said. "Miss Falconer
and I fell into bad hands, and we may thank God nothing worse has
happened."

"Some of the miners, eh?"

"One of them, sir, who is a host in himself; he blocked our way, and
threatened us; but I would rather not go over it all now. She is so
overwrought, though she has been so splendidly brave."

"Oh! father, dearest dad! take me home," Joyce said. "Is it far; is it
far?"

"Some two miles, my Sunshine; but I can carry you. Now for it, be brave,
my sweet one, and we shall soon be home. Now, then, Sam and Thomas,
march on."

"I think I can walk, father now," Joyce said; "and here is Duke, dear
Duke!"

"Why, of course, I brought Duke. He is cleverer at finding his way than
I am. He soon snuffed you out, good old fellow."

The two other men now turned towards home, with the big lanthorns in
their hands, which served for guiding stars. Duke paced slowly between
the men, and his master and young mistress, and Gilbert brought up the
rear.

The lights of the village were a welcome sight, and the hall door of
Fair Acres was open as they came up the road, showing a group of dark,
expectant figures, thrown out by the blaze of a wood fire.

"The mistress has lit a fire that we might have a welcome; that is like
her wisdom," the squire said. "A few tallow candles would not have been
half as cheerful."

"Here we are; here we are!" the squire called out; and then there was a
rush of boyish feet, and a great chorus of rejoicing, and a host of
questions.

"We have been so anxious, _dying_ of anxiety," exclaimed Charlotte,
thinking it necessary to begin to cry.

"What fools you were to walk over that rough, lonely country," Melville
said. While Piers could only hover round Joyce, who, seated on a bench
or old-fashioned settle by the side of the wide open hearth, held her
mother in a tight embrace.

"The boys ought never to have left you," Piers said. "How could Mr.
Arundel find the way?"

"Joyce knew it," said Bunny. "Joyce knew it. We have been over that
track several times."

"Yes," echoed Harry, "several times; only Joyce and Mr. Arundel were
talking so much, they never thought where they were going."

"'All's well that ends well,'" said the squire. "She had better go to
bed, my dear; and this young gentleman looks white enough. You must get
him a good hot glass of negus; and I hope supper is ready; but take the
poor child to bed first."

Mrs. Falconer had not said much beyond a few words