wouldn't
try with you," she said, and laughed merrily.

The sound of her laughter was sincere and musical, and perhaps its
beauty barbed the offence to Mr. Archer. The blood came into his face
with a quick jet, and then left it paler than before. "It is a physical
weakness," he said harshly, "and very droll, no doubt, but one that I
can conquer on necessity. See, I am still shaking. Well, I advance to
the battlements and look down. Show me your cousin's path."

"He would go sure-foot along that little ledge," said Nance, pointing as
she spoke; "then out through the breach and down by yonder buttress. It
is easier coming back, of course, because you see where you are going.
From the buttress foot a sheep-walk goes along the scarp--see, you can
follow it from here in the dry grass. And now, sir," she added, with a
touch of womanly pity, "I would come away from here if I were you, for
indeed you are not fit."

Sure enough Mr. Archer's pallor and agitation had continued to increase;
his cheeks were deathly, his clenched fingers trembled pitifully. "The
weakness is physical," he sighed, and had nearly fallen. Nance led him
from the spot, and he was no sooner back in the tower-stair, than he
fell heavily against the wall and put his arm across his eyes. A cup of
brandy had to be brought him before he could descend to breakfast; and
the perfection of Nance's dream was for the first time troubled.

Jonathan was waiting for them at table, with yellow, blood-shot eyes and
a peculiar dusky complexion. He hardly waited till they found their
seats, before, raising one hand, and stooping with his mouth above his
plate, he put up a prayer for a blessing on the food and a spirit of
gratitude in the eaters, and thereupon, and without more civility, fell
to. But it was notable that he was no less speedily satisfied than he
had been greedy to begin. He pushed his plate away and drummed upon the
table.

"These are silly prayers," said he, "that they teach us. Eat and be
thankful, that's no such wonder. Speak to me of starving--there's the
touch. You're a man, they tell me, Mr. Archer, that has met with some
reverses?"

"I have met with many," replied Mr. Archer.

"Ha!" said Jonathan. "None reckons but the last. Now, see; I tried to
make this girl here understand me."

"Uncle," said Nance, "what should Mr. Archer care for your concerns? He
hath troubles of his own, and came to be at peace, I think."

"I tried to make her understa