parations are complete."

"Be ready, then, in your chamber, at two hours after midnight. I will
send one to summon you, for our secret must be communicated, for the
present, to as few as possible. A foreign sloop is engaged to carry you
over; then make the best of your way to London, by Martindale Castle, or
otherwise, as you find most advisable. When it is necessary to
announce your absence, I will say you are gone to see your parents. But
stay--your journey will be on horseback, of course, from Whitehaven.
You have bills of exchange, it is true; but are you provided with ready
money to furnish yourself with a good horse?"

"I am sufficiently rich, madam," answered Julian; "and good nags are
plenty in Cumberland. There are those among them who know how to come by
them good and cheap."

"Trust not to that," said the Countess. "Here is what will purchase for
you the best horse on the Borders.--Can you be simple enough to refuse
it?" she added, as she pressed on him a heavy purse, which he saw
himself obliged to accept.

"A good horse, Julian," continued the Countess, "and a good sword, next
to a good heart and head, are the accomplishments of a cavalier."

"I kiss your hands, then, madam," said Peveril, "and humbly beg you to
believe, that whatever may fail in my present undertaking, my purpose
to serve you, my noble kinswoman and benefactress, can at least never
swerve or falter."

"I know it, my son, I know it; and may God forgive me if my anxiety
for your friend has sent you on dangers which should have been his!
Go--go--May saints and angels bless you! Fenella shall acquaint him that
you sup in your own apartment. So indeed will I; for to-night I should
be unable to face my son's looks. Little will he thank me for sending
you on his errand; and there will be many to ask, whether it was like
the Lady of Latham to trust her friend's son on the danger which should
have been braved by her own. But oh! Julian, I am now a forlorn widow,
whom sorrow has made selfish!"

"Tush, madam," answered Peveril; "it is more unlike the Lady of Latham
to anticipate dangers which may not exist at all, and to which, if
they do indeed occur, I am less obnoxious than my noble kinsman.
Farewell!--All blessings attend you, madam. Commend me to Derby,
and make him my excuses. I shall expect a summons at two hours after
midnight."

They took an affectionate leave of each other; the more affectionate,
indeed, on the part of the Countes