count moved on, uttering private chuckles as numerous as a
woodpecker's taps, and Ethelberta with him. She walked as by a miracle,
but she would walk. She would have died rather than not have walked
then.

She perceived now that they were somewhere in Enckworth wood. As they
went, she noticed a faint shine upon the ground on the other side of the
viscount, which showed her that they were walking beside a wet ditch. She
remembered having seen it in the morning: it was a shallow ditch of mud.
She might push him in, and run, and so escape before he could extricate
himself. It would not hurt him. It was her last chance. She waited a
moment for the opportunity.

'We are one to one, and I am the stronger!' she at last exclaimed
triumphantly, and lifted her hand for a thrust.

'On the contrary, darling, we are one to half-a-dozen, and you
considerably the weaker,' he tenderly replied, stepping back adroitly,
and blowing a whistle. At once the bushes seemed to be animated in four
or five places.

'John?' he said, in the direction of one of them.

'Yes, my lord,' replied a voice from the bush, and a keeper came forward.

'William?'

Another man advanced from another bush.

'Quite right. Remain where you are for the present. Is Tomkins there?'

'Yes, my lord,' said a man from another part of the thicket.

'You go and keep watch by the further lodge: there are poachers about.
Where is Strongway?'

'Just below, my lord.'

'Tell him and his brother to go to the west gate, and walk up and down.
Let them search round it, among the trees inside. Anybody there who
cannot give a good account of himself to be brought before me to-morrow
morning. I am living at the cottage at present. That's all I have to
say to you.' And, turning round to Ethelberta: 'Now, dearest, we will
walk a little further if you are able. I have provided that your friends
shall be taken care of.' He tried to pull her hand towards him, gently,
like a cat opening a door.

They walked a little onward, and Lord Mountclere spoke again, with
imperturbable good-humour:

'I will tell you a story, to pass the time away. I have learnt the art
from you--your mantle has fallen upon me, and all your inspiration with
it. Listen, dearest. I saw a young man come to the house to-day.
Afterwards I saw him cross a passage in your company. You entered the
ball-room with him. That room is a treacherous place. It is panelled
with wood, and between