claim thine own again. 'Twill be the better
chance than leaving yon gentlemen to rid thee of them."

The smile with which the stranger uttered these words was so
winning and frank, that Cuthbert placed his purse in the
outstretched hand without a qualm.

"When thou wantest thine own again, go to the Cat and Fiddle in the
thoroughfare of Holborn, and ask news there of Master Robert
Catesby. It is an eating house and tavern where I am constantly to
be met with. If I be not lodging there at that very time, thou wilt
have news of me there. Farewell; and keep up a brave heart. These
fellows are less harsh with poor travellers than rich. Let them see
you have small fear, and it will be the better for all."

These last words were faintly borne back to Cuthbert on the wings
of the wind, as his companion galloped with long easy strides
across the heath. A little dip in the ground hid for a moment their
pursuers from sight, and before they emerged upon the crest of the
undulation, Master Robert Catesby was practically out of sight; for
a cloud had obscured the brightness of the moon, and only a short
distance off objects became invisible.

Cuthbert rode slowly on his way, trying to compose himself to the
state of coolness and courage that he would like to show in the