ly towards her, the prisoners falling back to
give passage.

"Right; it has come," he said. "Trot away home and have the valises
packed, while I run into 'The Dogs' and order the chaise."

Once clear of the town, she galloped. There was little need to hurry,
for her own valise had been packed overnight.

Having sent Mudge to attend to her brother's, she ran to Narcissus'
room--his scriptorium, as he called it.

Narcissus was at home to-day, busy with the cellar accounts. He took
stock twice a year and composed a report in language worthy of a
survey of the Roman Empire. Before he could look up, Dorothea had
kissed him on the crown of his venerable head.

"Such news, dear! Endymion has ordered a chaise from 'The Dogs,' and
is going to take me to Dartmoor!"

"Dartmoor--God bless my soul!" He rubbed his head, and added with a
twinkle: "Why, what have you been doing?"

"Endymion has a cartel of exchange for M. Raoul, and we are to carry
it."

"Ah, so that is what you two have been conspiring over? I smelt a rat
somewhere. But, really, this is delightful of you--delightful of you
both. Only, why on earth should you be carrying the release yourselves,
in this weather."

"He is very ill," said Dorothea, seriously.

"Indeed? Poor fellow, poor fellow. Still, that scarcely explains--"

"And you will be good, and take your meals regularly when Mudge beats
the gong? And you won't sit up late and set fire to the house? But I
must run off and tell everyone to take care of you."

She kissed him again, and was half-way down the corridor before he
called after her:

"Dorothea, Dorothea! the drawings!"

"Ah, to be sure; I forgot," she murmured, as he thrust the parcel into
her hand.

"Forgot? Forgot the drawings? But, God bless my soul!--"

He passed his hand over his grey hairs and stared down the corridor
after her.

The roads were heavy to start, with, and beyond Chard they grew
heavier. At Honiton, which our travellers reached at midnight, it was
snowing; and Dorothea, when the sleepy chamber-maid aroused her at
dawn, looked out upon a forbidding world of white. The postboys were
growling, and she half feared that Endymion would abandon the journey
for the day. But if he lacked her zeal, he had the true Englishman's
hatred of turning back. She, who had known him always for a master of
men, learned a new awe of her splendid brother. He took command; he
cross-examined landlord and postboys, pooh-poohed their obje