Lord Walton shook his hand and retired, and then, rejoining Lady Margaret, announced to her his intention of setting off at daybreak the next morning. We will not pause upon all the little particulars of their conversation--the discussion which took place as to whether it would be better and kinder for the young nobleman to take leave of his sister or not, or the after arrangements that he made for leaving four of his men behind him to give aid and protection to Lady Margaret and her household, several of her own servants being absent at the time. Before he retired to rest, he wrote a short note to his sister, and another to Arrah Neil, begging her to write the statement which the hurry of his departure prevented him from hearing in person; and then, giving orders for his horses to be saddled by daybreak, he only further paused to inquire whether poor Falgate had been found. Barecolt and his companions, however, had not yet returned; but, while Charles Walton was undressing, the gallant captain made his appearance in the room, and with a woeful face informed him that no trace of the merry painter could be discovered. "Then he has certainly been taken prisoner," replied Lord Walton, "and we cannot help him. We have more important business in hand, Captain Barecolt, now: by what Lord Beverley tells me, I am induced to return to the king with all speed. I think you had better accompany me, and if so, remember I shall be in the saddle by daybreak." "I am with you, my lord," replied Barecolt; "and as human beings must sleep, I will even go to bed for the present." "Do so," replied Lord Walton; "I shall follow the same course." But before he put his resolution into effect, after Captain Barecolt left him, the young nobleman fell into a fit of deep thought, from which he did not rouse himself for nearly an hour. When he did rise from his seat, however, he said to himself in a low, sad voice, "'Tis as well I am going." Annie Walton slept well, but Arrah Neil was restless and agitated, and after a few hours of disturbed slumber she awoke, and saw the blue, faint light of the first dawn through the curtains of the room. She turned to gaze upon her fair companion, and remarked with a smile the tranquil repose she was enjoying. "Sleep, sleep, sweet lady!" she murmured; "and, oh! may no heartache ever keep your eyes from rest!"