"Well, Dick, thou goest in good earnest at last," said the old knight, turning to his nephew; "and on my life I think it is the best thing thou canst do. Thou art a good soldier, and wilt raise thyself to renown. I need not tell thee what thy duties are; but thou must take a horse and arms of thine old uncle, whom thou mayest never see again, perchance. Choose them for thyself, boy. Thou wilt find wherewithal in that purse," and he placed a full one in his nephew's hand. "As my good brother, the Abbot, is not here, thou must content thyself with my benison. Be it upon thee, Richard! Love thy king, thy country, and thine honour. But, above all things, love God, fear his anger, hope in his mercy, trust in his promises, and submit thine own reason in all things to his word. So shalt thou prosper in this world; so shalt thou be meet for another." The young man caught his uncle's hand and kissed it; and the old knight pressed him for a moment in his arms. "Here, Richard, take this gift of me," said Isabel: "'tis but a jewel for your baldrick." Mary Markham did not speak; but after he had pressed his lips on Isabel's cheek, she offered hers silently, placing a ring in his hand. "I will bear it to honour, and win you yet, Mary," said Woodville, in a low voice, as he took his parting kiss; and he felt that her cheek was wet with tears. "Hark! there are the horses, noble sir," exclaimed Hal of Hadnock, turning to Sir Philip. "Once more, farewell! Your nephew shall give you further news of me; and may one day clear me in your eyes for somewhat you have thought amiss." Then bidding the ladies adieu, he turned to the hall door, and mounted, with a princely largesse to the servants of the house. Richard of Woodville followed, sprang on his horse's back, and, giving one look back, rode through the gates after his companion. The wood was dark and sombre, as they proceeded amidst its thick coverts; but when they issued forth, a faint glimmer of twilight served to guide them on the way, and they quickened their pace. There were lights in the windows of the cottages, too, as they passed through the village; and when they reached the other side, they caught a pale line of yellow light, peeping out from beneath the dark clouds upon the edge of the western sky, and gilding the water of the stream. Riding on quickly, they had not left the last house behind them five minutes, when Hal of Hadnock pulled up his horse short, exclaiming, "Hark! there is a scream!" "'Tis but a screech-owl," answered Richard of Woodville; "they come forth in spring."