ite unlike. Leicester had his
gypsy mother's: black, keen, and restless. Gaunt had his mother's:
brown, calm, and steady. But the two men had the same stature, the same
manly mould and square shoulders; and, though Leicester's cheek was
brown as a berry, his forehead was singularly white for a man in his
rank of life, and over his left temple, close to the roots of the hair,
was an oblong mole as black as ink, that bore a close resemblance in
appearance and position to his master's.

* * * * *

"Tom Leicester; I have been insulted."

* * * * *

"That won't pass, sir. Who is the man?"

"One that I cannot call out like a gentleman, and yet I must not lay on
him with my cane, or I am like to get the sack, as well as my servants.
'T is the Popish priest, lad; Brother Leonard, own brother to Old Nick;
he has got our Dame's ear, she cannot say him 'nay.' She is turning away
all my people, and filling the house with Papists, to please him. And
when I interfered, she as good as told me I should go next; and so I
shall, I or else that priest."

This little piece of exaggeration fired Tom Leicester. "Say ye so,
Squire? then just you whisper a word in my ear, and George and I will
lay that priest by the heels, and drag him through the horse-pond. He
won't come here to trouble you after that, _I_ know."

Gaunt's eyes flashed triumph. "A friend in need is a friend indeed,"
said he. "Ay, you are right, lad. There must be no broken bones, and no
bloodshed; the horse-pond is the very thing: and if she discharges you
for it, take no heed of her. You shall never leave Hernshaw Castle for
that good deed; or, if you do, I'll go with you; for the world it is
wide, and I'll never live a servant in the house where I have been a
master."

They then put their heads together and concerted the means by which the
priest at his very next visit was to be decoyed into the neighborhood of
the horse-pond.

And then they parted, and Griffith went to the "Red Lion." And a pair of
black eyes that had slyly watched this singular interview from an upper
window withdrew quietly; and soon after Tom Leicester found himself face
to face with their owner, the sight of whom always made his heart beat a
little faster.

Caroline Ryder had been rather cold to him of late; it was therefore a
charming surprise when she met him, all wreathed in smiles, and, drawing
him apart, began to treat him