was just
disappearing beneath the horizon. The victory was won!

But Guy's feeling was not the rejoicing of the conquest, it was more the
relief which is felt by a little child, weary of its fit of naughtiness,
when its tearful face is raised, mournful yet happy, in having won true
repentance, and it says, 'I _am_ sorry now.'

He rose, looked at his watch, wondered to find it so late; gazed round,
and considered his bearings, perceiving, with a sense of shame, how far
he had wandered; then retraced his steps slowly and wearily, and did not
reach South Moor till long after dark.

CHAPTER 17

My blood hath been too cold and temperate,
Unapt to stir at these indignities;
But you have found me.
--KING HENRY IV

Philip, according to promise, appeared at Hollywell, and a volume of
awful justice seemed written on his brow. Charles, though ignorant of
its cause, perceived this at a glance, and greeted him thus:--

'Enter Don Philip II, the Duke of Alva, alguazils, corregidors, and
executioners.'

'Is anything the matter, Philip?' said Amy; a question which took him
by surprise, as he could not believe her in ignorance. He was sorry for
her, and answered gravely,--

'Nothing is amiss with me, thank you, Amy,'

She knew he meant that he would tell no more, and would have thought no
more about it, but that she saw her mother was very uneasy.

'Did you ask whether there were any letters at the post?' said Charles.
'Guy is using us shamefully--practising self-denial on us, I suppose. Is
there no letter from him?'

'There is,' said Philip, reluctantly.

'Well, where is it?'

'It is to your father.'

'Oh!' said Charles, with a disappointed air. 'Are you sure? Depend on
it, you overlooked my M. He has owed me a letter this fortnight. Let me
see.'

'It is for my uncle,' repeated Philip, as if to put an end to the
subject.

'Then he has been so stupid as to forget my second name. Come, give it
me. I shall have it sooner or later.'

'I assure you, Charles, it is not for you.'

'Would not any one suppose he had been reading it?' exclaimed Charles.

'Did you know Mary Ross was gone to stay with her brother John?' broke
in Mrs. Edmonstone, in a nervous, hurried manner.

'No is she?' replied Philip.

'Yes; his wife is ill.'

The universal feeling was that something was amiss, and mamma was in the
secret. Amy looked wistfully at her, but Mrs. Edmonstone only g