“Would it be possible to get my father out of prison, sir?  I am sure I can get a dozen men, from among the tenants and grooms, who would gladly risk their lives for him.”

“Lancaster jail is a very strong place,” Mr. Jervoise said, “and I fear there is no possibility of rescuing him from it.  Of course, at present we cannot say where the trial will take place.  A commission may be sent down, to hold a special assizes at Lancaster, or the trial may take place in London.  At any rate, nothing whatever can be done, until we know more.  I have means of learning what takes place at Lancaster, for we have friends there, as well as at most other places.  When I hear from them the exact nature of the charge, the evidence that will be given, and the names of those accused of being mixed up in this pretended plot, I shall be better able to say what is to be done.

“Now, I must mount and ride without further delay.  I have to visit all our friends who met at Lynnwood, and it will take me until tomorrow morning to see and confer with them.”

A few minutes after Mr. Jervoise had ridden off, his son and Charlie also mounted.  A man went with them, with a supply of torches, for, although Harry knew the road—­which was little better than a sheep track—­well enough during the day, his father thought he might find it difficult, if not impossible, to follow it on a dark night.

They congratulated themselves upon the precaution taken, before they had gone very far, for there was no moon, the sky was overcast, and a drizzling rain had begun to come down.  They could hardly see their horses’ heads, and had proceeded but a short distance, when it became necessary for their guide to light a torch.  It took them, therefore, over two hours to reach the mountain farm.

They were expected, otherwise the household would have been asleep.  Mr. Jervoise had, as soon as he determined upon their going there, sent off a man on horseback, who, riding fast, had arrived before night set in.  There was, therefore, a great turf fire glowing on the hearth when they arrived, and a hearty welcome awaiting them from the farmer, his wife, and daughters.  Harry had, by his father’s advice, brought two changes of clothes in a valise, but they were so completely soaked to the skin that they decided they would, after drinking a horn of hot-spiced ale that had been prepared for them, go at once to bed, where, in spite of the stirring events of the day, both went off to sleep, as soon as their heads touched the pillows.

The sun was shining brightly, when they woke.  The mists had cleared off, although they still hung round the head of Ingleborough, six miles away, and on some of the other hilltops.  The change of weather had an inspiriting effect, and they went down to breakfast in a brighter and more hopeful frame of mind.  As soon as the meal was over, Harry started for home.

“I hope it won’t be long before I can see you again, Harry,” Charlie said, as he stood by the horse.