earnest, the sucking splash of horses' hoofs. In an instant
the sound ceased and the silence was worse than the noise. The cry
"Hollo!" brought them all to a stand, and Mary thought her time had
come.

Both sides shouted, "Who comes there?" to which there was a
simultaneous and eager answer, "A friend," and each party passed its
own way, only too glad to be rid of the other. Mary's sigh of relief
could be heard above even the wind and the owls, and her heart beat as
if it had a task to finish within a certain time.

After this they rode on as rapidly as they dared, and about midnight
arrived at the inn where the relay of horses was awaiting them.

[Illustration]

The inn was a rambling old thatched-roofed structure, half mud, half
wood, and all filth. There are many inns in England that are tidy
enough, but this one was a little off the main road--selected for that
reason--and the uncleanness was not the least of Mary's trials that
hard night. She had not tasted food since noon, and felt the keen
hunger natural to youth and health such as hers, after twelve hours of
fasting and eight hours of riding. Her appetite soon overcame her
repugnance, and she ate, with a zest that was new to her, the humblest
fare that had ever passed her lips. One often misses the zest of
life's joys by having too much of them. One must want a thing before
it can be appreciated.

A hard ride of five hours brought our travelers to Bath, which place
they rode around just as the sun began to gild the tile roofs and
steeples, and another hour brought them to Bristol.

The ship was to sail at sunrise, but as the wind had died out with the
night, there was no danger of its sailing without them. Soon the gates
opened, and the party rode to the Bow and String, where Brandon had
left their chests. The men were then paid off; quick sale was made of
the horses; breakfast was served, and they started for the wharf, with
their chests following in the hands of four porters.

A boat soon took them aboard the Royal Hind, and now it looked as if
their daring scheme, so full of improbability as to seem impossible,
had really come to a successful issue.

From the beginning, I think, it had never occurred to Mary to doubt
the result. There had never been with her even a suggestion of
possible failure, unless it was that evening in our room, when,
prompted by her startled modesty, she had said she could not bear for
us to see her in the trunk hose. Now th