ve thee run into danger," answered Cherry, sticking
persistently to her point with true feminine insistence, "and I
know better than thou canst do what evil haps befall them who
meddle in matters too hard for them, and that they reek not of.

"Cuthbert," drawing a little nearer and speaking in a breathless
whisper, "dost call to mind what the wise woman said: how thou wast
to beware of the dark river--the flowing river? And yet thou wilt
venture forth upon it this eve! I like it not; I like it not! I
would that I could make a prisoner of thee, that thou mightest not
go."

"It were sweet imprisonment to be held in such thrall," answered
Cuthbert, smiling, as he loosed the clasp of the warm arms from
about his neck; "but this time, sweetheart, I must needs go. I will
be cautious and careful. I are too much upon the river in the
wherry for any to question my coming or going. None knew aught of
our rescue of the hunted priest; none but thyself knows of him nor
where he lies. It is impossible that any can suspect me yet; and
for the future, for thy sweet sake, I will be cautious how I
adventure myself into any like peril, if peril there be."

With that Cherry had to be content, for Cuthbert was immovable
where his word was pledged, and she had perforce to let him go,
since he would not be stayed.

"Tell thy father that I sup tonight with Abraham Dyson," said
Cuthbert, as he kissed her for the last time before he left. "It
may be I shall not be home in time for the supper, and I would not
be too close questioned on my return. I will go thither when I have
landed once more. Good Jacob will wish for news of Father Urban."

Cuthbert was gone, Cherry looking wistfully after him. She had
already begun to know something of the pain as well as of the joy
of love. She felt that there was in Cuthbert's nature a strain of
self devotion and heroism which frightened her whilst it enthralled
her fancy. She had an instinct that he would never turn back in any
quest he had undertaken for the peril he might have to face. She
felt that in him she was realizing her vague ideals of knightly
prowess and dauntless courage; but all the same, unless she might
be at his side to share the peril, she would almost have felt
happier had this fearless bravery been somewhat less.

Cuthbert meantime pursued his way with a light heart, his packet of
papers securely buttoned in the breast of his doublet. The keen air
of the February afternoon fanned