ined, and still no sign of his return, he walked every now and then
to the door, and looked anxiously along the road by which he expected
his approach. Sybella, too, was not without her fears, and though vague
and undefined, she dreaded a possible collision between the hot-blood of
Mark and her brother. The evening of her first arrival was ever present
to her mind; and she often thought of what might have then occurred, had
Frederic been present.

They had wearied themselves with every mode of accounting for his delay,
guessed at every possible cause of detention, and were at length on the
point of sending a messenger in search of him, when they heard the tramp
of a horse coming, not along the high road, but, as it seemed, over the
fields in front of them. A few minutes more of anxious expectancy, and
Frederic, with his horse splashed and panting, alighted beside them.

"Well, you certainly have a very pretty eye for a country, father," said
he, gaily. "That same line you advised, has got three as rasping fences
as I should like to meet with."

"What do you mean, boy?" said Sir Marmaduke, as much puzzled at the
speech as the reader himself may feel.

"Simply, sir, that though the cob is a capital horse, and has a great
jump in him, that I'd rather have day-light for that kind of thing; and
I really believe the ragged fellow you sent for me, chose the
stiffest places. I saw the rascal grinning when I was coming up to the
mill-stream."

"Messenger!--ragged fellow! The boy is dreaming."

"My dear Frederic, we sent no messenger. We were, indeed, very anxious
at your delay, but we did not despatch any one to meet you."

Frederic stared at both the speakers, and then repeated, in
astonishment, the last words--"Sent no messenger!" but when they once
more assured him of the fact, he gave the following account of his
return:---

"It was very late when I left the castle. I delayed there the whole day;
but scarcely had I reached the high-road, when a wild-looking fellow,
with a great pole in his hand, came up to me, and cried out,

"'Are you for the Lodge?' 'Yes,' said he, answering himself, 'you are
her brother. I'm sent over to tell you, not to go back by the road, for
the bridge is down; but you're to come over the fields, and I'll show
you the way.'"

"Supposing the fellow was what he assumed to be--your messenger, I
followed him; and, by George, it was no joking matter; for he leaped
like a deer, and seemed to tak