"I do not think it so," said Mr. Archer.

"And then," she resumed, "if you are to try your fortune, why not
evenly?"

"Nay," returned Mr. Archer with a smile, "no man can put complete
reliance in blind fate; he must still cog the dice."

By this time he had got upon the rock beside the upper fall, and,
bidding her look out, dropped a piece of rush into the middle of the
intake. The rusty fragment was sucked at once over the fall, came up
again far on the right hand, leaned ever more and more in the same
direction, and disappeared under the hanging grasses on the castle side.

"One," said Mr. Archer, "one for standing still."

But the next launch had a different fate, and after hanging for a while
about the edge of the stagnant water, steadily approached the
bleaching-green and danced down the rapid under Nance's eyes.

"One for me," she cried with some exultation; and then she observed that
Mr. Archer had grown pale, and was kneeling on the rock, with his hand
raised like a person petrified. "Why," said she, "you do not mind it,
do you?"

"Does a man not mind a throw of dice by which a fortune hangs?" said Mr.
Archer, rather hoarsely. "And this is more than fortune. Nance, if you
have any kindness for my fate, put up a prayer before I launch the next
one."

"A prayer," she cried, "about a game like this? I would not be so
heathen."

"Well," said he, "then without," and he closed his eyes and dropped the
piece of rush. This time there was no doubt. It went for the rapid as
straight as any arrow.

"Action then!" said Mr. Archer, getting to his feet; "and then God
forgive us," he added, almost to himself.

"God forgive us, indeed," cried Nance, "for wasting the good daylight!
But come, Mr. Archer, if I see you look so serious I shall begin to
think you was in earnest."

"Nay," he said, turning upon her suddenly, with a full smile; "but is
not this good advice? I have consulted God and demigod; the nymph of the
river, and what I far more admire and trust, my blue-eyed Minerva. Both
have said the same. My own heart was telling it already. Action, then,
be mine; and into the deep sea with all this paralysing casuistry. I am
happy to-day for the first time."

CHAPTER VIII

THE MAIL GUARD

Somewhere about two in the morning a squall had burst upon the castle, a
clap of screaming wind that made the towers rock, and a copious drift of
rain that streamed from the windows. The wind soon blew itself o