this hour, is not altogether safe; the ague is a sore
enemy to romance; beware of it."

"I am not afraid of the night," replied Mildred, as she increased the
rapidity of her gait; then, turning immediately upon the porch, she
almost ran, leaving Henry and Tyrrel in pursuit, until she reached the
farthest window which was heard descending the moment she passed through
it into the parlor. When Tyrrel and Henry entered the same apartment,
she had disappeared.

"My sister is not well this evening," said Henry. "We strolled too late
upon the river bank."

"It was still an over-hasty retreat," muttered Tyrrel to himself. "It
bodes not well for me. I will wager, Henry," he said, raising his voice,
"that I can guess what you and your sister have been talking about."

"Let me hear," said Henry.

"First," replied Tyrrel, "she repeated some verses from Shakspeare about
the moonlight sleeping on the bank--this is just the night for
poetry--and then you both fell to talking sentiment, and then, I'll be
bound, you had a ghost story, and by that time, you found you had got
too far from the house and were a little frightened, and so came back as
fast as you could."

"You are wrong," said Henry. "I have been telling sister Mildred how to
bob for eels. Did you know that an eel will never pass a streak of
moonlight for fear of being found out by the watchers?"

"Indeed I did not."

"Well, sister Mildred is wiser than you are; and as I have taught you
that, I will go to bed."

Tyrrel was again left to resume his meditations, and to hatch his plots
for invading the peace of the Dove Cote, on his pillow. To that
sleepless pillow he now betook himself.

CHAPTER X.

TYRREL RETREATS.

The next morning Tyrrel rose with the sun. He had passed a restless
night, and now sought refreshment in the early breeze. With this purpose
he descended to the river, and strayed along the dewy pathway which
crept through the shrubbery on the right bank in the direction of the
Fawn's Tower. He had not wandered far before he perceived a horseman
moving along the road upon the opposite side.

"Halloo, James Curry!--which way?--What news have you?"

"I seek you, sir, I was on my way to the Dove Cote," replied the
horseman, who at the same time turned his horse's head to the river,
and, spurring the animal forward, plunged into the stream which was here
still and deep enough to reach above his saddle flaps. After some
floundering, the hors