. No light burned in any window. The inmates of the
building were doubtless wrapped in sleep. He well knew his sister's
window, and cutting himself a long hazel bough, he gently swept it
to and fro across the glass. This had always been a signal between
them in their childhood, and many had been their nocturnal rambles
taken together when Cuthbert had contrived to escape from the house
before it was locked up, and had then called Petronella and
assisted her down by the tangled ivy that clung to the gray old
walls. He knew she would recognize in a moment who was outside when
she heard the tapping of that hazel wand; and it seemed indeed as
if she did, for in a moment the window was opened, and a soft
tremulous voice asked eagerly:

"Cuthbert, can it be thou?"

"It is indeed I, sweet sister. Canst thou come to me? Hast thou
lost thy cunning or thy lightness of foot? I am here to help thee."

"I will come to thee anon; but the little postern door is seldom
locked since thou art gone, and I can get out thus. Linger not
beside the house, Cuthbert; speed to the chantry--I will meet thee
there. He might hear or see thee here. Do not linger; go. I will be
with thee anon; I will not keep thee but a few short minutes. But
do not tarry; go!"

There was such earnestness in her soft whispers that Cuthbert did
not attempt to reply save by a brief nod. He slid away in the
darkness and took the familiar but now tangled path to the chantry,
looking round the old ruin with loving eyes; for it was the one
spot connected with his home not fraught with memories of pain and
fear.

"Poor little timid Petronella!" he mused. "Was I right to leave her
thus alone with our harsh father? Yet I could do nothing for her;
and it seemed as though my presence in the house stirred him up to
continual fury. I would I had a home to bring her to. I would I
might carry her off with me now. But what could she do in the
forest, away from the haunts of men? Nay, she must tarry here but a
little while. Then will I come and claim her. Then will she have
dowry worthy her name and state. Oh that lost treasure, that lost
treasure! what happiness will there be in store for very many when
that lost treasure is found!"

And then he paused and held out his arms, for light steps were
speeding towards him through the dewy grass, and Petronella, with a
little sobbing cry, flung herself upon him, to be enfolded in a
strong embrace.

Chapter 15: Petronella.