"Who was this that troubled you?" asked the old knight; "the keeper has been telling me about him. Who was he, Ida? Old as I am, I am young enough to slit a coxcomb's ears." "Mind him not, mind him not, dear Sir Harry," cried the girl, laughing. "At the Court I am obliged, very often, to give rude answers to such idle things as that. All I cared for was, that he followed me wherever I turned, and stopped me from coming hither." "Then the Lady Arabella is not gone?" asked Seymour, somewhat impatient at this episode. "Oh yes, sir," replied Ida Mara, "she went near two hours ago, leaving me to follow with one of the maids and her apparel." Seymour cast down his eyes, and clasped one hand tight upon the other; and the girl, turning to the keeper, thanked him in as courteous terms and graceful language, as if she had been bred amongst the highest of the land. Then, looking to Sir Harry, she said, "I will go back now, sir, for fear they should track me here." "You must not go alone," replied the old knight. "You may meet with insult by the way, my dear. I will go with you, till you are near the house." "Let me go, sir," cried the keeper; "the jackanape will run fast enough if he sees me." "That he will," replied Ida Mara; "but you struck him too hard. I thought you had killed him." "Pooh!" answered the man, "I only gave him a touch. Those things ar'n't so easily killed,--they've got nine lives, like a cat. I'll be back again in a minute, good wife, so don't wait for me." In about an hour and a half after Ida Mara's visit, a loud whoop was heard on the outside of the cottage, and Harding started up to open the door, crying "That's my Lord." "Come, Sir Harry, come," exclaimed the Earl of Shrewsbury, entering. "Come, Seymour, come, the land is clear of the enemy.--Bring their horses up, Harding.--How are you, William, how are you?" and he shook his young friend's hand cordially. "Nay, look not so sad," he continued, as they walked along; "all is not lost that is delayed. With such a politician behind your hand, as my good wife, you have nothing to fear. Whatever Mary Cavendish makes up her mind to have done, depend upon it will be done. If she were to set her heart upon marrying me to the prettiest lady of all the Court, I should expect that she would carry me to the altar within a week, and get an act of parliament for bigamy. It's lucky enough that what she determines is generally right, otherwise the world would soon be in confusion." "But what has she discovered, my dear lord?" demanded Sir Harry West.