to her by the traitor Jeromio. She returned with us
after nightfall to this horrid place; and has ever since watched my poor
child with the earnestness and care of a most devoted sister. I am
astonished how she escaped Sir Willmott's vengeance. He was so hemmed in
by difficulties, that he had no power to act, though he tried hard for
it. The villain Jeromio----"

"I heard of that," interrupted Robin; "Roupall told me all: he met me
but a little time past in the Fox Glen; and there, too, I saw the
traitor's head, with the ravens feasting on their prey!"

"Ah! ah!" exclaimed Dalton, "is that the way Sir Willmott treats his
wedding present! The Fox Glen is beneath his chamber window; so I
suppose he cantered it out to find its own grave in the grassy hollow."

"Is this Barbara's father!" thought Robin, "and the man who would not
kill a cub-whale?--How wonderful! how strange his modifications of
feeling: the older he grows, the more incomprehensible he becomes."

Robin then detailed the particulars of his journey since he left the
Gull's Nest, which, as we are already acquainted with them, need not be
repeated here, and raised himself considerably in the Buccaneer's
estimation by his attention, shrewdness, and, above all, by the account
he gave of his interview with Cromwell.

"I believe it, Rob, I believe it--I am sure you would not betray me! But
I fear we must abandon this place--this and all others of a similar
description. I knew that as soon as internal commotions ceased, old Noll
would root us out. He will set Burrell on the trail, if he can get no
other informer; for he has never been too great not to make use of
filthy tools to effect his purpose. He had been here long ago but that
he dislikes to employ such troops as he has trained in hunting up moles
and water-rats. Yet he thinks it a disgrace to his policy not to know
all things, even the hiding-holes along the coast. There's good nesting
in the Cornish cliffs; but I have done with it, pardon or no pardon. Sir
Robert Cecil's gone mad, and I have a game to play there still. What
you tell me of Walter is most strange; yet I feel certain he is safe,
and my course, in reference to him, must be guided by the events that a
very few hours will doubtless produce. Cromwell--Roundhead and rebel as
he is--unless he be marvellously changed--has generosity enough to
guarantee the youth's safety, were he a thousand times more dangerous
than he can be. Whatever may be my