a small sequestered hamlet, and affording to the good rustics a means of carrying their wheat, and eggs, and butter, or driving their fat cattle and black-faced moorland sheep to market, but it was not the direct line between any two points or places worthy of even a passing notice. It is true, that some twelve or fifteen miles down the valley, there was a house or two tenanted by gentry—one that might, by a liberal courtesy, have been designated as a castle—but above Ingleborough Hall, to the northwestward, there was no manor-house or dwelling of the aristocracy at all, until the road left the _ghylls_, as those wild glens are designated, and joined the line of the great northern turnpike. It was extremely singular then, to say the least, that a gay troop of riders should appear suddenly in that wild spot, so far from anything that would be likely to attract them; and Annabel sat some time longer by the window, wondering, and at the same time fearing, although, in truth, she scarce knew what, until, at about a mile’s distance, she saw them halt, and, after a few moments’ conversation with a farming man on the wayside, as if to inquire their route, turn suddenly down a narrow by-road leading to the high narrow bridge of many arches which crossed the noble river, and gave the only access to the secluded site of Ingleborough. When she saw this, however, her perturbation became very great; for she well knew that there lay nothing in that direction, except one little market-town, far distant, and a few scattered farm-houses on the verge of the moors, so that there could be little doubt that Ingleborough was indeed their destination. The very moment that she arrived at this conclusion, Annabel called a serving-man and bade him run quick to the vicarage, and pray good Doctor Summers to come up to her instantly, as she was in great strait, and fain would speak with him; and, at the same time, with an energy of character that hardly could have been expected from one so young and delicate, ordered the men of the household, including in those days the fowler and the falconer, and half a dozen sturdy grooms, and many a supernumerary more, whom we in these degenerate times have long discarded as incumbrances, to have their arms in readiness—for every manor-house then had its regular armory—and to prepare the great bell of the Hall to summon all the tenants, on the instant such proceeding might be needful.