You, of course, know without the telling, that I reached land safely after
I scuttled the boat, else I should not be writing this forty years
afterwards.

The sun had risen when I waded ashore. I was swordless, coatless, hatless,
and bootless; but I carried a well-filled purse in my belt. Up to that
time I had given no thought to my ultimate destination; but being for the
moment safe, I pondered the question and determined to make my way to
Haddon Hall in Derbyshire, where I was sure a warm welcome would await me
from my cousin, Sir George Vernon. How I found a peasant's cottage,
purchased a poor horse and a few coarse garments, and how in the disguise
of a peasant I rode southward to the English border, avoiding the cities
and the main highways, might interest you; but I am eager to come to my
story, and I will not tell you of my perilous journey.

One frosty morning, after many hairbreadth escapes, I found myself well
within the English border, and turned my horse's head toward the city of
Carlisle. There I purchased a fine charger. I bought clothing fit for a
gentleman, a new sword, a hand-fusil, a breastplate, and a steel-lined
cap, and feeling once again like a man rather than like a half-drowned
rat, I turned southward for Derbyshire and Haddon Hall.

When I left Scotland I had no fear of meeting danger in England; but at
Carlisle I learned that Elizabeth held no favor toward Scottish refugees.
I also learned that the direct road from Carlisle to Haddon, by way of
Buxton, was infested with English spies who were on the watch for friends
of the deposed Scottish queen. Several Scotchmen had been arrested, and it
was the general opinion that upon one pretext or another they would be
hanged. I therefore chose a circuitous road leading to the town of Derby,
which lay south of Haddon at a distance of six or seven leagues. It would