Pursuing his course along a narrow winding lane, overhung by trees, and skirted here and there by a cottage, having whitewashed walls and a grey thatched roof, he came to the church, close to which stood the old manor-house--a large, low building, solidly constructed of stone, with shingled roof, mullioned windows, and an entrance covered by a pent house. This was the rear of the mansion, but the front looked upon a smooth lawn, bordered, as we have said, by lofty elm-trees, inhabited by a colony of rooks. Trent House was not approached by an avenue, and to this circumstance it chiefly owed its extreme privacy. The entrance being at the rear was reached from a large yard, differing very little, except in size, from the enclosure ordinarily attached to a substantial farm-house. On the right of the yard were the stables and other outbuildings. [Illustration: TRENT HOUSE.] Careless had pulled up at the gate, and was contemplating the old house, and thinking how well adapted it was as a place of refuge for the king, when a serving-man, who was crossing the yard from the stables, noticed him, and at once came up to ascertain his business. As the man drew near he recognised Major Careless, and saluting him respectfully, addressed him by name. "Your honour has forgotten me, I make no doubt," he said, taking off his cap as he spoke. "I am Harry Peters, and was once your groom." "Nay, I have not forgotten thee, Harry," replied Careless. "I am glad to find thee here, for I know thee to be a trusty fellow, and thou may'st be of use to me, and to another beside me. Is Colonel Wyndham at home?" And as Peters responded in the affirmative, he added, "that's well; open the gate, and let me in. Now go tell thy master that Mr. Morton desires to speak with him." "Had I not better announce your honour correctly?" "Do as I bid thee," said Careless. And Peters departed. Left alone Careless dismounted, awaiting Colonel Wyndham's appearance. In a minute or two afterwards the colonel came out of the house and marched towards him. The former governor of Dunster Castle was a remarkably fine-looking man, in the prime of life, and, though plainly attired, had a very distinguished air, and looked like one accustomed to command. When within a few yards of the stranger he suddenly stopped, and exclaimed: "Why, how is this? My man said that Mr. Morton, of whom I know nothing, and never heard of before, desired to see me, but I find it is my old friend Will Careless." "Yes, 'tis I, in good truth, Frank," replied the other, laughing. "But I had reasons for the disguise, as I will explain anon." "You are welcome to Trent, Will--right welcome--under whatever name you come," said Colonel Wyndham, heartily. "Take Mr. Morton's horse to the stable," he added to Peters. "Now come in with me, and I will present you to my wife and mother."