ast that he had
meant "No," in spite of his hesitation. All doors seemed closing, save
that which terrified him....

"I have thought in my mind--" he began; and stopped, for the terror of
what was on his tongue grew suddenly upon him.

"Eh?"

Robin stood up.

"I must have time, sir," he cried; "I must have time. Do not press me
too much."

His father's eyes shone bright and wrathful. He beat on the table with
his open hand; but the boy was too quick for him.

"I beg of you, sir, not to make me speak too soon. It may be that you
would hate that I should speak more than my silence."

His whole person was tense and magnetic; his face was paler than ever;
and it seemed as if his father understood enough, at least, to make him
hesitate. The two looked at one another; and it was the man's eyes that
tell first.

"You may have till Pentecost," he said.

III

It would be at about an hour before dawn that Robin awoke for perhaps
the third or fourth time that night; for the conflict still roared
within his soul and would give him no peace. And, as he lay there, awake
in an instant, staring up into the dark, once more weighing and
balancing this and the other, swayed by enthusiasm at one moment,
weighed down with melancholy the next--there came to him, distinct and
clear through the still night, the sound of horses' hoofs, perhaps of
three or four beasts, walking together.

Now, whether it was the ferment of his own soul, or the work of some
interior influence, or indeed, the very intimation of God Himself, Robin
never knew (though he inclined later to the last of these); yet it
remains as a fact that when he heard that sound, so fierce was his
curiosity to know who it was that rode abroad in company at such an
hour, he threw off the blankets that covered him, went to his window and
threw it open. Further, when he had listened there a second or two, and
had heard the sound cease and then break out again clearer and nearer,
signifying that the party was riding through the village, his curiosity
grew so intense, that he turned from the window, snatched up and put on
a few clothes, groping for them as well as he could in the dimness, and
was presently speeding, barefooted, downstairs, telling himself in one
breath that he was a fool, and in the next that he must reach the
churchyard wall before the horses did.

It was but a short run when he had come down into the court, by the
little staircase that led from the men