"What is more, Mr. Norton," he added, "you will materially serve the king." "Since it is for his majesty's service," replied Mr. Norton, "you shall have the best horse in my stable. Return him or not, as may suit your convenience." "I shall not fail to acquaint his majesty with your zeal in his behalf, sir," said Careless. "He is well aware of your attachment to him." "I only wish I had a better opportunity of proving my loyalty, sir. I pray you say as much to the king. I will not ask questions which you may be unwilling to answer, but I shall unfeignedly rejoice to hear that his majesty has escaped." "I trust it will not be long before you receive that satisfactory intelligence, sir," said Careless. "And I am sure it will gratify you to reflect that you have contributed to so desirable a result. When next we meet I hope I may salute you as Sir George Norton." "I hope so, too, sir," rejoined the other; "for in that case his majesty will have been restored to the throne." After this interview Careless was not allowed to return to his place of concealment in the stable, but was lodged in a chamber in the upper part of the house, not far from the room occupied by the king, so that they had an opportunity of conferring together. At a very early hour on the following morning Careless started on his mission. He was well mounted, for Mr. Norton had strictly fulfilled his promise, and given him his best horse. In his present distracted frame of mind, nothing could have suited the king's faithful adherent better than the task he had undertaken, as he hoped that hard exercise would enable him to shake off the painful idea by which he was haunted. He rode on throughout the day, halting only when it was necessary to refresh his steed. Fortunately, he met with no hindrance, though once or twice he was compelled to quit the direct course. His last halt was at Sherborne, and he was then nearly at the end of his journey. A pleasant ride of a few miles from this charming old town brought him to a secluded little village, consisting only of a few scattered cottages, in the midst of which stood an antique church. This was Trent. It was growing dusk as he approached the village, and the place was so surrounded by trees that he could only just discern the spire of the church. But he knew that in the midst of those lofty elms stood the old manor-house, of which he was in quest, so he rode on without making any inquiries from the few rustics he encountered.