in consequence of the deputy's absence for a season, held a secret
conference with the Dean of Whalley ere they departed. An order was left
that the castle should be forthwith in readiness for the reception of
some distinguished guest. In those days tidings travelled slowly in such
thinly-populated districts; like the heath-fire, which extends rapidly
where the fuel is thickly strewn, but is tardy in spreading where it is
less abundant.

The dean, having received the messengers, took special care that the
knowledge of their arrival should be kept, if possible, from the ears
and eyes of Adam de Dutton, who happened for several days at that season
to be hunting in the forest, where a mighty slaughter of game--wolves,
bears, and such like--was the result; in which dangerous pastime,
Geoffery, the dean's only son, acted a distinguished part. This bold
adventurer was accounted the most skilful hunter in the whole range of
these vast forests, where the venison was so strictly kept that the life
of a man was held in but little estimation, comparatively, with the care
and preservation of a beast.

The Deans of Whalley, as we have before seen, were mighty hunters in
those days; and a wild and picturesque story is told in Dugdale's _Mon.
Angl._. v. i., to which we have before alluded--to wit, that the
great-grandfather of the present incumbent, Liwlphus Cutwolph, cut off a
wolf's tail whilst hunting, from which he acquired this surname.
Geoffery inherited a more than ordinary passion for the chase. With his
bow and hunting-spear he had been known to spend many days in these deep
and trackless recesses, where the feet of man rarely trod, and the wild
roe and the eagle had their almost inaccessible haunts. Adam was often
his only companion; the seneschal's partiality for the sport having
rendered these dissimilar spirits more akin than their nature had
otherwise permitted.

On the evening of a sultry day Ulphilas had thrown himself on his couch,
when, without warning or intimation, the Dean of Whalley stood beside
him.

"The holy hermit hath betaken himself early to his repose. How fareth he
in this hard cell? 'Tis long since we have met."

"Peradventure it might have been longer, had not news travelled to thine
ear touching the safety of the Fitz-Eustace and his speedy arrival,"
said the hermit, without so much as turning his eyes toward his visitor.
Robert de Whalley stood silent and aghast. This was a direct and
unequivoc