to have mercy;
and then fell a-crying again. When the door of the kitchen passage
shut--for they were all gone out by now--her crying ceased mighty soon;
and then I heard her laugh very softly to herself, and break off again,
as if she had put her hand over her mouth. But I dared not speak to her
yet.

I listened very carefully--for all the house was still now--for the
sound of the horses' feet; and presently I heard them, and reckoned that
a dozen at least must have come after me; and I heard the voices of the
men too as they rode away, grow faint and cease. Then I heard my Cousin
Dolly slip through the door beneath me, and she gave me one little rap
to the floor of my hiding-hole as she went beneath it.

I did not hear her come back; for Cousin Tom's footsteps were loud in
the kitchen passage; and the men too were tramping in and upstairs,
while the maids went back to bed through the kitchen; and then, when all
was quiet again I heard her voice speak suddenly in a whisper.

"You can open now, Cousin Roger, they be all gone away." I unbolted and
pushed open the little door quickly enough then; and though I was dazed
with the candlelight the first thing that I saw was Dolly's face, her
eyes as bright as stars with merriment and laughter, and her cheeks
flushed to rose, looking up at me.

CHAPTER X

That ride of mine all night to London was such as I shall never forget,
not from any outward incident that happened, but for the thoughts that
went continually through my heart and brain; and I do not suppose that I
spoke twenty words to James all night, until we saw about seven o'clock
the smoke and spires of London against the morning sky.

* * * * *

So soon as the coast was clear, and the last sound of the horses was
died away on the hill beyond the Castle Inn--for the men rode fast and
hard to catch me--I was out and away in the opposite direction, to
Puckeridge; but first we brought the horses back as softly as we could,
with James (who, like a good servant had not stirred an inch from his
orders through all the tumult which he had heard plainly enough from the
meadow), round to the head of the little lane that leads from Hormead
Magna into Hare Street. There we waited, I say, all four of us in
silence, until we heard the hoofs no more; and then James and I mounted
on our horses.

I had said scarcely a word to Dorothy, nor she to me; for we both felt,
I think, that there