m," he murmured. "Whoever you are, have you
come to help?"

"Yes; but hush! Purlrose and his men--are they near?"

"Too far to hear us speak; but hide your lights. Now tell me, are you
one of those who attacked these wretches?"

"Yes; and we have reached you at last."

"Ah!" sighed the prisoner. "It was time--it was time. I don't know
your voice; I could not see your face; but if you know, tell me, for
mercy's sake--my poor boy--was he killed?"

"No. Badly wounded, but alive, and he will live."

Mark heard the prostrate man muttering, and felt the hand he grasped
trembling violently.

"It puts life into me," he whispered, "when I was nearly spent. Tell
me--pray tell me--where is my boy! Not a prisoner?"

"No: safe with us, at the Black Tor."

"Safe--at the Black Tor!" faltered Sir Morton. "Then you are an Eden?"

"Of course: and my father is close by here with a dozen stout men to
punish these villains and save you, and--you do not say anything about
your child."

There was no reply, and Mark pressed the hand he held, to find that
there was no response, and that it was turning wet and cold, for the
unfortunate prisoner had been unable to bear the tidings, and had
swooned away.

"Go back," whispered Mark, "and tell my father whom we have found."

"Leave the light?" said the boy.

"No, take it. Tell him all you have heard."

The light glided away, and the next minute a faint sigh told that Sir
Morton was regaining his senses, his complete recovery thereof being
announced by a trembling pressure of the hand.

"Weak," he whispered. "I was badly wounded. So Heaven has sent my
greatest enemy to save us."

"Us?" cried Mark excitedly. "Then Ralph Darley's sister is safe."

"Will be, I pray," said Sir Morton feebly. "I, her father, can do no
more."

Sir Edward came up, in company with Dan Rugg and five men, approaching
cautiously with one lantern; and they were in the act of descending to
Mark and the prisoner when a hoarse bullying voice was heard from a
distance, the words echoing and reverberating as along a vaulted
passage.

"Now then, back to your den, old fool. Don't be a week fetching that
water."

"I--I am going back," cried Sir Morton, and then in a whisper--"the
light--the light. I will soon return."

He caught at the lantern, and began to move off painfully, while his
would-be rescuers stood watching till the light disappeared round a
corner, and a minute later the same ha