uld fain
have testified their loyalty to the King by making a holiday over the
execution of these rebels.

Maud had no other care than to get out of the way of the crowd and the
detachments of soldiers; but as soon as a by-street was gained, and she
was left in comparative quiet, weariness and exhaustion almost overcame
her, and for the first time she noticed that Cavalier had fallen lame
with his exertions. To get back to Hayslope Grange, as she had at first
intended, was therefore impossible, and she resolved to ask the
hospitality of Mistress Stanhope for a few days. She hoped Master Drury
was there, but of this she could not feel sure; but whether or no he was
there, she must go, and she made instant inquiry of a bystander for
Captain Stanhope's house. After some little difficulty she found it, and
to her joy heard that Master Drury was there. He seemed much astonished
to see Maud, and Mistress Stanhope was in no little alarm at her
travel-stained appearance.

"Has the rebel army appeared before Hayslope?" he asked, anxiously.

"No," answered Maud, faintly smiling. "Nothing had happened to Hayslope
when I left."

"Then wherefore hast thou come here?" asked Master Drury. "Has anything
happened to Mistress Mabel or the children?"

"Nay, they are all well," said Maud. "I came as a messenger, to bring
certain letters from London to the King."

"Marry, now be truthful, Mistress Maud," said Mary, "and tell us thou
art come to see the gay city of Oxford."

"Nay, nay; I came not for that," said Maud. "I have ridden hard to reach
here in time, so hard that Cavalier hath fallen lame with his journey,
and needs rest more than I do."

"Then I will order Cavalier's rest and refreshment while Mary looketh to
your wants," said Master Drury; and he went out at once, leaving the two
ladies alone. Mistress Stanhope was proud to play the hostess to her old
companion, and as soon as she had changed her dress, and had some
refreshment, she insisted upon showing her new and fashionable house, in
spite of Maud's evident weariness. At length she was allowed to take up
a book and sit down in peace, for some other visitors had called, and
Mary was obliged to go to them.

The book Maud had taken up was quite a new one, just published, and
written by Master John Milton, a schoolmaster of London. It was a volume
of poems, and Maud was soon absorbed in reading "Penseroso." Mary
suddenly entering the room some time afterwards quite sta