Even Dora, who was perhaps more distant with Talabor now than she had ever been before, came at last to giving her orders to him, instead of to the governor. And the governor, finding himself thus in the shade, would now and then suddenly awake and become jealous for the preservation of his authority, and at such times would seize the reins with ludicrous haste, while Talabor would as quickly take up again the part of a subordinate. Such was the state of affairs when the governor and Talabor were sitting together one evening in a tolerably large room occupied by the former. On the table before them were a good sized pewter pot and drinking cups to match. The two had been talking for some time. The governor was looking as if he had been annoyed about something, and Talabor could not be said to look cheerful either, in fact, he had rarely been seen to smile since Master Peter's departure. He missed him greatly, for latterly, as long as he was at home, Peter had often had the young man with him in the evenings, when the candles were lighted, or when a blazing fire supplied the place of tallow and wax, these latter being still considered luxuries. Master Peter possessed a few books which he greatly valued--a copy of his favourite Ovid, and a Bible, for which he had given a village and a half, besides one or two others. He made Talabor read to him from all in turn; and often by way of variety, he had long conversations with him, and told him stories of his hunting adventures. Talabor was a good listener, and he not only enjoyed but learnt a good deal from the narratives of his younger days, in which Master Peter delighted. Dora, too, was more often present than not, and sometimes joined in the conversation, which made it more interesting still, and then Talabor felt as if he were almost one of the family. Of course, there could be nothing of this sort now. Dora gave her orders, sometimes made suggestions, but he never saw her except in the presence of others and on matters of business. He had quite satisfied himself, however, that there had never been anything between her and Libor, and that was a satisfaction. She had not deceived her father, she had never either sent or received a single letter unknown to him, and in fact she was just as upright and honourable as he had always thought her. As to why Libor had spread the reports which Talabor had traced to him, and why he had enlisted Borka's aid, unless it were to magnify his own importance, that, of course, he could not guess; but he had so frightened the maid that he was satisfied not only that she had told him the truth so far as she knew it, but that for the future she would keep it to herself, on pain of being denounced as a traitor to her master, of whom she stood in great awe.