and of the Reformed faith to take care of
her and it. His only fear was of its falling into the hands of the
Papists, which thing would have been abhorrent to the grand sire
whose legacy the money was. That fear laid to rest, he would be
glad to be rid of the charge, and to give over the gold to its
rightful owner.

Philip's heart was with Petronella, and he had not concerned
himself as yet with any thoughts as to her poverty and his own
somewhat impecunious position as his father's heir, but with three
sisters to be provided for out of the revenues of the impoverished
estate. He was man of the world enough to know that this dowry
would do much to smooth his path when the time should come for
making known his case to his parents, but for the moment his
thoughts were all with the lonely girl shut up so relentlessly by
her father.

"I will see Nicholas Trevlyn," he said, with stern decision.
"Things have gone too far not to go further. I will see him, and
make formal application for his daughter's hand. He can but refuse
me, and I shall tell him plainly that I decline to give her up at
any word of his. I can wait with patience till she is of age to
judge for herself; but she is the woman of my choice, and her alone
will I wed if she will have me."

Cuthbert's face was grave and troubled.

"And waiting for that, she may well be done to death within those
walls, as I should have been had I not fled. I am in trouble of
heart anent my sister. I pray she may find her way to me yet in the
free forest!"

Philip started and looked surprised.

"Is there likelihood of that?"

"I know not. I bid her come if our father should grow more harsh,
and told her where I likeliest might be found. I purpose to dwell
for a while myself in the forest, albeit thou wouldst mock me if
thou knewest the wherefore."

"To search for the lost treasure, I doubt not," said Philip with a
smile, remembering the talk of the autumn previous. "Marry thou
hast my best wishes for a happy quest. But what couldst thou do
with a tender maid out in the woods with thee?"

"I scarce know that myself; but anything would be better than life
with a madman--as I trow our father is like to become an he change
not his habit of life. Belike I would take her to mine uncle on the
bridge; yet perchance he would not thank me for adding to his
charges.

"If we had other relatives--"

"Why, and so ye have, even as we have. Hast never heard of my Lady
Humbert and