e disadvantage, if he evened himself with some of my
reasonable countrymen."

"Do you mean that for an insult, sir?" exclaimed Sedley Archfield,
striding forward.

"As you please," said Peregrine. "To me it had the sound of
compliment."

"Oh la! they'll fight," cried Mrs. Archfield. "Don't let them!
Where's the Doctor? Where's Sir Philip?"

"Hush, my dear," said Lady Archfield; "these gentlemen would not
fall out close to us."

Dr. Woodford was out of sight, having been drawn into controversy
with a fellow-clergyman on the limits of toleration. Anne looked
anxiously for him, but with provoking coolness Peregrine presently
said, "There's no crowd near, and if you will step out, the fires on
the farther hills are to be seen well from the knoll hard by."

He spoke chiefly to Anne, but even if she had not a kind of
shrinking from trusting herself with him in this strange wild scene,
she would have been prevented by Mrs. Archfield's eager cry--

"Oh, I'll come, let me come! I'm so weary of sitting here. Thank
you, Master Oakshott."

Lady Archfield's remonstrance was lost as Peregrine helped the
little lady out, and there was nothing for it but to follow her, as
close as might be, as she hung on her cavalier's arm chattering, and
now and then giving little screams of delight or alarm. Lady
Archfield and her daughter each was instantly squired, but Mistress
Woodford, a nobody, was left to keep as near them as she could, and
gaze at the sparks of light of the beacons in the distance, thinking
how changed the morrow would be to her.

Presently a figure approached, and Charles Archfield's voice said,
"Is that you, Anne? Did I hear my wife's voice?"

"Yes, she is there."

"And with that imp of evil! I would his own folk had him!" muttered
Charles, dashing forward with "How now, madam? you were not to leave
the coach!"

She laughed exultingly. "Ha, sir! see what comes of leaving me to
better cavaliers, while you run after your fire! I should have seen
nothing but for Master Oakshott."

"Come with me now," said Charles; "you ought not to be standing here
in the dew."

"Ha, ha! what a jealous master," she said; but she put her arm into
his, saying with a courtesy, "Thank you, Master Oakshott, lords must
be obeyed. I should have been still buried in the old coach but for
you."

Peregrine fell back to Anne. "That blaze is at St. Helen's," he
began. "That--what! will you not wait a moment?"

"No, no