"There is no Tremayne. The enclosure men came thither
yestereven, and burned every brick of it to the ground."

"The rascals!" exclaimed Avery. "And what came of thy father, and
mother, and sister, poor Robin?"

The lad looked up with tearless eyes. "I am all of us."

Isoult was silent. This was a sorrow beyond human comforting. It had
been mockery to bid him be of good cheer then.

"My father had enclosed, as you know," resumed Robin in a low voice.
"And these rioters would no enclosures."

"Would to God he had let it alone!" murmured Avery under his breath.

"God would not, Mr Avery," quietly answered Robin, "or he had let it
alone."

And dropping his head upon his hands, the poor boy rocked himself to and
fro silently. He seemed very faint and weary, yet Isoult doubted if he
could eat; but she fetched a jug of milk, and set it before him, bidding
him drink if he could.

"It would choke me, Mrs Avery," he answered. "But you are exceeding
good unto me."

"Poor child!" said Avery, pityingly. "Thou wilt be safe here at the
least. I have not enclosed, I thank God."

"I thought you would take me in for a few days," said the lad, "until I
may see my way afore me, and win some little heart to pursue it."

"Thy way shall be my way, Robin," replied Avery tenderly. "Twenty years
and more gone, when I was a stripling about thy years, thy father helped
me unto my calling with a gift of twenty pounds, which he never would
give me leave to pay him. Under thy leave, I will pay it thee."

"You are exceeding good," he said again, not lifting his head.

"And how didst thou get away, poor Robin?" asked Isoult.

"I dropped from the window," said he. "My chamber window was low built;
and when I heard the horrid shouts and yells at the front of the house,
I jumped out at the back, and hid me in the bushes beyond. And there,
not daring to creep away till they were gone, lest they should discover
me, I heard and saw all."

"Then the bushes took not fire?" suggested Avery.

"Nay," said he, "the fish-pond lieth atween them and the house, mind
you."

He was silent a little while. Then he said softly, under his
breath--"Mr Avery, when I saw the fiends lay hold upon Mother and Arbel,
I thought God must surely strike from Heaven for us. But when, ten
minutes later, I saw the flames shooting up to the welkin, I thanked Him
in mine heart that He had taken them to His rest ere that."

"But, Robin, lad! didst tho