nd went back to the castle.

At nightfall there rode a man to the castle gate with papers, wherein
my Lord Falkland did question wherefore Lord Radnor had not answered the
summons. And all they were amazed and looked at one another. The
messenger said, moreover, "If that it cannot be proven ere to-morrow
night that the Lord Radnor hath been the victim o' foul play, he will be
branded as a deserter throughout the land."

Thy grandfather gave one cry, "Murdered!" and the sound of it stilled
the life in me that I fell down as one dead. And when I had once more
come to the possession o' my wits, Jock did tell me as how 'twas already
whispered in the village that the young lord had deserted the cause, and
had set sail in secret for the New World. Upon this, I straightway
swooned again. And when I was recovered enough to stand upon my feet and
go forth from my chamber, behold! there was a silence over all the
house, as in a house where the best beloved has died in the night.

Men scoured the country far and near, in search o' th' murdered body o'
th' young lord. And 'twas now the evening o' th' third day. But my lady
meant not to open the door until the morrow, for if she opened it ere
then, she knew not but what matters might be righted, and her lord ride
to the wars in spite o' all. When it was nigh to sunset she did creep
forth and kneel at the door o' th' cave, and call to him in that
beautiful, gentle voice, "Ernle! Ernle! my love! my darling!"

And when he did not answer her, she ceased not, as on the day before,
but went on: "To-morrow I will set thee free. As I live, thou shall be
free to-morrow. An thou wilt but let me be near thee like thy dog, I
will ask no more. Neither will I fret thee with my sorrow. Oh, love, I
do beseech thee speak to me, whose only sin was in loving thee too
dearly. Let the kisses that as a bride I have set upon thy lips plead
with them that they speak to me. Oh, my heart! oh, my husband, have
pity! If thou wilt never speak to me again, speak to me now. Say but my
name, my silly, ill-bestowed name, 'Patience.' Nay, curse me, so I but
hear thy voice. Call me what names thou wilt. In God's name, Ernle! In
the name o' her who was once thy wife!" And as she knelt and pleaded as
a woman with her God, behold! there stepped forth from the coppice
Mistress Marian. She stood there like a figure cut in snow, for her
kirtle was all of white seme, and her hair was as a cloud fallen round
about her. Wh