absence. He knew enough of what was going on in the world to
realize the bare possibility that his brother's early Parliamentarian
campaign might bring him into difficulties even yet. It seemed certain
that the lord of Wythburn Manor would be executed. Only Ralph's
obscurity could save him.

When Willy got back into the kitchen, the impression that Ralph was
being pursued and dogged was written on his face. His mother
understood no more of his trouble than that his brother had not
returned; she looked from his face back to the fire, that now died
slowly on the hearth. Rotha was quicker to catch the significance of
Willy's nervous expression and fitful words. To her the situation now
appeared hardly less than tragic. With the old father lying dead in
the loft above, what would come to this household if the one strong
hand in it was removed? Then she thought of her own father. What would
become of him? Where was he this night? The sense of impending
disaster gave strength to her, however. She rose and put her hand on
Willy's arm as he walked to and fro across the earthen floor. She was
the more drawn to him from some scarce explicable sense of his
weakness.

"Some one coming now," he said in eager tones--his ears were awake
with a feverish sensitiveness--"some one at the back." It was Ralph at
last. He had come down the side of the ghyll, and had entered the
house from behind. All breathed freely.

"God bless thee!" said Mrs. Ray.

"You've been anxious. It was bad to keep you so," he said, with an
obvious effort to assume his ordinary manner.

"I reckon thou couldst not have helped it, my lad," said Mrs. Ray.
Relieved and cheerful, she was bustling about to get Ralph's supper on
the table.

"Well, no," he answered. "You know, I've been over to Gosforth--it's a
long ride--I borrowed Jackson's pony from Armboth; and what a wild
country it is, to be sure! It blew a gale on Stye Head. It's bleak
enough up there on a day like this, mother. I could scarce hold the
horse."

"I don't wonder, Ralph; but see, here's thy poddish--thou must be fair
clemm'd."

"No, no; I called at Broom Hill."

"How did you come in at the back, lad? Do you not come up the lonnin?"

"I thought I'd go round by the low meadow and see all safe, and then
the nearest way home was on the hill side, you know."

Willy and Rotha glanced simultaneously at Ralph as he said this, but
they found nothing in his face, voice, or manner to indicate that