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There we will abide until this England shakes herself out of her rebellious nightmare. Then, when the King shall come to his own, Castle Marleigh will be ours again. Trust in me, Jocelyn." Again his arms went out appealingly: "Jocelyn my son!" But the boy made no move to take the outstretched hands, gave no sign of relenting. His mind nurtured its resentment cherished it indeed.

Then, recollecting himself, and shaking some of the drunkenness from him: "In the old days, when the Marleighs were masters here," he mumbled, "I was often within these walls. Roland Marleigh was my friend. The King's chamber was ever accorded me, and there, for old time's sake, I'll lay these old bones of mine to-night." "You were Roland Marleigh's friend?" gasped Gregory.

He had thought, but he was far from having chosen between Scotland and France, when Crispin now greeted him, not without constraint. "Jocelyn," he said, speaking slowly, almost humbly. "In an hour's time I shall set out to return to Marleigh to fulfil my last night's promise to you. How I shall accomplish it I scarce know as yet; but accomplish it I shall.

Moreover, Gregory recalled little or nothing of the words that had passed between them in their cups, save a vague memory that Crispin had said that he had once known Roland Marleigh. Kenneth was content that Galliard should lie idle, and not call upon him to go forth again to lend him the aid he had pledged himself to render when Crispin should demand it.

She would leave Castle Marleigh, never again to set eyes upon her father, and she hoped that during the little time she must yet remain there a day, or two at most she might be spared the ordeal of again meeting a parent for whom respect was dead, and who inspired her with just that feeling of horror she must have for any man who confessed himself a murderer and a thief.

Castle Marleigh," he added, with well-feigned anger, "has closed its doors upon me. What does it signify to you whither I ride? Suffer me leastways to pass unmolested, and to leave you." Kenneth's passionate reproaches cut Galliard keenly. He held himself at that moment a very knave for having dragged this boy into his work of vengeance, and thereby cast a blight upon his life.

There would be plenty of time to drive to Marleigh Abbey, where her lawyer lived, to interview him, and get back again before it was dark. She would make Mary's interests safe. She had come to care for the child more than she had ever expected to care. She was going to make a provision for her, so that she should be secure against the chances and changes of this life.

As Galliard descended, Joseph turned his head, and his eyebrows shot up and wrinkled his forehead at beholding the knight's equipment. "How is this, Sir Crispin?" said he. "You are going a journey?" "Too long already have I imposed myself upon the hospitality of Castle Marleigh," Crispin answered politely as he came and stood before the blazing logs. "To-night, Mr. Ashburn, I go hence."

Crispin's mention of Roland Marleigh on the night of his arrival now returned vividly to Gregory's mind, and he repeated it, ending with the story that that very evening he had overheard Kenneth telling Cynthia. "And this Galliard, then, is none other than that pup of insolence, Roland Marleigh, grown into a dog of war?" quoth Joseph. He was calm singularly calm for one who had heard such news.

An hour or so later a coach clattered into the yard, and out of it stepped a short, lean man in black, with a very evil face and a crooked eye, who bawled out that he was Joseph Ashburn of Castle Marleigh, a friend of the Lord General's, and that he must have horses on the instant to proceed upon his journey to London.