"As for Crowe," she said, "'tis Arthur his house, not mine; and to me all places be nigh alike. I set some seeds that I looked to see come up this next spring; but that is all I have to lose, save an old gown or twain, and the like. And," added she, turning away her head, "they will not harm what alone I care for--my dead." On the Sunday morning came Dickon, Dr Thorpe's man, with a message from his master, desiring that all should be ready to set out by five o'clock on the following morning. "Bodmin," said he, "was plainly ill at ease: men gathered together in knots in the streets, and the like, with all manner of rumours and whisperings about; and if they were to go, go they must." "But Tom is not yet back," said Isoult. It was settled, however, that it would not do to wait for him; but to their relief, two or three hours before the time fixed for starting, Tom came. He brought letters from Mr Monke to John, and from Lady Frances to Isoult; but he arrived alone. Mr Monke thanked them heartily for their loving care, and would readily undertake to warn Wynscote and Combe; but he declined to join them. Potheridge was well fortified with walls and moat; and he had seven able-bodied men-servants, and double the number of tenants, who could be called within at a few minutes' notice: the house was well provisioned, and his armoury equipped: and he ended his letter by saying,--"My trust is in God. You do well to go; yet methinks I do as well to abide." "Metrusteth all shall be well," said Isoult, with a sigh; "yet if I might have known how it should be with them, I had gone with an heart the lighter." "A wilful man," responded Philippa; "let him be." Lady Frances said in her letter, "Dear heart, God is not gone from Devon. Fear not for us, only pray; and wheresoever we be, and howsoever, let us abide in Him." At last the preparations were completed. Simon and Marian Pendexter had been installed in office, with orders to write in a month: three sumpter mules were laden with the family luggage: and the last farewells were taken. The party mounted their horses. First rode John Avery on Bayard, with his wife behind him on the pillion; then, on Blanche, a white mare, came Ursula, with Kate strapped before her; on the black farm mare, which had no particular name, rode Tom, with Barbara behind, and Walter before him; and lastly, on a wiry white nag, came Robin, with Philippa on the pillion. So they moved slowly away from the home which, for aught they knew, they might never see again. It was a trial which cost Isoult Avery many tears. Barbara, too, wept; but no one else, only when Philippa spoke, it was in that short, constrained manner with which some people hide sorrow. Little Kate was in high glee, until she saw her mother weep; and then she looked grave and thoughtful--for about ten minutes.