It was on the Saturday preceding Norton’s walk with Hilary that Gabriel Harford rode once more from Gloucester to the scene of his rescue of Major Locke’s daughter. His recovery from his severe illness had long ago been complete, and the open-air life had fortunately proved the best cure for the mischief done to his constitution by the long months in Oxford Castle. Though thin and a trifle gaunt-looking after the severe campaign and the insufficient food, the indomitable pluck and manliness which had carried him through so much had stood him in good stead through all the quarrels and discussions and difficulties which had prevailed of late among the Parliamentary generals, to the great discomfort of the whole party. Sir William Waller had, some time before, perceived, with the sagacity which made him the greatest tactician possessed by either Royalists or Parliamentarians, that an entire reorganisation of the army was needed and that, with the Earl of Essex at the head, nothing but disaster lay before them. The new model army was at length being formed, and, by the self-denying ordinance, Waller retired to his work in the House of Commons and his soldiers were dispersed, some being sent to serve in the new army, others despatched to various garrisons in the South of England. It was with no little amusement that Gabriel recognised again the scenes of his moonlight adventure two years before, and old Amos, the gatekeeper, gave him a warm greeting. “Eh, sir!” he exclaimed. “These be better times for the Manor, and ’tis you we have to thank for it all.” “Why, man! you did quite as much to save your mistress,” said Gabriel, heartily. “We could never have found our way to her without you for guide. Well! All’s well that ends well! Are Mr. and Mrs. Neal within?” “Yes, sir, and main glad they’ll be to see you.” The trim bowling-green, over which Joscelyn Heyworth had helped him to escort Helena in such unceremonious haste, was now in a blaze of sunshine, and on the steps where they had nearly betrayed themselves by laughing, as they drew off their riding-boots, a large tortoiseshell cat lay basking. From within the house came a cheerful sound of voices, and when the servant ushered him into the hall, he found Humphrey Neal and his pretty little wife so absorbed in playing with their baby son and heir on the hearthrug, that they had not noticed the rare arrival of a visitor. “Captain Harford!” announced the servant, and both host and hostess came eagerly to meet the newcomer with a warmth of welcome which was unmistakable. “I thought Sir William Waller was in the New Forest!” exclaimed Humphrey. “What good fortune brings you here?”