"Yes? this morning, Betty? ... then ... then ... what did her ladyship do?" Betty was frightened, and like a child was ready to drown her fright in tears. She had not recognised my lord in those dirty clothes. "Don’t you know me, Betty?" asked Philip, a little more quietly. Betty cast a timid glance at the two men before her, and smiled through the coming tears. "Of course, my lord ... I ..." she murmured shyly. "’Tis my nephew Jim out o’ Nottingham, mistress," said John, sternly, "try and remember that: and now tell us what did her ladyship do?" "She had the horses put to, not an hour after the stranger had been. Thomas is driving and Timothy is our only other escort. But we’ve not drawn rein since we left the Hall!" "Yes! yes!" came from two pairs of eager lips. "And my lady stopped the coach about two hundred yards from here," continued Betty with great volubility, "and she told me to run on here, to see that the coast was clear. She knew I could find my way, and she wouldn’t trust Timothy as she trusts me," added the young girl with a pretty touch of pride. "But where is she, Betty? where is she?" Betty pointed to the clump of firs, which stood like ghostly sentinels on the crest of the hill, just where the road turns sharply to the east. "Just beyond those trees, my lord, and she made Timothy watch until I came round the bend and in sight of the forge. But la! the mud on the roads! ’tis fit to drown you." But already John Stich was outside, beckoning to Mistress Betty. "Come, mistress, quick!" he said excitedly, "her ladyship must be nigh crazy with impatience. By your leave, my lord, I’ll help Mistress Betty on her way, and I’ll keep this place in sight. I’ll go no further..." "Yes, yes," rejoined Philip, feverishly, "go, go, fly if you can! I’ll be safe! I’ll not show myself. God give you both wings, for I’ll not live now till I see my sister." Eager, boyish, full of wild gaiety, he seemed to have thrown off his morbid anxiety as he would a mantle. He even laughed whole-heartedly as he watched Betty, with many airs and graces, "Luds!" and "I vows!" making great pretence at being unable to walk in the mud, and leaning heavily on honest Stich’s arm. He watched them as they picked their way up the so-called road, a perfect quagmire after the heavy September rains. The air seemed so different now, the Heath smelt good, there was vigour and life in the keen nor’-wester; how green the bracken looked, and how harmoniously it seemed to blend with the purple shoots of the bramble laden with ripening fruit! how delicate the more tender green of the gorse, and there that vivid patch of mauve, the first glimpse of opening heather! the heavy clouds too were rolling away; the September sun was going to have his own way after all and spread his kingdom of blue and gold over the distant Derbyshire hills.