with, and I went through
a campaign together; a futile campaign, I fear, with more of pursuit
than pursuing, but for a high cause. I'faith, it seems my lot to be
pursued. And you, fair lady (for, dark though it is, I know you are
fair), are you Colonel Myddelton's daughter, the mistress Barbara, of
whom he has told me?"

"I am Colonel Myddelton's daughter," said Barbara. "But you, sir?"

"Right, right," the stranger replied, more gaily; "you ply me hard, but
my name stays secret, none the less. Yet this ring may perhaps convince
you I am no common housebreaker. See, it was the gift of your father,
and a passport, so he said, to Myddelton Hall by day or night." And he
stretched forth a ring, which Barbara immediately recognized as an old
signet of her father's which suddenly he had ceased to wear, he said
not why. She was partially satisfied. "And Bevis," added the
stranger--"take it, will you not, dear lady, as a good omen that Bevis
let me pass almost unchallenged? But your father," he went on--"is he
ill, or away? or will you lead me to him? Had I not fallen asleep, I
was about to seek his room. As for entering by the gate, you must know,
young mistress, the danger now run by friends of the late King."

"Ah, yes," said Barbara, with a sigh. "My father," she added, "rode
this morning to London, where he will be a week yet; but I can tell you
where he is lodged. Will you not follow him?"

"London!" the young man repeated, in disappointed tones; "what does he
there? London is no place for a true man."

"He has ridden thither," said Barbara, "on matters touching his
property, which the rebels would confiscate."

"Rebels!" cried the stranger excitedly. "Ha! a good word in your mouth,
young mistress. I like to hear you say that thus roundly. Zounds!" he
added; "it is ill news that your father is away, for I have but a few
hours in this country, and I must even return without accomplishing my
mission. To London I dare not adventure. But, mistress, will you not
bring a light, that we may see if we still doubt each other; and then
we must talk of a plan of safety."

"Stay where you are," said Barbara, "and I will fetch a candle."

During her absence the stranger had not moved. As she entered he
stepped forward and took the light from her, holding it high and
scrutinizing her face narrowly.

"Ah!" he exclaimed at last, with a sigh; "good as gold! Would that
other lands could breed such grace! It is ill to be banished