Suddenly he stood up, and listened. He heard the clatter of horse’s hoofs in the lane. Who could be coming? The evening had closed in. The sun was set. It was not dark so near midsummer, but dusk. He went hastily from the garden into the lane, and saw the young groom urging on his fagged horse, and leading another by the bridle, with a lady’s saddle on it. ‘Where is your mistress? Is anything the matter?’ ‘Nothing,’ answered the lad. ‘She is behind. In taking off her glove she lost her ring, and now I must get a lantern to look for it.’ ‘Nelly,’ that was the horse, ‘is tired. I will get a light and run back. Whereabouts is she?’ ‘Oh, not a thousand yards from the edge of the moor. The doctor rode with us part of the way from Tavistock. After he left, Miss Barbara took off her glove and lost her ring. She won’t leave the spot till it be found.’ ‘Go in. I will take the light to her. Tell the cook to prepare supper. Miss Jordan must be tired and hungry.’ CHAPTER XIX. BARBARA’S RING. JASPER quickly got the lantern out of the stable, and lighted the candle in the kitchen. Then he ran with it along the rough, stone-strewn lane, between walls of moorstone, till he came to the moor. He followed the track rather than road which traversed it. With evening, clouds had gathered and much obscured the light. Nevertheless the north was full of fine silvery haze, against which stood up the curious conical hill of Brent Tor, crowned with its little church. When suddenly Jasper came up to Miss Jordan, he took her unawares. She was stooping, searching the ground, and, in her dark-green riding habit, he had mistaken her for a gorse bush. When he arrived with the lantern she arose abruptly, and on recognising the young man the riding-whip dropped from her hand. ‘Mr. Jasper!’ she exclaimed. ‘Miss Barbara!’ They stood still looking at each other in the twilight. One of her white hands was gloveless. ‘What has brought you here?’ asked Barbara, stooping and picking up her whip with one hand, and gathering her habit with the other. ‘I heard that you had lost something.’ ‘Yes; I was thoughtless. I was warm, and I hastily whisked off my glove that I might pass my hand over my brow, and I felt as I plucked the glove away that my aunt’s ring came off. It was not a good fit. I was so foolish, so unnerved, that I let drop the glove—and now can find neither. The ring, I suspect, is in the glove, but I cannot find that. So I sent on Johnny Ostler for the lantern. I supposed he would return with it.’ ‘I took the liberty of coming myself, he is a boy and tired with his long journey; besides, the horses have to be attended to. I hope you are not displeased.’ ‘On the contrary,’ she replied, in her frank, kindly tone, ‘I am glad to see you. When one has been from home a long distance, it is pleasant to meet a messenger from home to say how all are.’