and attacked by his own brother-in-law, his zest for such
schemes and for all things had died out in him, and he only wished to
commend his soul to God.

That night, while the owls were hooting from the forest that encircled
the sleeping townlet, and the South-Avon was gurgling through the
wooden piles of the bridge, Sir John died there in the arms of his
wife. She concealed nothing of the cause of her husband's death save
the subject of the quarrel, which she felt it would be premature to
announce just then, and until proof of her status should be
forthcoming. But before a month had passed, it happened, to her
inexpressible sorrow, that the child of this clandestine union fell
sick and died. From that hour all interest in the name and fame of the
Horseleighs forsook the younger of the twain who called themselves
wives of Sir John, and, being careless about her own fame, she took no
steps to assert her claims, her legal position having, indeed, grown
hateful to her in her horror at the tragedy. And Sir William Byrt, the
curate who had married her to her husband, being an old man and
feeble, was not disinclined to leave the embers unstirred of such a
fiery matter as this, and to assist her in letting established things
stand. Therefore, Edith retired with the nurse, her only companion
and friend, to her native town, where she lived in absolute obscurity
till her death at no great age. Her brother was never seen again in
England.

A strangely corroborative sequel to the story remains to be told.
Shortly after the death of Sir John Horseleigh, a soldier of fortune
returned from the Continent, called on Dame Horseleigh the fictitious,
living in widowed state at Clyfton Horseleigh, and, after a singularly
brief courtship, married her. The tradition at Havenpool and elsewhere
has ever been that this man was already her husband, Decimus Strong,
who re-married her for appearance's sake only.

The illegitimate son of this lady by Sir John succeeded to the estates
and honors, and his son after him, there being nobody alert to
investigate their pretensions. Little difference would it have made to
the present generation, however, had there been such a one, for the
family in all its branches, lawful and unlawful, has been extinct
these many score years, the last representative but one being killed
at the siege of Sherton Castle, while attacking in the service of the
Parliament, and the other being outlawed later in the same centu