deepening, they would have been enabled to distinguish more than they
had already done.

"He rides well," said Margaret, more to herself than to either of the
others. "Methinks I know that ride."

"'Tis like Crowleigh's," said Manners.

"But Sir Everard is with Father Philip. It cannot be him," returned
Dorothy.

"There is but one man who bestrides a saddle in such a fashion,"
exclaimed Margaret, as she carefully scanned the horseman. "But no! it
cannot be so. I thought it was Sir----"

"Sir Thomas Stanley," exclaimed Dorothy, taking the words out of her
sister's mouth.

"I thought it was he," she confessed; "and see," she added, raising
her voice, "it is Sir Thomas; I thought it was," and she left the
lovers as she had found them, and hastened down, greatly excited,
to meet her own beloved, and not without some feelings of dismay at
seeing him return alone.

Leaving the succeeding scene to be imagined rather than described, we
will hark back to Sir George at Derby.

He accomplished his business more expeditiously than he had
anticipated, and in a very brief space of time started out of
the town, hoping with a hope soon to be dispelled that he might,
perchance, overtake Sir Thomas.

Without a halt he arrived at Matlock at just about the same time as
his companion reached Haddon, and reining up his steed at the village
inn close by the churchyard, he alighted for a short rest and some
refreshment ere he finished what remained of his journey.

He was well known here, and his peremptory commands were obeyed with
the utmost alacrity.

His first enquiry was about Sir Thomas Stanley, and he learned to his
satisfaction that he had passed safely through there a good hour or so
before.

"In good sooth, your lordship is surely going no further to-night,"
exclaimed the host, as Sir George made the preliminary preparation for
resuming his journey.

"Tut, man, why not? Of course I shall."

"Your horse is stabled," responded the landlord; "surely you will not
attempt to ride further to-night."

"My horse stabled," thundered the baron, "I said not so; 'tis fresh
from Derby. Out with it, man, and let me away."

The horse was quickly unstabled, and brought round to the tavern door,
but the innkeeper was loth to let the good knight depart. It was a
thing he would not do for a trifle, and he feared for the safety of
the baron.

"The roads are very bad," he exclaimed, as they stepped into the
little passage togethe