e got rid of him had not Darrell at that moment entered the
room. To my surprise, the two seemed to know one another, for Darrell
broke into a scornful laugh, exclaiming:

"Again, Master Tate! What, haven't you left this accursed city to its
fate yet?"

"It awaits its fate," answered the Ranter sternly, "even as those of
your superstition wait theirs."

"My superstition must look out for itself," said Darrell, with a shrug;
and, seeing that I was puzzled, he added, "Mr Tate is not pleased with
me because I am of the old religion."

"Indeed?" I cried. "I didn't know you were a--of the old church." For I
remembered with confusion a careless remark that I had let fall as we
journeyed together.

"Yes," said he simply.

"Yes!" cried Tate. "You--and your master also, is he not?"

Darrell's face grew stern and cold.

"I would have you careful, sir, when you touch on my Lord Arlington's
name," he said. "You know well that he is not of the Roman faith, but is
a convinced adherent of the Church of this country."

"Is he so?" asked Tate, with an undisguised sneer.

"Come, enough!" cried Darrell in sudden anger. "I have much to say to my
friend, and shall be glad to be left alone with him."

Tate made no objection to leaving us, and, gathering up his Bible, went
out scowling.

"A pestilent fellow," said Darrell. "He'll find himself laid by the
heels before long. Well, I have settled your affair with my Lord
Carford."

But my affair with Carford was not what I wanted to hear about. I came
to him as he sat down at the table, and, laying my hand on his shoulder,
asked simply,

"Is it true?"

He looked up at me with great kindness, and answered gently,

"It is true. I guessed it as soon as you spoke of Cydaria. For Cydaria
was the part in which she first gained the favour of the town, and that,
taken with your description of her, gave me no room for doubt. Yet I
hoped that it might not be as I feared, or, at least, that the thing
could be hidden. It seems, though, that the saucy wench has made no
secret of it. Thus you are landed in this quarrel, and with a good
swordsman."

"I care nothing for the quarrel----" I began.

"Nay, but it is worse than you think. For Lord Carford is the gentleman
of whom I spoke, when I told you that Mistress Quinton had a noble
suitor. And he is high in her favour and higher yet in her father's. A
quarrel with him, and on such a cause, will do you no good in Lord
Quinton's eyes."