all remain here safe hid until you are fully recovered of
your sufferings!"

"Nay Bet, I'll be curst if I do! How, skulk here 'neath your petticoat
and let you run the risk of sheltering a 'rebel'? No, no, I'll be----"

"You'll be ruled by me, dear Charles, of course! As for danger, I am
your sister and proud to share it with you----" Hereupon he kissed her
heartily and sitting down on the floor beside her made great play with
knife and fork again.

"In three or four days at most I should reach the sea, Betty. And I'm
determined on making the attempt within a night or so. As for
risk--bah! I'm become so adept at skulking and hiding I'd elude a
whole regiment! And with money in my pocket and no need to thieve or
poach--Egad! Talking of poaching, I should be on my way to the
plantations at this minute but for a neighbour of yours----"

"Neighbour, Charles?"

"Aye--tall, keen-eyed, soft-spoken and dev'lish placid; true-blue
'spite his limp and infernal old coat----"

"Ah," said Betty softly, "you mean Major d'Arcy, of course!"

"That was the name, I believe, and 'tis thanks to him----"

"Tell me all about it, Charles."

"Well, I'd poached a rabbit, Bet. Keeper saw me, knocked keeper down
and bolted. Other keepers headed me off but I ran like a hare and
bursting through a hedge, came full tilt upon three be-ruffled
exquisites lounging down that quiet bye-lane for all the world as it
had been St. James's--and Bet, who should they be but Alton, Marchdale
and Alvaston! Seeing me in my rags and the keepers in full cry, Alton
yells a 'view hallo' and after me they came on the instant. And a
dev'lish fine run I gave 'em, egad! O Betty, I mired 'em in bogs and
tore 'em finely in brambles and things before they ran me to
earth--even then I doubled up Alton with a leveller, thumped Alvaston
on the ear and Marchdale on the nose. Finally the keepers dragged me
before a little pompous fellow with a scratch wig and red face, called
himself Rington. By this time a crowd had collected and though I was
minded to get word to Alvaston 'twas too late, Rington's keepers and
the yokels were all about me. So they marched me off in triumph to the
Squire, Major d'Arcy, who, smiling mighty affable, threatened to shoot
Rington, sent the crowd off with a flea in their ear, as you might say,
and me to the kitchen to bathe my hurts and eat a meal, and so to the
lock-up. Next morning he woke me very early, bestowed on me some