as three
miles, and Ivel a mile, that plentifully yield all manner of
provision; and within twelve miles of the south sea."

It was on the grass before this seductive and picturesque structure
that the sailor stood at gaze under the elms in the dim dawn of Sunday
morning, and saw to his surprise his sister's lover and horse vanish
within the court of the building.

Perplexed and weary, Roger slowly retreated, more than ever convinced
that something was wrong in his sister's position. He crossed the
bowling green to the avenue of elms, and, bent on further research,
was about to climb into one of these, when, looking below, he saw a
hole large enough to allow a man to creep to the hollow interior. Here
Roger ensconced himself, and having eaten a crust of bread which he
had hastily thrust into his pocket at the inn, he fell asleep upon the
stratum of broken touchwood that formed the floor of the hollow.

He slept soundly and long, and was awakened by the sound of a bell. On
peering from the hole he found the time had advanced to full day; the
sun was shining brightly. The bell was that of the "faire chappell"
on the green outside the gatehouse, and it was calling to matins.
Presently the priest crossed the green to a little side-door in the
chancel, and then from the gateway of the mansion emerged the
household, the tall man whom Roger had seen with his sister on the
previous night, on his arm being a portly dame, and, running beside
the pair, two little girls and a boy. These all entered the chapel,
and the bell having ceased and the environs become clear, the sailor
crept out from his hiding.

He sauntered towards the chapel, the opening words of the service
being audible within. While standing by the porch he saw a belated
servitor approaching from the kitchen-court to attend the service
also. Roger carelessly accosted him, and asked, as an idle wanderer,
the name of the family he had just seen cross over from the mansion.

"Od zounds! if ye modden be a stranger here in very truth, goodman.
That war Sir John and his dame, and his children Elizabeth, Mary, and
John."

"I be from foreign parts. Sir John what d'ye call'n?"

"Master John Horseleigh, Knight, who had a'most as much lond by
inheritance of his mother as a had by his father, and likewise some by
his wife. Why, baint his arms dree goolden horses' heads, and idden
his lady the daughter of Master Richard Phelipson of Montislope, in
Nether Wessex, known to