nce the keeper.

"When this is accomplished give the letter unto Sir Walter. He will
then know how to follow its directions.

"When ye are once out (if Heaven doth so far favour ye) come with all
haste unto the Sanctuary, where the Lady Hazel shall be in readiness."

Whilst Harleston had been thus giving Michael his instructions they
both had been arming each other in haste. They were now fully ready;
so Michael went to prepare the horses. Frederick then followed Michael
to the stables, and in a short time they were ready to set out.

"Do thou go first, Michael, and have a great care that thou dost follow
closely the instructions that I gave thee. Pray God that thou dost
succeed," and he gripped Michael's giant hand with a force that assured
him, had he not already been aware of it, of his sincerity.

"Oi'll remimber, sor, and do as thou hast said. And be sure of this,
yer honour; if the order be but a trap, moure than wan man now aloive
and will shall see Gawd, or the divil, afore they take Moichael a
prisoner." With this he was off, and Harleston stood for some moments
gazing after the gigantic monument of honesty as he gradually faded
from view and was swallowed up in the darkness. Then he himself
mounted and started on his mission.

He had not, however, left the courtyard when he met a horseman, which
called out to him as they passed each other:--"'Tis late for thee to be
riding forth upon a journey, Sir Frederick. And besides, the road is
dark to travel thus, alone." It was Catesby.

"Thanks for thy kindly warning," returned Frederick; "but I have but a
short distance to travel, and the way, methinks, is safe." He then
rode on; but for a few rods only; for here his horse stopped of its own
accord.

As the noise of the horse's hoofs ceased suddenly, Frederick distinctly
heard a low laugh come from out of the darkness, and in the direction
where last he had seen Catesby.

"I fear Michael shall not return," thought Frederick, as he again
proceeded on his way.

[1] Rous, the historian, states that these lines were written by Lord
Rivers, during that unfortunate nobleman's imprisonment at Pomfret.
K.M.

CHAPTER XXV

MICHAEL AND I

The key rattled in the lock, and I heard my jailer's voice:--

"This is the place. Best let me go in first; for he's as ugly as the
devil, and may guzzle thee, a stranger, unless I tell him you're
coming. Though methinks he'd soon drop thee, when he foun