t he discover what was
baffling the sagacity of others? He had no wish to be a spy or an
informer; he had too much generous sympathy with the oppressed for
that. But he was intensely curious about it all, and he felt as
though his youth and obscurity would be his best protection if he
chose to make some investigations on his own account.

The old eager thirst for knowledge was coming upon him. The old
love of adventure, which had run him into many perils already, had
not been quenched by his recent experiences. Success had crowned
his labours in the forest; why should that success desert him now?
And then the thought came to him that he might by chance discover
something which might be of use to his own kinsmen. He knew that
Sir Richard Trevlyn and his son Philip--Petronella's lover--were in
London. Might it not be possible that they had better be elsewhere
at such a time? Jacob's words about the Trevlyns might perchance be
true. He had heard his uncle say the same before. If any possible
peril should be menacing them, how gladly would he find it out and
warn them in time! It began to appear to the youth in the light of
a duty to pursue his investigation, and it was just such a task as
best appealed to his ardent and fiery temperament.

But he scarce knew what the first step had better be; so he gave up
the day following to seeking out Lord Culverhouse, and learning
from him what was the feeling in high quarters.

Culverhouse greeted him warmly, and at once begged him to ride out
with him into the pleasant regions where the parks now stand, which
were then much larger, and only just taking any semblance of park,
being more like fields with rides running across them. Each
succeeding king did something for the improvement of this region,
though the open ground became considerably diminished as stately
buildings grew up around it.

"Cuthbert," said the Viscount, when they had left the busy streets
and were practically alone and out of earshot of any chance passers
by, "dost thou know that the matter of our secret wedding is now
known?"

"I heard so from Mistress Kate, who has been sent away from home in
disgrace, but is bearing her captivity cheerfully, with my sister
for her companion."

Culverhouse was eager to hear everything Cuthbert could tell him,
and was delighted that his lady love was happy in her honourable
captivity. When he had asked every question he could think of, he
went on with his own side of the