At length, the jailer was called.
On unlocking the door, he beheld the earl as he thought, in an attitude of despair, leaning on the table, with his face covered by his hands.
The unhappy countess was overwhelmed by grief, and had to be led forth by her attendant, who was muffled up in her hood to hide her own tears.
The jailer’s stony heart was touched by so much grief. He let them out without a word, fastened the door, and following them down the circular stone steps, offered in a kindly tone to conduct them to the gate.
The countess murmured her thanks, and the man marched on before them, and saved them from any interference, receiving a piece of gold for his pains, when he left them at the Bulwark Gate.
“Tell your lady,” he said to the attendant, who gave him the gratuity, “that I will do all I can for his lordship to-morrow.”
He would have called a coach, but they took a boat, and crossed to the other side of the river.
The first person to enter the prison-chamber after the earl’s flight was the Lieutenant of the Tower.
He was filled with consternation on perceiving that its sole occupant was a very handsome woman.
“The Countess of Nithsdale here!” he exclaimed. “The earl then has escaped?”
“Solely by my connivance,” she replied. “No one here has been concerned in the flight.”
“That remains to be ascertained,” rejoined the Lieutenant. “But your ladyship’s life will be responsible for that of your husband.”
“My husband is safe, and that is enough for me!” cried the countess, joyfully.
“But he may be recaptured,” said the Lieutenant.
“I have no uneasiness on that score,” she rejoined. “My precautions have been too well taken.”
“Well, I must detain your ladyship,” said the Lieutenant. “And I know not what course may be pursued; but I will frankly own that I hope you may be able to rejoin your lord.”
This good wish was eventually fulfilled.
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IV
The Earl of Wintoun’s Escape
ANOTHER important escape must be recounted.
In this case the noble fugitive was indebted entirely to his own exertions for deliverance.
The youth of the Earl of Wintoun was passed in a manner that might have given him extraordinary notoriety in our own time; but though he ran away to France, and disappeared for some years, his claim to the title was never disputed.
Incredible as it may seem, during this period of his career, he hired himself to a blacksmith, and served as a mere bellows-blower for some years.
At the same time he acquired considerable mechanical skill, which was subsequently improved, when he abandoned the hammer and the forge, and his talent now stood him in good stead.
He was imprisoned in the upper part of the Hall Tower, formerly, as its name imported, connected with the old palace, and the windows of his rooms looked into the inner and outer wards.
These windows were strongly grated, but Lord Wintoun derided this obstacle to escape.
Carefully concealed about his person, he had a couple of small files, and setting to work with these implements, he so nearly cut through the bars, that he could immediately remove them when needful.
The main difficulty was now overcome, but the windows were at a considerable height from the ground; and, moreover, there were sentinels both at the back and front, who must be eluded before an escape could be effected.
The Earl of Wintoun, however, was confident in his own ability to manage the matter, and did not doubt he should find an opportunity of getting off.
The opportunity occurred.
During the day a fog had prevailed in the City, and of course extended to the Tower. Indeed, it was thicker there than elsewhere.
Towards night the vapour increased in density. Not only was the White Tower completely hidden, but all the surrounding buildings were obscured. The sentinels could scarcely be distinguished on their posts. Links were lighted, but only served to make the darkness more palpable.
When the fog first came on, the Earl of Wintoun resolved to take advantage of the chance thus offered him, but he waited patiently till night.