"No, Prince," answered the young officer, somewhat hesitatingly. "Not exactly that." "Only a little coolness, then. Well, perhaps I may be the means of restoring, friendly relations. But first I want you to perform the ceremonial of introduction. I hope you haven't so far offended the damsels as to render you ineligible?" Trevor stammered out a negative, at the same time announcing his readiness to comply with the Prince's wish. He could not help himself, knowing it was more a command than request. "Come along, then! Let us on to them. You, Colonel, keep the escort at halt here, till I ascertain whether we can have a night's lodging at Hollymead House. That is," he added in a jocular way, "whether we'll be made welcome to it." Saying which, he gave his Arab a touch of the spur, and started off at a canter over the green sward, direct for the hawking party. Of course Reginald Trevor went along with him; though with a reluctance which had only yielded to authority not to be gainsaid. Despite her withering words spoken at their last interview, he still loved Vaga Powell himself--hoping against hope--still had respect for her; and to introduce Prince Rupert was like being a party to the accomplishment of her ruin. "Humph!" grumbled the ex-Lieutenant of the Tower as he looked after them, some little chagrined at being left behind; "High Mightiness thinks he's going to have it his own way with yellow hair. He won't though; unless he do as I've counselled him. But 'twill come to that-- must, before we go back to Bristol--and I shall carry thither my share of the sweet spoils." CHAPTER FIFTY SIX. AN INTRODUCTION IN THE SADDLE. "Who can they be? Not soldiers of the Parliament?" "No; too much gaud and glitter for that." "Sir Henry Lingen's!" "Scarcely either. I heard Richard say Sir Henry's men carry lances. These have none. More probably they're from Monmouth, or rather Raglan. The old Marquis of Worcester's greatly given to display; and his son, Lord Herbert. The shining peacock at their head is likely Herbert himself. They are Royalists, anyhow; that's certain." The dialogue was between the sisters, commenced as they caught sight of the scarlet-coated horsemen, who had entered within their park. Hurriedly they talked, and in tone telling of agitation. For it was a spectacle to cause them alarm; King's soldiers coming to Hollymead could mean no good, but all the opposite. Just the visitors foreshadowed by Vaga's fears; her presentiment fulfilled after all! "What can they be wanting, I wonder?" she queried in a half mechanical way. "Nothing with us, hope?" "Not likely with us; but father. We were wishing him at home. How fortunate he isn't?" "But he may come at any time?" "Indeed, yes. What's to be done?" The elder sister seemed perplexed. Only for a short while; then a thought came to her aid; and half turning to the groom who attended them, she said,--