"Not I," he said, emphatically. "I left my axe just outside, and it looks so like rain that I went to fetch it in, but I saw nobody; no, not a soul. Methinks it will rain hard, too, before the morning." "Tut," interrupted Sir Edward. "Did you hear anybody?" "No, not even a mouse." "Then we must search. Out, men, and help us. The man that catches him shall be rewarded well. We must find him; he is hereabouts, for I heard his voice. A murrain on the fellow--all this trouble for a woman's whim." He glanced suspiciously round the cot, but finding no suspicious tokens he led them out and set them to work to discover him. Few of them, however, were zealous, for Manners had made himself popular among them during his visits to the Hall. Dorothy they adored and they were not at all anxious to bring sorrow upon her to oblige the imperious Stanleys. Besides these considerations, the whole affair was so romantic that it seemed more like an acted ballad than a serious reality while Manners' position appealed to them in such a powerful fashion that they sympathised with him, and had not the search been conducted immediately under the eyes of the two nobles it would have been far more half-hearted than it was. A few, and a few only, were tempted to diligence by the offer of reward, and made a display of alacrity, and amongst the busiest, with a price upon his head, John Manners searched vigilantly for himself. CHAPTER XXVIII. NOT YET You might esteem him A child for his might, Or you may deem him A coward through his flight. But if she whom love honours Be concealed from the day, Set a thousand guards on her, Love will find out the way. ANON. If love cannot sharpen the faculties of mankind; if it cannot quicken the perceptions; if it has not the power to make the deaf hear, the blind see, the lame walk--at least, sufficient for its own success--then, indeed--! But it is possessed of all these virtues, and more. If necessity be the mother of invention, then is love the mother of both; and surely the most ingenious devices and the cleverest productions had been connected with this subtle passion. Divers and many were the plans which Manners devised to meet his beloved Dorothy again, but the success he so richly merited was tardy in coming, and one after another his schemes were frustrated, until success seemed to have receded from his grasp for ever. Dorothy, in fact, was too carefully watched to permit of her meeting her lover easily, and she was kept too busy at the tapestry frame to allow her much time for writing to him had she been so disposed. Whenever she went out she was well attended, and for a long time Manners was fain to content himself with an occasional glimpse of her pale face as she rode by, or by sending love-notes and receiving messages back by the kindly aid of the faithful Lettice.