eading tones,
she continued: "Didst not agree to trust thy lady, dear?"

The young knight passed his hand over his eyes and straightened himself
resolutely in his saddle.

"E'en to the death, love. Lead on! I shall not falter!"

They trotted forward through a now silent street to the bridge, and soon
found themselves enveloped in the darkness and assailed by the countless
odors of London Bridge. From time to time they crossed a path of
moonlight, and here Phoebe would smile into the eyes of her still
much-puzzled lover and murmur words of encouragement.

Before they reached Southwark, there rang out behind them the sound of
hoofs upon the stones of the bridge.

"Can these be your father's minions, think you?" said Sir Guy.

"Nay!" Phoebe exclaimed. "Rest assured, they were scattered too far to
dog our steps again to-night."

They emerged some moments later on the Southwark side and saw the
pillory towering ahead of them.

"How far shall we fare to-night, love?" asked the knight.

"To Newington on horseback," Phoebe replied, "and then--well, then
shalt thou see more faring."

There was a loud cry from the bridge, startling the pair from their
fancied security.

"There they ride! The watch, ho! Stop the traitor! Stop him! For the
Queen! For the Queen!"

"God help us!" cried Phoebe. "'Tis the two yeomen of the Peacock Inn!"

With one accord the pair clapped spurs to their horses' sides and
resumed once more the flight which they had thought concluded.

CHAPTER XVII

REBECCA'S TRUMP CARD

When Rebecca set out for the Panchronicon from London Bridge, she knew
that she had a long walk in prospect, and settled down to the work with
dogged resolution. Her trip was quite uneventful until she neared the
village of Newington, and then she realized for the first time that she
did not know exactly where to find the deserted grove. One grove looked
much like another, and how was she to choose between garden walls "as
like as two peas," as she expressed it?

"Look here, Rebecca Wise," she said, aloud, as she paused in the middle
of the road, "you'll be lost next you know!"

She looked about dubiously and shook her head.

"The thing fer you to do is to set right down an' wait fer that pesky
good-fer-nothin' Copernicus Droop!" she remarked, and suiting action to
speech she picked her way to a convenient mile-stone and seated herself.

Having nothing better to do, she began to review mentally the events o