et, but her next attempt to leave him
caused an entreaty that she would remain, nor could she quit him
till the dawn, happily very early, was dispelling the terrors of the
night, and then, when he had himself murmured once--

"Let no ill dreams disturb my rest,
No powers of darkness me molest,"

he fell asleep at last, with a softer look on his pinched face.
Poor boy, would that verse be his first step to prayer and
deliverance from his own too real enemy?

CHAPTER VII: THE ENVOY

"I then did ask of her, her changeling child."

Midsummer Night's Dream.

Mrs. Woodford was too good a housewife to allow herself any extra
rest on account of her vigil, and she had just put her Juneating
apple-tart into the oven when Anne rushed into the kitchen with the
warning that there was a grand gentleman getting off his horse at
the gateway, and speaking to her uncle--she thought it must be
Peregrine's uncle.

Mrs. Woodford was of the same opinion, and asked where Peregrine
was.

"Fast asleep in the window-seat of the parlour, mother! I did not
waken him, for he looked so tired."

"That was right, my little maiden," said Mrs. Woodford, hastily
washing her hands, taking off her cooking apron, letting down her
black gown from its pocket holes, and arranging her veil-like
widow's coif, after which, in full trim for company, she sallied out
to the front door, to avert, if possible, the wakening of the boy,
whom she wished to appear to the best advantage.

She met in the garden her brother-in-law, and Sir Peregrine
Oakshott, on being presented to her, made such a bow as had seldom
been seen in those parts, as he politely said that he was the bearer
of his brother's thanks for her care of his nephew.

Mrs. Woodford explained that the boy had had so bad a night that it
would be well not to break his present sleep, and invited the guest
to walk in the garden or sit in the Doctor's study or in the shade
of the castle wall.

This last was what he preferred, and there they seated themselves,
with a green slope before them down to the pale gray creek, and the
hill beyond lying in the summer sunshine.

"I have been long in coming hither," said the knight, "partly on
account of letters on affairs of State, and partly likewise because
I desired to come alone, thinking that I might better understand how
it is with the lad without the presence of his father or brothers."

"I am very glad you have so done, sir."

"Then, mada