"Trouble not thyself, Master Jeffreys; I shall do my business the better by coming in to quicken thine. Follow me; I am in the habit of entering this house without going through the ceremony of knocking." Saying this, the forester lifted the latch and stood aside for his companion to cross the threshold first. A sound of singing came from the kitchen. "A pretty bird in a pretty cage," said Jeffreys. "E'en so," commented Morgan; "thine eyes and ears are passably good for a townsman. Pardon me leaving thee for a moment." Morgan strode off kitchenwards. There was a sudden, "La, Jack! thou dost look like a feast day. Mind the flour!" After that Jeffreys always declared that he heard the sound of a vigorous kiss. Silence followed; then excited whisperings; then a scamper of light feet; and Morgan returned and ushered his waiting companion into the parlour. "Captain Dawe is down by the river," he said; "Mistress Dorothy will be with us anon." "And the pretty bird that sang in the kitchen over the flour tub?" "Was Mistress Dorothy." "Thy sleeve is whitened, Master Morgan." Johnnie coolly brushed away the tell-tale smudge. "Women always smother a room up on baking-day," he replied. Dorothy came in. "This is Sir Walter's man, who hath a packet for thee.--Master Jeffreys, this is Mistress Dawe." Dorothy curtsied, and the messenger bowed. "Never had long journey so pretty and pleasant an ending," he said. "Here is a packet from my master, the gallant knight Sir Walter Raleigh. I am to take back an answer." Dorothy took the packet, blushing at the sight of the pretty ribbons wherewith it was tied. "I am honoured indeed," she murmured; "pray you be seated, fair sir." Chapter XVI. TO LONDON TOWN. The packet that Master Jeffreys handed to Dorothy was too large and too heavy for a mere missive; and the maid, recalling some jocular promises of Raleigh's, at once suspected that some London gew-gaw lay snug within, and tore off the wrappings with eager fingers. Her hopes were not disappointed, and a dainty pair of silver shoebuckles shone in the sunlight. "Dear heart alive! surely they are not for me," cried Dolly. "Read the letter, mistress," said Jeffreys. A knot of blue ribbon was the only seal on the knight's letter, and the blushing maiden opened and read; and, as she read, the rich colour of her cheeks grew ever richer and deeper, and Johnnie pulled his cap-feather to pieces and watched her. She finished, sighed, looked at her lover and at the writer's messenger, then, with a "By your leave, Master Jeffreys," she handed the missive to Johnnie. "Read," she said. "Nay, why should I?" was the somewhat sheepish response. "Because I wish it," said Dolly promptly. "I am bad at reading script; each one hath too much of his own fashion in the twists and curls of the letters." "This is as plain as Bible print. Art going to London?" "No!" Dolly's face fell. "Hath not Master Jeffreys given thee Sir Walter's message?"