lves, he cannot help it, and all will come
right. Nay, interrupt me not, I have weighed my words, there will
never be such another chance for us to flee. There, now, thou knowest
all I can tell thee, thou shalt decide anon."

Dorothy was silent, but if looks had speech, she had pleaded
eloquently. Her resolution swayed to and fro in the terrible struggle
of her affection: her soul was riven. She was too happy in the company
of her lover to say him nay, and yet, at the same time, the bond of
love which drew her to her father was far too strong to be suddenly
snapped.

"I must go," she said, at last, "but whether it be aye or whether it
be nay, in life and in death I am thine alone. Kiss me, John, and let
me go."

Manners was deeply agitated. He took her face in both his hands, and
stooping down, he kissed her again and again.

"It may be the last time," he said, "but trust me, Doll, I am only
thine. I shall keep my love-troth true. Keep a stout heart, my sweet
one, and by my faith we shall be happy yet."

They had approached the Hall as near as was safe, and now the moment
for parting had arrived Dorothy tried to speak, but her heart was too
full, and words failed to come at her command. She listened to her
lover's last injunction to keep up a brave heart, and wringing his
hands in agonised silence, she gathered her cloak around her, and
hastened into the Hall.

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE TOKEN.

And whilst the feast progressed apace,
The music swelled in joyous strain;
But midst the group was one fair face
That scarcely hid the look of pain.
And ever and anon she looked away;
And when the others went she turned to stay.

Early next morning, as Manners was engaged in collecting faggots
for the hungry fires at the Hall, he was startled to hear himself
addressed by his proper name.

He turned round aghast, but was reassured when he saw that it was none
other than Lettice's lover who stood by his side.

"Hush, Will," he said, "call me Hubert still; it were dangerous for my
name to be overheard. But thou hast news for me, I can read it in thy
face."

"Aye," replied the youth, "Mistress Dorothy sent Lettice with a
message for thee, but old Roger knew not where thou would'st be
found."

"Where is it?" cried the lover, impatiently, "let me see it; 'tis the
answer, I'll warrant me."

"Nay, I have it not. Lettice awaits thee at the hut; she would not
even let me bring it to thee, for her mis