rs, but as an inmate of his
castle. He said that, from your conversation, he has conceived a high
opinion of you.

"At present things are somewhat quiet here, and it were well that you
should, like your uncle, take a holiday for a time, and visit your
father and mother. They have sent over, several times, for news of
you."

The next morning Oswald mounted and rode off, attended by Roger, who
had asked Oswald to take him with him, as he had no relations he cared
to visit. Alwyn was going for a few days only, and indeed, would
probably have declined to take a holiday at all, had not Oswald
earnestly begged him to go with him.

"'Tis two years since you have been there," Oswald said.

"That is so, Oswald, but I have often been longer without seeing my
brother; and, in truth, of late I have had so little to do, with but
twenty men to look after, that I long for regular work and drill again.
Still, it were best that I went with you. There are turbulent times on
hand, both on this border, in Wales, and maybe in France. I may get
myself killed, and your father's house may be harried again by the
Bairds, and he may not succeed in getting off scatheless, as he did
last time; and I should blame myself, afterwards, if I had not seen
him, and shaken his hand, when I had an opportunity such as the
present."

Oswald had seen so much, during the two years that had passed since he
first left the hold that, as he rode towards it, it seemed strange that
everything should be going on as if it was but the day before that he
had ridden away--the only difference being that the hold looked
strangely small, and of little account, after the many strong castles
he had seen.

As soon as they reached the moor, within sight of the hold, a horseman
was seen to leave it, and ride at a gallop towards them.

"That is ever the way," Oswald said; "we like to know, when a visitor
is seen, whether he comes as friend or foe."

As the moss trooper rode up, and was about to put the customary
question, he recognized Oswald; and, wheeling his pony without a word,
dashed off at full gallop, waving his spear and shouting, as he
approached the hold.

They rode at a canter after him and, as they reached the entrance, his
father and mother appeared at the door at the top of the steps. The
latter ran down the steps and, as Oswald leapt from his horse, threw
her arms round his neck.

"Thank God you are back again, my boy!" she cried; "though as yet, I
c