In a short time, he reached the summit of a neighbouring hill, from which he could view the lower park, except where it was screened by the trees, to the very door of the palace. There, looking round, he effected this survey, and satisfied himself that no person was in sight. On one side of the hill, a broad walk, running between two rows of fine old trees, which almost met in the middle, led directly to the Blackheath-gate; and, on ascertaining that no one was in view, he turned hitherwards, and pursued his way towards the gate. As he approached the gate, he distinguished the figure of a female, with a long veil drawn over her face, standing under the tree he had named to the messenger of Evaline. He came up with her a few moments afterwards, and, to his great satisfaction, discovered that the fair loiterer was Evaline herself. Their greeting was cordial and sincere. Their salutations interchanged, Sir Walter apologised to Evaline, in a few earnest words, for having kept her waiting, and assured her that his delay was not wilful, but had been owing to his unavoidable attendance on the Queen. “Indeed,” he added, with a somewhat mournful smile, “after my duty to her Highness was fulfilled, I could not repair hither straight; for on my way, happening to glance behind, I descried some evil-minded dastard dogging me; and, to avoid him, I had to make a great round.” On hearing these words, Evaline, though she saw that Sir Walter no longer apprehended that he was watched, could not refrain from glancing wistfully down the walk, with the view of ascertaining if any one was in sight. She discerned no person in the walk; but, turning her gaze on the further side, she fancied that she distinguished some object, not unlike the figure of a man, leaning against one of the trees. Though she was not certain of this, it caused her some alarm; and she pointed it out to Sir Walter. “Mayhap, thou art still followed, Sir,” she said. “Is not that a man’s head yonder?” Sir Walter turned an earnest glance on the spot she pointed out. “No, ’tis not a man,” he answered. Then, with recovered composure, he again confronted her, and pursued his speech. “I have yet been unable, dear lady,” he said, “to compass thy father’s liberation; but I hope to bring it to pass anon. There be more difficulties in the way than I had looked for.” “Alas!” sighed Evaline, her dark eyes filling with tears. “Nay, be of good cheer!” resumed Sir Walter, in a tone of deep sympathy. “A day or two, at furthest, will set him at liberty.” “An’ I could see him,” answered the fair girl, in a voice broken with emotion--“an’ I could be with him in prison, and whisper him a few words of cheer, it would ease my heart of half its sorrow.” “Thou rather needest comfort thyself,” observed Sir Walter, tenderly. “No, I am young, and able to bear much--very much,” returned Evaline. “If he saw me hopeful, he would not mourn; for all his care is for me.”