heart."

"Nay, now," replied Dorothy, not paying the proper amount of regard to
the truth, "I am already for-wearied of the hawking; and it were more
to my taste to follow on in a more leisurely fashion," she added,
seeing that he was about to refuse. "St. George is a good bird, and is
anxious to try a flight; and thou art a stranger, too; thou must take
it," and she placed the merlin on his wrist.

Manners had never felt more embarrassed in the course of his life,
and, ready-witted though he was, he found himself at a loss how to
reply. Before he had collected his scattered senses, Dorothy had
gone, and he, left alone, was a long way in the rear. The horns of the
hunters, which were continually sounding, proved a sufficient guide,
and being nimble of foot, he started off in great haste to rejoin the
party, which was now well out of sight.

All this had not escaped the jealous eyes of De la Zouch, for,
securely hidden within the friendly foliage of a patch of brushwood,
he had seen and heard all, and, with perceptions sharpened by the
jealous spirit which raged within his breast, he had at once divined
the secret which neither of the two, as yet, understood.

As Manners departed, he emerged from his hiding-place, gnashing his
teeth with rage. His anger was terrible to behold.

"So, so!" he exclaimed, as he watched the retreating figure, "it
has come to this, then, that I am to yield my share of the riches of
Haddon to this usurping churl. But no; it shall never, never be! John
Manners shall lie in six feet of solid earth ere I forego the prize!"

Had he been more careful, Sir Henry would have discovered that he was
not alone. Had he been less rash, whatever he might have thought, he
would have kept his opinions to himself; for hardly had he spoken,
when a rough voice at his elbow awakened him from the reverie into
which he had fallen.

"Such words, noble sir, are costly, and I ween thou hadst rather not
have them repeated to the King of the Peak."

De la Zouch turned sharply round and fiercely confronted the
well-known figure of the Derby packman.

"Thou art over bold for a knave," he exclaimed; "get thee gone."

"Not till I am the richer, or I will hie me to Sir George, and tell my
tale to him," was the cool reply.

"Villain!" hissed Sir Henry, "begone!" and obeying the impulse of the
moment, he dealt the pedlar a blow which felled him to the ground.

"There will be a few more nobles for that," groaned t