rembling grip.

"Supper, dear lad?" whispered Mr. Buxton, with his mouth to the other's
ear.

"Yes, I am hungry," came the faintest whisper back.

Mr. Buxton rose and went on tip-toe to the table, took off some food and
a glass of wine that he had left purposely filled and came back with
them.

There the two friends sat; Mr. Buxton could just hear the movement of
Anthony's mouth as he ate. The four windows glimmered palely before them,
and once or twice the tall doors rattled faintly as the breeze stirred
them.

Then suddenly came a sound that made Anthony's hand pause on the way to
his mouth; Mr. Buxton drew a sharp breath; it was the noise of three or
four horses on the road beyond the church. Then they both stood up
without a word, and Mr. Buxton went noiselessly across to the window that
looked on to the lane and remained there, listening. The horses were now
passing down the street, and the noise of their hoofs grew fainter behind
the houses.

Anthony saw his friend in the twilight beckon, and he went across and
stood by him. Suddenly the hoofs sounded loud and near; and they heard
the pursuivant below stand up from the bank opposite. Then Mary's voice
came distinct and cheerful.

"How dark it is!"

The horses were coming down the lane.

CHAPTER XII

THE NIGHT-RIDE

The sound of hoofs came nearer; Anthony's heart, as he crouched below the
window, ready to spring up and over when the signal was given, beat in
sick thumpings at the base of his throat, but with a fierce excitement
and no fear. His hands clenched and unclenched. Mr. Buxton stood back a
little, waiting; he must feign to be asleep at first.

Then came suddenly a sharp challenge from the sentry.

"It is Mistress Corbet," came Mary's cool high tones, "and I desire to
speak with Mr. Buxton."

The man hesitated.

"You cannot," he said.

"Cannot!" she cried; "why, fellow, do you know who I am? And I have just
supped with him."

There came a sudden sound from the other side of the summer-house, and
both men in the room knew that the guards in the garden were listening.

"I am sorry, madam, but I have no orders."

"Then do not presume, you hound," came Mary's voice again, with a ring of
anger. "Ho, there, Mr. Buxton, come to the window."

"Be ready," he whispered to Anthony.

"Stand back, madam," said the pursuivant, "or I shall call for help."

Then Mr. Buxton threw