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authority of the warrant; or he would take up his residence at the Manor House; or he would enlist as many men as possible, and go across the Border to join the Scots. All these steps Mr. Hilyard combated, pointing out that the pursuit and search after him would be the hotter for the Scotch news; that to resist the warrant would be madness, unless he were assured of his friends' backing; and that nɔ Northumberland men would cross the Border to fight beside the Scots.

'However,' said Tom, one thing I am resolved I will leave this cursed doghole, and that at once. Where else canst thou stow a man, Tony?'

'Why, indeed,' said Mr. Hilyard, ‘there is no place so snug as this. But, if proper precautions are used, I see not why Farne Island -but that when all else fails-or Blanchland, or there are dry holes up Devilstone Water, or there are the miners' huts at Allendale, or, if the worst comes to the worst, there are the gipsies, who would take your honour across the Cheviots by a safe path, and so to Lord Mar himself, if you are assured

'Assured, man!

I am assured of nothing,

save that it is my only chance.

me talk with some of my friends.'

But first let

He was so restless that, to keep him quiet, we agreed to ride with him to Blanchland, where he might confer with Lord Derwentwater. We rode by night for greater safety, resting at the house of a friend who shall be nameless-of friends there were plenty-in the day. There was to be one more night journey for me with Tom, but of that I knew not then, and rode beside him proud and joyful that the long suspense was to be ended and the battle fought. The God of War is worshipped, I am sure, with as much faith by women as by men. To me, thinking while we rode silently in the light of the moon upon the open moor or in the black shade of the woods, my heart glowed within me, and it seemed as if we were only doing at last what ought to have been done long ago: since the right was with us, the Lord was with us.

'Yes,' said Mr. Hilyard, when I told him this. 'But still I say, happy the man who joins the last, when he is quite sure the Lord is with the cause, and hath proved His favour by manifesting His might. How know we

that, if Heaven intends to interfere, the time for interference hath yet arrived ?'

Thus it is with men who exhort each other to be strong, to have faith, to rejoice in right and justice, and to make poor women feel certain. Yet, when the time comes, there are so many doubts and hesitations that one looks on in amaze, and asks where faith hath gone.

No messengers had come to Blanchland, nor, we found, had any knowledge of the business reached to that place at all. We rested there one night, and the next morning I rose early, and, leaving Tom in this lonely retreat, rode across the moor with Mr. Hilyard, to Dilston, not without some misgivings of my meeting with the Earl (which were unworthy of him as well as of myself).

CHAPTER XXIII.

WHAT WILL HE DO?

WHEN last I saw Dilston it was in the dead of winter; the woods were bare of leaves, and the dark Devilstone Water poured through its narrow rocky banks in a broad stream; now the rocks were hidden with trees and brambles, alder, wych-elm, and rowan, and bright with summer flowers; while, as one stood upon the little bridge, the shrunken water was like a little thread of silver running among great mossy stones.

The courtyard of the castle was full of people-some old men and women waiting for the doles which were freely given every day; some farmers wanting to have speech with my lord; some stable-boys, grooms, and men with guns and dogs. As we went up the

steps which lead to the great hall, he came out himself and met us.

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'Why, Mr. Hilyard!' he said, laughing; my lusty Tony! how goes it with Mr. Forster ?' And here I threw back my hood and he recognised me. Dorothy!' he cried,

his kind eyes softening; 'my cousin Dorothy!' He gave me both his hands. It is four years since we met—and then-you are well and happy, cousin?'

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Quite well, my lord; and as happy as Tom's affairs will let me be.'

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Come, let me take you to the Countess.' Happiness makes young mothers beautiful. Who could be more beautiful than the woman who rose to meet me, tossing her little boy in her arms, while his saucy hands pulled and tangled her hair rolled back from her forehead ? She was small of stature, and possessed bright eyes, and such a quickness of expression as I have never since seen in any other woman. She looked at me so curiously that I perceived she knew something of what had passed between my lord and me. Then she made me sit down, took off my hood with her own hands, and gave

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