le abode,
And far away I heard the drum.
Roused with the city, late so still;
Burghers, half-clad, ran hurrying by,
Old crones came forth, and scolded shrill,
Then shouted challenge and reply.

AYTOUN.

Next morning the Hall was early astir. The news of the murder had
spread far and wide, and had caused a feeling of consternation in the
neighbourhood, which was intensified by the mystery in which it was
enshrouded.

De la Zouch had grown worse during the night, and soon after the break
of day had departed, with Eustace, for Ashby Castle, declaring that
in spite of the good intentions of Sir Benedict his case was not
understood, and that it had been aggravated rather than improved by
the attentions he had received from his friend.

Sir George, as magistrate of the district, had caused the body to be
dressed, and for a long time he sat in his dressing-room pondering
what steps he had better take next. There was absolutely no clue, yet
the baron was determined not only to discover the culprit, but to make
such an example of him as should effectually deter a repetition of
such a crime in the neighbourhood of Haddon, at least for some time to
come.

At length he issued from his room, and, passing along the corridor, he
ascended a short flight of stairs, and stopped at the door of the
room in which Dorothy was busily engaged in making some new tapestry
hangings. He paused, uncertain whether to turn back or to enter.

"Yes, I will," he muttered; "she has the clearest head of them all,"
and suiting the action to the word he gently turned the handle and
went in.

Dorothy had dropped her work, and so intently was she gazing through
the open lattice window that she did not notice the arrival of her
father.

The knight stood still for a moment or two, and involuntarily admired
the graceful figure of his daughter, and stepping gently forward, he
tapped her lightly upon the shoulder.

Dorothy turned hastily round, and as she did so he caught her deftly
in his arms and printed a loud, smacking kiss upon the fair girl's
cheek.

"There," said he, "I'll warrant me thou wert longing for it; come now,
confess."

Dorothy disdained any such idea.

"Nay," she replied, "I was but thinking of the poor pedlar. I had
bought these from him only the day before," and she pointed to a
little heap of silks which lay upon the table.

"I had come to talk it over with thee, Doll," replied the baron as he
sat hims