He refilled his silver cup, and the three rescuers stole quietly up the dark staircase. Hardly, however, had they reached the level of the gallery when an exclamation from Norton crushed their hopes. “And here in good sooth she comes!” he said, as sounds of approaching footsteps made themselves heard, and a flickering light began to play on the dark oak wainscot at the further end of the hall near the entrance to the main staircase. Gabriel signed to his companions to pause on the spiral steps, and going down on his hands and knees crept cautiously into the gallery, which lay in deep shadow, but commanded an excellent view of the hall between the posts of the massive oak balustrade. He clenched his hands in hot anger when he saw how young and innocent and helpless was Norton’s victim. She came into the hall bearing a silver candlestick, and the flickering light revealed a face of childlike beauty, the cheeks still flushed with the sudden awakening from sound sleep, the blue eyes wide with anxiety and alarm. She had hurriedly thrown on a pink flannel sacque, and her fair hair hung in disorder about her shoulders. Norton stood still for a moment feasting his eyes on her loveliness, then he noticed that close behind her came a certain poor relation who had lived for many years at the Manor, a worthy lady of fifty, known as Cousin Malvina. “I grieve to be the bearer of ill news,” he said, saluting both ladies with great courtesy. “Oh, sir, tell me all, and tell me quickly. How doth my father?” asked little Mistress Nell, her pretty eyes filling with tears. “Nay,” said Norton, “be not so distressed. He was sorely wounded to-day in a skirmish--you may doubtless have heard that Sir William Waller cut his way right through Prince Maurice’s army in the forest; your father is now our prisoner, and lies at the Prince’s headquarters at Little Dean. If you will don your riding-gear at once I will have a pillion put on my horse and take you to him.” “Sir,” said Cousin Malvina, “it is out of the question that Helena should go with you now. You must wait till morning, then I will bring her in the coach.” “Dear madam, by morning it will be too late; her father lies at death’s door, and he himself implored me to bring her to him without delay. Can you not trust an old neighbour?” “You were a neighbour that my kinsman sorely distrusted,” said Cousin Malvina, her grave face bearing an expression of great perplexity. “But much is changed when we have but a short time to live,” said Norton, unblushingly. “Come, madam, let bygones be bygones. You shall ride to Little Dean with us behind my friend.” “Dear Cousin Malvina, pray do not hinder us,” said Helena, eagerly. “Perhaps with good nursing we may yet save my father’s life. Come, let us go upstairs and dress. Come, please, come!”