hat Sir William promises
come true."

Sir William! A great terror came over me when I heard that name.

"Are you then going to Sir William Carleton's?" said I.

"Yes, and how came you to know it?" said the maiden.

"Madam," said I, "pardon my boldness. Do you know who is there?"

I thought she looked offended at this, for she said, gravely:

"Sir William is my mother's kinsman. Is his house far from here?"

"Not far. I pray you let me take you so far."

"By no means," said she, "our ways lie in different directions. I have
a conductor, as you see. Will you inform him as to the way?"

I obeyed, and, further, bade the fellow look well to his mistress, and
keep his eye on a certain captain, who might be at the place to which
they went.

Then, as I assisted the maiden to mount her horse, I summoned up
courage, cost what it would, to say:

"Sir William hath a guest whom you and I saw last at Finsbury Fields. I
beseech you, maiden, let me go thither as your servant."

She bridled up proudly, yet, not unkindly.

"No," said she, "if I needed a protector, I could have none better than
you. But I need none. Farewell, and thanks, good Master Dexter. The
O'Neill's daughter will not forget that one Englishman at least never
did her harm. Adieu."

And without waiting for more, she rode forward, followed by her
attendants.

Then it seemed as if the sun had gone out of heaven. What was I, a mean
London 'prentice, to such as she? Nay, what right had I to suppose she
needed either my warning or my protection?

One thing only comforted me. Sir Ludar was still at his guardian's
house, and with him there, no harm could well befall any distressed
maiden. In my vanity I even wished he could know that in serving her he
would be serving me, his friend. Yet, I fancied, if it came to the
point, he might as soon wring the captain's neck for the maiden's sake,
as for mine.

The one thing this meeting had gained for me, was that it assured me,
however little she cared for me, she yet remembered me; and, further,
now I knew her name, and that to one in my plight was no small prize.

"If your worship be not pressed for time," said a voice, "I am; so good-
day to you."

I looked round, and there was my old acquaintance the ferryman, making
ready to put off.

This roused me, and I jumped into the boat.

This time the ill-looking Charon made no venture for my purse. Little
enough he would have found in it, had