t; but that Patience came in, and
lay down, so close to the door that it was impossible to get out without
waking her, and besides if Emlyn did but stir, she asked what was the
matter.

"They mean something!" said Emlyn to herself, "and I'll know what it
is. They have no right to keep me out of the plot; I am not like
stupid little Rusha! I have been in a siege, and four battles, besides
skirmishes! I'll watch till they think I'm asleep, if I pull all the
hulls out of my bed! Then they will begin."

But nothing moved that Emlyn could hear or see. She woke and slept, but
was quite aware when Patience rose up after a brief doze, and found the
first streaks of dawn in the sky, a cuckoo calling as if for very life
in the nearest tree, and Steadfast quietly sweeping the dew from the
grass in a little open space shut in by rocks, trees, and bushes, close
to the bank of the brook.

A chest which he kept in the cow-shed, and which bore traces of the fire
in the old house, had been brought down to serve as an Altar, and it was
laid over, for want of anything better, with one of poor Mrs. Kenton's
best table-cloths, which Patience had always thought too good for use.

The next thing was to meet the rest of the scanty congregation at the
entrances of the wood, and guide them to the spot. This was safely done,
Goody Grace knew the way, and had guided one of the old Elmwood maid
servants whom she had managed to shelter for the night. Mrs. Lightfoot
was there with Mrs. Rivett, her daughter, elder son, and a grave-looking
man servant, Mr. Henshaw, a Barbados merchant, with his wife, and a very
worn battered shabby personage, but unmistakably a gentleman of quality,
and wounded in the wars, for he was so lame that the merchant had to
help him over the rough paths.

It was a wonderful Whitsun-day morning that none of the little party
could ever forget. The sunrise could not be seen in that deep, narrow
place, but the sky was of a strange pale shining blue, and the tender
young green of the trees overhead was touched with gold, the glades
of the wood were intensely blue with hyacinths, and with all sorts of
delicate greens twined above in the bushes over them. A wild cherry, all
silver white, was behind their Altar, the green floor was marbled with
cuckoo flowers and buttercups, and the clear little stream whose voice
murmured by was fringed with kingcups and forget-me-nots. The scents
were of the most delicious dewy freshness; and