r you, Thomas,' he answered; 'and a man may do what he wills with
his own. Still I will help you if I can, at the least he cannot drive me
from his door. Bid them bring horses, and we will ride to the Hall.'

Within the half of an hour we were there, and my father asked for speech
with its master. The serving man looked at me askance, remembering his
orders, still he ushered us into the justice room where the Squire sat
drinking ale.

'Good morrow to you, neighbour,' said the Squire; 'you are welcome here,
but you bring one with you who is not welcome, though he be your son.'

'I bring him for the last time, friend Bozard. Listen to his request,
then grant it or refuse it as you will; but if you refuse it, it will
not bind us closer. The lad rides to-night to take ship for Spain to
seek that man who murdered his mother. He goes of his own free will
because after the doing of the deed it was he who unwittingly suffered
the murderer to escape, and it is well that he should go.'

'He is a young hound to run such a quarry to earth, and in a strange
country,' said the Squire. 'Still I like his spirit and wish him well.
What would he of me?'

'Leave to bid farewell to your daughter. I know that his suit does not
please you and cannot wonder at it, and for my own part I think it too
early for him to set his fancy in the way of marriage. But if he would
see the maid it can do no harm, for such harm as there is has been done
already. Now for your answer.'

Squire Bozard thought a while, then said:

'The lad is a brave lad though he shall be no son-in-law of mine. He
is going far, and mayhap will return no more, and I do not wish that
he should think unkindly of me when I am dead. Go without, Thomas
Wingfield, and stand under yonder beech--Lily shall join you there and
you may speak with her for the half of an hour--no more. See to it that
you keep within sight of the window. Nay, no thanks; go before I change
my mind.'

So I went and waited under the beech with a beating heart, and presently
Lily glided up to me, a more welcome sight to my eyes than any angel out
of heaven. And, indeed, I doubt if an angel could have been more fair
than she, or more good and gentle.

'Oh! Thomas,' she whispered, when I had greeted her, 'is this true that
you sail oversea to seek the Spaniard?'

'I sail to seek the Spaniard, and to find him and to kill him when he
is found. It was to come to you, Lily, that I let him go, now I must let