Brandon went up to London and saw Jane, and before the appointed time hid himself behind a hedge near the private gate through which the girls intended to take their departure from Bridewell.

They would leave about dusk and return, so Mary said, before it grew dark.

The citizens of London at that time paid very little attention to the law requiring them to hang out their lights, and when it was dark it was dark.

Scarcely was Brandon safely ensconced behind a clump of arbor vitae when whom should he see coming down the path toward the gate but his grace, the Duke of Buckingham.  He was met by one of the Bridewell servants who was in attendance upon the princess.

“Yes, your grace, this is the gate,” said the girl.  “You can hide yourself and watch them as they go.  They will pass out on this path.  As I said, I do not know where they are going; I only overheard them say they would go out at this gate just before dark.  I am sure they go on some errand of gallantry, which your grace will soon learn, I make no doubt.”

He replied that he “would take care of that.”

Brandon did not see where Buckingham hid himself, but soon the two innocent adventurers came down the path, attired in the short skirts and bonnets of orange girls, and let themselves out at the gate.  Buckingham followed them and Brandon quickly followed him.  The girls passed through a little postern in the wall opposite Bridewell House, and walked rapidly up Fleet Ditch; climbed Ludgate Hill; passed Paul’s church; turned toward the river down Bennett Hill; to the left on Thames street; then on past the Bridge, following Lower Thames street to the neighborhood of Fish-street Hill, where they took an alley leading up toward East Cheap to Grouche’s house.

It was a brave thing for the girl to do, and showed the determined spirit that dwelt in her soft white breast.  Aside from the real dangers, there was enough to deter any woman, I should think.

Jane wept all the way over, but Mary never flinched.

There were great mud-holes where one sank ankle-deep, for no one paved the street at that time, strangely enough preferring to pay the sixpence fine per square yard for leaving it undone.  At one place, Brandon told me, a load of hay blocked the streets, compelling them to squeeze between the houses and the hay.  He could hardly believe the girls had passed that way, as he had not always been able to keep them in view, but had sometimes to follow them by watching Buckingham.  He, however, kept as close as possible, and presently saw them turn down Grouche’s alley and enter his house.

Upon learning where they had stopped, Buckingham hurriedly took himself off, and Brandon waited for the girls to come out.  It seemed a very long time that they were in the wretched place, and darkness had well descended upon London when they emerged.

Mary soon noticed that a man was following them, and as she did not know who he was, became greatly alarmed.  The object of her journey had been accomplished now, so the spur of a strong motive to keep her courage up was lacking.