"He is right--he is right!" exclaimed Taffril, "go with him--there, into the wood--not by the highroad. Let him bring you to the sands at three of the morning. A boat will be in waiting to take you off to my brig, which will sail at once." "Yes--fly--fly!" said the wounded man, his voice faltering as he spoke. "It is madness to stay here," added Taffril. "It was worse than madness ever to have come!" said Lovel, following his uncouth guide into the thicket. As he went up the valley he realised the bitterness of remorse that comes too late. He had passed that way in the morning, innocent, and now--he had the stain of blood upon his hands. II. THE SEEKERS OF TREASURE Edie guided him along a deep ravine till they came to a precipice of rock overhung with brushwood and copse. Here completely concealed was the mouth of a cave, where, as Edie said, they would be in perfect safety. Only two other persons knew of its existence, and these two were at present far away. The cavern was in the shape of a cross, and had evidently been the abode of some anchorite of a time long past. In the corner was a turning stair, narrow but quite passable, which communicated with the chapel above--and so, by a winding passage in the thickness of the wall, with the interior of the priory of St. Ruth. Twilight faded into night, and the night itself wore away, while Edie sat telling Lovel all the old-world tales he could lay his tongue to, in order to keep the mind of the young man from brooding over his situation. They sat close together on a little watch-tower niched deep in the wall, and breathed the night air, while waiting for the hour at which they must betake them to the beach, to meet the boat which Lieutenant Taffril was to have in readiness. Midnight approached, the moon rose high in the sky above, but the voice of the Blue-Gown still droned on, telling his tales of old time, when suddenly Lovel, whose ears were quicker, laid his hand on his companion's arm. "Hush," he whispered, "I hear some one speaking!" So saying Lovel pointed in the direction of the sound,--toward the door of the chancel at the west end of the building, where a carved window let in a flood of moonlight upon the floor. Two human figures detached themselves from the darkness and advanced. The lantern which one of them carried gleamed pale in the bright moonlight. It was evident in a moment by their motions that they could not be officers searching for Lovel. As they approached nearer, the beggar recognised the two figures as those of Dousterswivel and Sir Arthur. Lovel was about to retreat, but a touch on the arm from the old Blue-Gown convinced him that his best course was to remain quiet where he was. In case of any alarm, there was always the passage behind, and they could gain the shelter of the wood long before any pursuit would be possible. Dousterswivel was evidently making some proposition about which Sir Arthur was uncertain.