But on the brink of the freshly-made chasm still stood a tall and rugged fragment of the Oak, which had remained in its place when the bulk of the tree was wrenched away. High up in this fragment there appeared a narrow and deep crevice or hole, now revealed, section-wise, by the rending asunder of the wood. At the bottom of this hole was seen a small wallet of embroidered leather: and when Harold shook the fragment of the tree, the wallet fell from its place, and bursting open on the ground, a flash of precious stones greeted the lovers' wondering eyes. Amidst the stones was found the lost signet ring of Norman Kildhurm. In that narrow hole, therefore, these gems must have rested ever since the felonious right hand of Sir Norman had placed them there. But he, hurriedly striving to withdraw his hand, was caught by the narrow mouth of the hole; and fancying, in his guilty fear, that the demon of the Oak had got hold of him, he had screamed three times in uncontrollable terror, and had torn himself loose, mangling his hand, and leaving his signet ring behind. And the desperate vehemence of his effort had caused him to overbalance himself; so he fell backward through the branches to the ground, and his neck had been miserably broken by the fall. Such, at least, is the commonly accepted explanation of that dark catastrophe. But to whom belonged the jewels thus strangely brought to light? Harold, as the nearest living relative of the murdered Colonel, was his legitimate heir; to him, accordingly, the long-deferred but most opportune inheritance came. To tell all that he did with it would require a new story. Whatever it was, it was done with the approval of his unworldly-wise wife, and of the worldly-wise Sir Philip, his father-in-law. For, after the days of mourning for the vanished Lady Kildhurm were over, Harold and Hilda were married, and lived together in much happiness, though they were never able to agree as to which had the best of the other in the matter of settlements. In process of time they became the parents of the child who grew up to be the beautiful Lady Mainwaring of our own day, and who, as has been intimated, deigned to furnish so modern a person as the present writer with the materials for this history of Kildhurm's Oak. THE NEW ENDYMION. I. The term was over, and William Maybold had got his double first.