the road that ran to the minister's house. Audrey spoke
earnestly to the master of Fair View, and after a moment's hesitation he
drew rein. "We will not cross, Colonel," he declared. "My preserver will
have it that she has troubled us long enough; and indeed it is no great
distance to the glebe house, and the rain has stopped. Have down with
thee, then, obstinate one!"

Audrey slipped to the earth, and pushed back her hair from her eyes.
Colonel Byrd observed her curiously. "Faith," he exclaimed, "'tis the
Atalanta of last May Day! Well, child, I believe thou hast saved our
lives. Come, here are three gold baubles that may pass for Hippomenes'
apples!"

Audrey put her hands behind her. "I want no money, sir. What I did was a
gift; it has no price." She was only Darden's Audrey, but she spoke as
proudly as a princess might have spoken. Haward smiled to hear her; and
seeing the smile, she was comforted. "For he understands," she said to
herself. "He would never hurt me so." It did not wound her that he said no
word, but only lifted his hat, when she curtsied to them both. There was
to-morrow, and he would praise her then for her quickness of wit and her
courage in following Hugon, whom she feared so much.

The riders watched her cross the bridge and turn into the road that led to
the glebe house, then kept their own road in silence until it brought them
to the doors of Fair View.

It was an hour later, and drawing toward dusk, when the Colonel, having
changed his wet riding clothes for a suit of his friend's, came down the
stairs and entered the Fair View drawing-room. Haward, in green, with rich
lace at throat and wrist, was there before him, walking up and down in the
cheerful light of a fire kindled against the dampness. "No sign of our
men," he said, as the other entered. "Come to the fire. Faith, Colonel, my
russet and gold becomes you mightily! Juba took you the aqua vitae?"

"Ay, in one of your great silver goblets, with a forest of mint atop. Ha,
this is comfort!" He sank into an armchair, stretched his legs before the
blaze, and began to look about him. "I have ever said, Haward, that of
all the gentlemen of my acquaintance you have the most exact taste. I told
Bubb Dodington as much, last year, at Eastbury. Damask, mirrors,
paintings, china, cabinets,--all chaste and quiet, extremely elegant, but
without ostentation! It hath an air, too. I would swear a woman had the
placing of yonder painted jars!"

"You