deep lane, they found the King and Emlyn standing by the stile, and
could hear the laughter of both as they approached.

"He can always thus while away his cares," said Jane Lane in quite a
motherly tone. "And well it is that he is of so joyous a nature."

Perhaps it was said as a kind of excuse for the levity of one in so much
danger chattering to the little woodland maid so mirthfully, and like
one on an equality. When they appeared, Charles bestowed a kiss on
Emlyn's lips, and shook hands cordially with Steadfast, lamenting that
he had no reward, nor even a token to leave with them.

Stead made his rustic bow, pinched his hat, and muttered, "It is enough
to--"

"Enough reward to have served your Majesty," said Emlyn, "he would say."

"Yea, and it is your business to find words for him, pretty one," said
the King. "A wholesome partnership--eh? He finds worth, and you find
wit! And so we leave the fairy buried in the woodland."

And on the wanderers rode, while Steadfast and Emlyn turned back over
the path through the fields; and she eagerly told that the King had
slept at Blythedale on his way to Worcester, and that though Sir Harry
was dead, his son was living in Holland. "And if the King gets there
safely, he will tell Master George, and if my uncle is with him, no
doubt he will send for me, or mayhap, come and fetch me."

There was a shock of pain in Steadfast's heart.

"You would be glad?"

"Poor old Stead. I would scarce be glad to quit you. I doubt me if the
Hague, as they call it, would show me any one I should care for as much
as for your round shoulders, you good old lubber! But you should come
too, and the King would give you high preferment, when he comes to his
own again, and then we won't be buried alive in this Hermit's Gulley."

She danced about in exultation, hardly knowing what wild nonsense she
talked, and Stead was obliged to check her sharply in an attempt to sing

"The king shall enjoy his own again."

"But Stead," asked Ben, after long reflection, "how could Groom William
know all about brother Jeph?"

A question Stead would not hear, not wishing to destroy confidence in
His Majesty's veracity.

CHAPTER XVIII. JEPH'S GOOD FORTUNE.

"Still sun and rain made emerald green the loveliest fields on earth,
And gave the type of deathless hope, the little shamrock, birth."
IRISH BALLAD.

The King's visit left traces.