ked the latter when he saw his chief.

"Thou hast been too harsh and hasty, my son. The meanest man will turn
to bay if his dignity is wounded too sorely. We have found Master
Windybank weak and pliable, and we have been too contemptuous of his
manhood. He hath a little, and that last blow of thine has aroused it."

Basil fell on his knees in contrition. "Forgive me!" he murmured.

Jerome raised him up and gave him a perfunctory kiss on the forehead.

"We can forgive faults that arise from excess of zeal," he replied,
"and we must have patience with the weak-kneed; a time will come when
we shall be able to visit their sins upon them. At present we must
play the loving friend; we can be the merciless judge at the opportune
moment. Get thee to Gatcombe, my son. Watch the admiral well, and
send the messenger thou wottest of down to Chepstow to learn if there
be any tidings of our friends from Ireland. The time for action is
fully come; the foresters are lulled again to security; we must strike
as speedily as possible. I shall expect thee at midnight to-morrow.
Meantime I will bring back our host to a sense of his duty and
religion."

Basil bent one knee to receive his superior's blessing. "Benedicite!"
murmured Jerome.

His subordinate seized his hand and pressed it to his lips. "I am
forgiven, father?" he asked.

"Forgiven and blessed," answered Jerome. "Go! and the Holy Virgin
watch over thee."

Basil pulled his hood over his face, opened a small oak door whose
hinges had been generously oiled, and disappeared amongst the trees.
Jerome went back to Windybank.

Chapter XI.

DARKNESS AND THE RIVER.

The hunt and its incidents were three days old.

Johnnie Morgan had been to Newnham, and had spent a whole afternoon in
Dorothy's company. Not once had she snubbed him or even contradicted
him. Johnnie was home again, quietly happy. There was a battle of wit
and song fixed for the night at the local tavern; several "jolly dogs"
had waylaid the young farmer and tried to drag him off for an evening's
revelry, but he would have none of it. The sun was going down over the
hills, and Johnnie sat in his parlour and watched it. His chair was
tilted back against the heavy table, and his feet were on the
window-ledge half shrouded in flowers. He stared at the rosy sky and
dreamed dreams of the same colour.

Johnnie heard quick footsteps coming up to the porch, and immediately
afterwards there was