Then Lady Sybil told her that in the house of Larkland she kept hidden a great treasure of jewels that had been left her by her father, the Duke of Barrisden. She had told no one of this treasure, except old Roger, who was most faithful; but she feared lest others of her servants might suspect its whereabouts, and for that she was troubled. For jewels, she explained, could quickly be turned into money, and money could furnish soldiers with horses and guns and powder. So there were many on both sides, now that war was coming in the land, who would be glad to have the spending of the Larkland treasure. "But it is to the service of our king that I shall give my jewels," said Lady Sybil. Merrylips drew a long breath and nodded her head. "Be sure!" she whispered. Lady Sybil went on to explain that in that part of the country there were many people--Roundheads, as Merrylips had learned to call them--who were for the Parliament against the king. She was afraid lest these people should learn that her jewels were hidden at Larkland and come and seize them. On that account she was troubled at Rupert's and Claus's coming to the house and then fleeing away by night. She feared lest they had been sent by these Roundhead neighbors to spy upon her, in the hope of learning where she kept her treasure. Not twenty-four hours later it seemed as if Lady Sybil's worst fears were to come true. About noontime there sounded a sudden trampling of horses in the courtyard, and a moment later a man strode into the room where Lady Sybil and Merrylips were at dinner. He was a tall, solid man with a close-set mouth and a square jaw, and the bow that he made before Lady Sybil was brisk and businesslike. "'Tis a graceless matter I am come upon, your Ladyship," said he, "but 'tis better done by me, who am known to you, than by a stranger. I am come, on behalf of the Parliament, whose servant I am, to search your house for arms." [Illustration: "I AM COME, ON BEHALF OF THE PARLIAMENT, TO SEARCH YOUR HOUSE FOR ARMS."] Merrylips waited to hear no more. She knew that crossbows were arms, and she loved her own crossbow. She flew up the stairs, and as she did so, caught a glimpse of rough men in the hall, who were tearing down the pikes and fowling-pieces from the wall, and heeding old Roger never a bit. In her chamber she seized her dear crossbow and ran down again to the parlor, where she posted herself in front of Lady Sybil. "The Roundheads shall not have my arms!" she said. The square-jawed man looked at her then, and smiled. He was sitting much at his ease, with his elbow on the table and a cup of wine within reach of his hand. "That's a chopping wench," said he. "A kinswoman to your Ladyship?" "A daughter to Sir Thomas Venner," Lady Sybil answered, in her coldest and sweetest voice. "Then, on my word, a kinswoman of mine own!" cried the man. "I am William Lowry, my lass, your third cousin by the distaff side. Come! Wilt thou not give me a cousinly kiss?"