are not bound for Knowsley, then?"

"No, believe me, I have a better nose than to thrust it into the trap,
after the foretokenings we have had. The knave who elbowed me i' the
graveyard, as well as the maiden yonder, warned us of some danger at
Knowsley, where, I do verily suspect, the rogues are in ambush,
waiting for us; but we will give them the slip, and away for bonny
Waterford."

The morning was yet raw and misty. A dense fog was coming on, which
every minute became more heavy and impervious to the sight. Objects
might be heard, long ere they were seen. The rime hung like a
frost-work from branch and spray, showing many a fantastic festoon,
wreathed by powers and contrivances more wonderful than those by which
our vain and presumptuous race are endowed. The little birds looked
out from their covers, and chirped merrily on, to while away the hours
till bedtime. The rooks cawed from their citadel--to venture abroad
was out of the question, lest the rogues should be surprised in some
act of depredation, and suffer damage thereby. So chill and searching
was the atmosphere that the travellers wrapped their cloaks closely
about their haunches, to defend themselves from its attacks. They were
scarcely a mile or two on their road when, passing slowly between the
high coppice on either hand, Egerton stayed his horse, listening;
whilst thus engaged, another blood-drop fell on his hand.

"There be foes behind us," said he, softly. His practised and
ever-watchful ear had detected the coming footsteps before his friend.

"'Tis a fortunate screen this same quiet mist, and so let us away to
cover." Without more ado he leaped through a gap in the fence,
followed by his companion; and they lay concealed effectually from the
view of any one who might be passing on the road. They were not so far
from the main path but that the footsteps of their pursuers could be
heard, and voices too, in loud and earnest discourse. The latter kept
their horses at a very deliberate pace, as if passing forward at some
uncertainty.

"I say again, heed it as we may, this mist will be the salvation of
our runaways. After having dogged them to such good purpose from
Lathom, it will be a sorry deed should they escape under this unlucky
envelope."

"Tush, faint heart--thinkest thou these enemies of the faith shall
triumph, and our own devices come to nought? Nay, verily, for the
wicked are as stubble, and the ungodly as they whom the fire
devouret