This whole day was devoted to recalling the past; but on the next, when they had rested and were refreshed, they settled themselves resolutely to think of the future. There was one thing certain--Estly Court was no safe residence for any of them. As soon as Lady Katharine’s flight was discovered, the abbess would conjecture where she would be most likely to take refuge, and send Lord Harcourt to take her away. Fortunately Lady Eleanor possessed a small estate in Wales, which would afford her a livelihood, and, under her brother’s care, she determined to set off for it immediately with her children. Sir John, with his son and Bertrand, saw nothing better for them than to go to Germany, and take honorable service under some of the petty princes, who were always at war with each other; for, from the confiscation of their property, there was nothing left to them in England. As the first day had been given up to rejoicing, and the second to planning, so the third saw their departure, for there was no saying but that at any moment their enemies might discover their retreat. Their parting was very sorrowful, for in those troublous times there seemed little hope that they would ever meet again on earth. How precious, then, to them was their faith that sooner or later, come grief, come joy, they would all meet in a place that has never and will never witness a parting, though it has been the scene of more blessed reunions than we can conceive. Geoffrey and Kate were walking together by the river-side on the last evening. Neither spoke for a long time--they only gazed at the dark water flowing so rapidly toward the sea, and thought how soon it would separate them for years, perhaps forever. Kate broke the silence: "I wonder if we will ever see each other again, Geoffrey." For some moments her companion did not answer; then he said in a low voice, very earnestly: "Kate, do you remember the night when Hubert gave us these?" and he drew from his bosom the little bag of plaited straw which those dear fingers had made in the lonely prison. Her only answer was to draw out hers, and lay it beside his on his open palm. Geoffrey continued: "You remember what he said then, and afterward when he was dying, and what I promised. If God spares me a few years longer, I will come back, and ask you to help me do what he wished so much. I am a boy yet in years, I know, but I am a man in many things, and in token that you will think of me sometimes, shall we exchange gifts, dear Kate? Then, when that day comes, I will ask mine back again." Her only answer was to take up Geoffrey’s bag and put it where her own had been: then Geoffrey did the same with hers, and both were content. *CHAPTER XXIII.* _*Waiting for the Dawn.*_