n the west, beyond the tall trees
of the park, a few red streaks lingered. He felt oppressed and
miserable. The place seemed to him sinister. He hated these fumblings at
locks that were surely meant to remain closed. Yet he did not know what
to say. Mr. John had wandered off to one of the windows and was humming
uneasily to himself.

Then, suddenly, an intense curiosity overcame him.

His life was a strange and perilous one; he carried it in his hand every
day. In the morning he could not be sure but that he would be fleeing
before evening. As he fell asleep, he could not be sure that he would
not be awakened to a new dream. He had long ago conquered those moods of
terror which, in spite of his courage, had come down on him sometimes,
in some lonely farm, perhaps, where flight would be impossible--or, in
what was far more dangerous, in some crowded inn where every movement
was known--these had passed, he thought, never to come back.

But in that little book-lined room, with these curious things in boxes
on the table, and his merry host peering at him gravely, and the still
evening outside; with the knowledge that to-morrow he was to ride back
to his own country, whence he had fled for fear of his life, six weeks
ago; leaving the security of this ex-sheriff's house for the perils of
the Peak and all that suspected region from which even now, probably,
the pursuit had not altogether died away--here a sudden intense desire
to know what the future might hold overcame him.

"Tell me, sir," he said. "You have told Mr. FitzHerbert's fortune, you
say, as well as others. Have you told mine since I have been here?"

There was a moment's silence. Mr. John was silent, with his back turned.
Robin looked up at his host, wondering why he did not answer. Then Mr.
Bassett took up the candle.

"Come," he said; "we have been here long enough."

CHAPTER III

I

"There will be a company of us to-night," said Mr. John to the two
priests, as he helped them to dismount. "Mr. Alban has sent his man
forward from Derby to say that he will be here before night."

"Mr. Ludlam and I are together for once," said Mr. Garlick. "We must
separate again to-morrow, he is for the north again, he tells me. There
has been no more trouble?"

"Not a word of it. They were beaten last time and will not try again, I
think, for the present. You heard of the attempt at Candlemas, then?"

* * * * *

It had been a