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      "It's nigh fifteen year since he went away. Wot did he want to come back fur?"Holgrave had never much reason to boast of the gift of speech, more especially when his feelings were in any wise affected. Even the galleyman was not as eloquent now as upon former occasions, and the two issued forth, and walked on for about five minutes, without exchanging a word. Wells, at length, stopped at a house in the vicinity of St. Bartholomew's Priory, with a heavy, gothic, stone arch, inclosing an iron studded door, and the windows of the first, and still more the second, story projecting so as to cast a strong shadow over the casement of the ground-floor. Wells tapped twice with the hilt of his dagger at the oaken door, which was softly opened, and he and Holgrave entered.

      "Thy child is not dead, but sleepeth. At thy bidding, he shall awaken, and make the desolate heart rejoice. Let Roland de Boteler, Baron of Sudley, swear, at the altar of Saint Peter's, that, on the day on which his lost child shall be restored, he will release for ever those whom, under the law of villeinage, he can claim as his property. Let him swear this, and, as the Lord liveth, the child shall be restored!"

      "Wot should I have married her fur, then?"

      How pleased the herald angels will be! he answered.

      "It was well that I was here to recognize your writing."

      "Very well," said the lady, and looking alternately at Edith and Margaret, she added, "I accept your giftyou may now retire."


      His ambition flared up like a damped furnace, and he suddenly saw himself a coward ever to have thought of rest. Boarzell was more to him than any woman in the world. For the sake of one weak woman he was not going to sacrifice all his hopes and dreams and enterprises, the great love of his life."I tell you I'm shut of your farmit's wot's led me astray from a lad. Instead of settin' and reading godly books and singing wud the saints I've gone and ploughed furrers and carted manure; I've thought only of the things of the flesh, I've walked lik accursed Adam among the thistles. But now a Voice says, 'work no more!go and spread the Word!' And if you're wise, f?ather, you'll c?ame too, and you, Beatup. You'll flee from the wrath to c?ame, when He shall sh?ake the earth and the elimunts shall dissolve in fervient heat, and He ..."


      He looked at her white face.As a matter of fact he had never been so secure of Rose as then; the very shamelessness of her flirtations was a proof of ita whoop of joy, so to speak, at finding herself free of what she had feared would be a devastating passion. But who could expect Reuben to guess that? He saw only the freak of a treacherous nature, turning from him to men younger and more compliant than himself. Jealousy, from a fit, became a habit. He grew restless and miserablehe would run in suddenly from his work to see what his wife was doing, he would cross-examine Caro, he would even ask Pete to keep an eye on her. Sometimes he thought of dismissing Handshut, but the lad was an excellent drover, and Reuben had bursts of sanity in which he saw the foolishness of such a sacrifice. Rose flirted nowadays with every man she metshe was, he told himself furiously, a thoroughly[Pg 291] light and good-for-nothing girlshe was not worth the loss of a fellow like Handshut.


      "That is their weapons, my liege," said Woodstock.