eam, where the plank bridge
had been removed, so they were obliged to retrace their steps. As they
re-emerged into the field from the copse, a large heavily-built man on a
brown mare almost rode into them. He was out of breath, and his horse
seemed distressed. Anthony, as usual, immediately asked if he had seen or
heard anything of a falcon.

"No, indeed, gentlemen," he said, "and have you seen aught of a bitch who
bolted after a hare some half mile back. A greyhound I should be loath to
lose."

They had not, and said so; and the man, still panting and mopping his
head, thanked them, and asked whether he could be of any service in
directing them, if they were strange to the country; but they thought it
better not to give him any hint of where they were going, so he rode off
presently up the slope across their route and disappeared, whistling for
his dog.

And so at last, about four o'clock in the afternoon, they saw the church
spire of Stanfield above them on the hill, and knew that they were near
the end of their troubles. Another hundred yards, and there were the
roofs of the old house, and the great iron gates, and the vanes of the
garden-house seen over the clipped limes; and then Mary Corbet and Mr.
Buxton hurrying in from the garden, as they came through the low oak
door, into the dear tapestried hall.

CHAPTER IX

THE ALARM

A very happy party sat down to supper that evening in Stanfield Place.

Anthony had taken Mr. Buxton aside privately when the first greetings
were over, and told him all that happened: the alarm at Stanstead; his
device, and the entire peace they had enjoyed ever since.

"Isabel," he ended, "certainly thought she saw a man behind us once; but
we were among the deer, and it was dusky in the woods; and, for myself, I
think it was but a stag. But, if you think there is danger anywhere, I
will gladly ride on."

Mr. Buxton clapped him on the shoulder.

"My dear friend," he said, "take care you do not offend me. I am a slow
fellow, as you know; but even my coarse hide is pricked sometimes. Do not
suggest again that I could permit any priest--and much less my own dear
friend--to leave me when there was danger. But there is none in this
case--you have shaken the rogues off, I make no doubt; and you will just
stay here for the rest of the summer at the very least."

Anthony said that he agreed with him as to the complete ba