"Speed! speed! there's not a moment to lose!" she whispered, catching the elbow of the man who stood there, and who had not heard her coming swiftly up behind him.
He turned and stared, putting his eyes close to hers on account of the darkness; she saw that he had a great, scarred, bearded face, and that his body was twice the breadth of Master Holyday's.
"Oh, God!" she exclaimed, drawing back. "I thought you were Master Holyday."
"Master Holyday, eh?" growled the man. "What of him?"
"I--I was to meet him here," she faltered, looking around with a sinking heart.
"Oh!--God's light!--you are the maid, belike? Well, troth, beshrew me but that's the hell of it!" And the fellow grinned with silent laughter.
"What mean you? What maid? Know you aught--?"
"Of Master Holyday? Sooth, do I! He's on t'other side of this gate."
She stared at the closed gate in bewilderment. "What? In the garden?"
"Ay, in the garden." The man raised his voice a little. "Sure thou'rt there, Master Holyday?"
"Ay," came the reply in the scholar's unmistakable voice. "But the maid is not. Hang her, whither is she gone?"
"Here I am," answered the maid, for herself. "In God's name, how got you in there?"
"In God's name, how got you out there?" said Holyday, vexatiously. "A minute ago you were here, and I was there. You could not come out, so I went for this gentleman, who lifted me to the top of the wall--"
"Which was a service not included in the contract," remarked Cutting Tom.
"And here I dropped, thinking to find you," continued Holyday, in exasperation, "and to help you out as he helped me in. And now--"
"Well, I am out, nevertheless," she replied, quickly. "So come you out, pray, without more ado; my father may discover at any moment--"
"Why, devil take me!" cried Holyday, in despair. "I cannot climb the wall; there's none here to give me a shoulder."
"Is there nothing there you can climb upon?" queried Cutting Tom.
"Yes," cried Millicent, taking the answer upon herself; "there are benches. Oh, pray, make haste, Master Holyday!"
Soon Master Holyday could be heard dragging a bench across the sward; in its ordinary position it would not give him sufficient height, so he seemed to busy himself in placing it properly for his purpose. "_Nomine patris!_" he exclaimed as he bruised his fingers. Finally a thud against the upper part of the gate indicated that he had fixed the bench slantwise. Mounting the incline chiefly by means of hands and knees, he stood trembling at the top, high enough to get a purchase of his elbows on the gate, and so to wriggle his body over.