him, but he caught at her habit.

"My lady," he pleaded, "for God's sweet sake be merciful and deny it.
Tell me I dreamed--say that my eyes saw falsely, tell me so in mercy
and I'll believe."

"No!" she said dully, "No! Were I to swear this on my knees yet deep
within your heart this evil doubt would still rear its head----"

"Nay, nay--I vow--I swear!"

"You have been so swift to spy out evil in me from the first," she went
on in the same passionless voice, "first you thought me a wild hoyden,
then unvirginal, now--now, a sly wanton! So will I make your evil
thoughts so many whips to scourge you for all your cruel doubt of me!"

Saying which, she broke from him and crossing the orchard on flying
feet reached the ladder set for her there by the Sergeant's willing
hands, she mounted, then paused to glance back over her shoulder but
seeing how the Major remained meekly where she had left him, his head
bowed humbly between clasping hands, she frowned, bit her lip, then
gathering up the voluminous folds of her riding-habit climbed back very
dexterously over the wall, frowned at him again, shook her head at him
and vanished.

But then--ah then, being hid from all chance of observation she leaned
smooth cheek against the unfeeling bricks and mortar of that old
weather-beaten wall and fell to a silent passion of grief.

"O John!" she whispered, "O foolish, blundering, cruel John dear--I
wonder if you'll ever know--how much I yearned--to kiss your dear, sad,
tired eyes!"

Then, drying her tears, she lifted proud head and walked with much
dignified composure into the house.

CHAPTER XXII

WHICH RELATES HOW SERGEANT ZEBEDEE TRING QUELLED SCANDAL WITH A
PEWTER-POT

The tap-room of the ancient "George and Dragon" Inn is a long, low,
irregular chamber full of odd and unexpected corners in one of which,
towards the hour of three, sat Sergeant Zebedee Tring as was his wont
so to do. A large tankard of foaming Kentish ale stood before him from
which he regaled himself ever and anon the while he perused a somewhat
crumpled and ragged news-sheet. But to-day, as the Sergeant
alternately sipped and read he paused very often to frown across the
length of the room towards a noisy group at the farther end; a
boisterous company, whose fine clothes and smart liveries proclaimed
their gilded servitude and who lounged, yawned, snuffed, sipped their
wine or spirits and lisped polite oaths and fashionable scandal all
with