s this I should have liked for Barbara," she said aloud,
sighing heavily as the words escaped her lips.

"She will not need it," replied a voice from under an old archway, close
beside where she sat.

Lady Frances started.

"Will you tell your friend, Mistress Cecil," continued the same
voice--Lady Frances could not see the speaker, although, as may be
readily believed, she looked around her with an anxiety not divested of
terror--"Will you tell your friend, Mistress Cecil, that old Mother
Hays, of the Gull's Nest Crag, is dying, and that she has something to
communicate which it concerns her to know, and that the sooner she comes
to the Gull's Nest the better; for the woman's spirit is only waiting to
tell her secret, and go forth."

"Methinks," replied Lady Frances, "that her own child--I know she has
one--would be a fitter depositary for her secret than a lady of gentle
blood. But why come ye not forth? I hate all jugglery."

"Her own child, Robin, is away, the Lord knows where; and those who are
not of gentle blood are as eager after secrets as other folk. Your
father has had rare hunting after the Cavaliers and their secrets,
though his blood has more beer than Rhenish in it, to my thinking."

Lady Frances stamped her little foot with rage at the insult, and
called, in no gentle tone, "Maud! Maud!" then raising her voice, which
she imagined could be heard below, as the garden of Cecil Place joined
the ruins of Minster, she shouted, in a way that would have done no
discredit to any officer in the Commonwealth service, "Below
there!--turn out the guard, and encircle the ruins!"

"Turn out the guard, and encircle the ruins!" mimicked the voice, which
was evidently receding; "the little Roundhead's in a passion!--'Turn out
the guard!' ah! ah! ah!" and the laugh appeared to die away beneath her
feet.

Maud had hastened down right joyfully at the summons, and stood beside
her mistress, whose temper had by no means cooled at the term
"Roundhead," as applied to herself; and broke forth in good earnest,
when noting a smile that elongated her woman's lip, as she said,--

"Law! daisy me, my lady! I thought you were run away with, seeing I have
just seen two ravens come out o' the glen--the Fox-glen, as we call it."

"Run away with!" repeated Lady Frances, bridling; "have the goodness to
remember to whom it is you speak--woman--Here has been a--a--voice--Why
turns not out that coward guard? we are too long peaceful,