he remarked.

"I don't just want to be reminded of that," answered Stephen, in a tone
which showed his annoyance. "But if there is rain coming, I think I had
better."

"Put spurs to your pony, Master Ludlow, and get home as fast as you
can," said the captain, who at that moment appeared at the door.

Stephen took the observation as a hint to him to be off, and he was too
proud, fancying this, to return into the house as he was about to do.

"Ah!--he'll never be what our Jack was," sighed Tom, as Stephen rode
off. Dark clouds were coming up thickly from the south-west, the
advanced guard of a dense mass rising rapidly out of the horizon.
Stephen, looking round occasionally to see if the clouds were likely to
overtake him, galloped on down the steep path which led from the tower
to the more level country over which his road lay. He had not gone far
when the voice of some one from behind a hedge cried out, "Who goes
there? Stop, I charge you!"

Stephen was at first not a little alarmed, but directly afterwards he
saw Blind Peter, the pedlar, emerge from his concealment, led by his
little dog. Stephen had known Blind Peter all his life, and as soon as
he saw him he answered, "I am Stephen Ludlow. What do you want?"

"I warn you that you are in danger, young gentleman," said Blind Peter.
"I have been waiting for you all the morning. I thought that I should
know the tread of your pony's hoof, with your light weight on his back.
Don't go back the way you came, or evil may come of it. Take the round
by Fairleigh farm. Be advised, young sir, be advised."

Stephen was timid, but he was obstinate, and as the rain was likely soon
to fall he was in a hurry to get home. He therefore was disinclined to
believe Blind Peter. "For what can any one want to hurt me?" he asked.

"Ask your father, young sir. He may guess better than you can," replied
Peter, "But, I say again, go by Fairleigh. Be advised. The round will
not increase your ride by more than twenty minutes, and a wet jacket is
of less consequence than a broken head."

At the mention of a broken head, Stephen turned pale. He remembered the
warning he had from the girl in the morning, and he now no longer
hesitated to take Blind Peter's advice. Scarcely, however, thanking the
pedlar, he turned his pony's head down a road to the left, and galloped
on at full speed.

"He's a poor-spirited creature, or he would have had a word of thanks,
or may be a piece