If one could slay one's child and bring him to life again after an appropriate interval many of us might be tempted to infanticide. A great flame of anger and shame rose to Elinor's cheek; but Neville came to her assistance. "Nay, little landlord," he said coolly, "no husband of thy mother could bear thy crest. 'Tis for thee, as the only heir in this generation, to bear it worthily before the world. Mistress Brent, is the ceremony ended?" "Ay, and most happily," said Mary, nervously, struggling between desire to laugh and cry; "let us have in the cake and wine." The servants went out to fetch the great trays of oaken wood with rim and handles of silver which had been in the Brent family for generations. As they re-entered in procession,--for Mary Brent dearly loved form and ceremony, and kept it up even here in the wilderness,--a knock was heard at the iron-studded door. Being flung open it revealed the figure of a man, a tall, slender man with Saxon flaxen hair and true blue eyes. "Mistress Brent?" he said questioningly, looking from Mary to Elinor. "I am she," said Mary, stepping forward and holding out her hand with even more than her usual warmth of hospitality. "Can I be of service to you?" "The question is, rather, are you willing to allow my claim upon your far-famed hospitality?" "I think it has never yet been denied any one." "I believe it well, but perhaps no one ever yet claimed it who lay under such a shadow. If you consent in your goodness to shelter a traveller, you must know that you are harboring the brother of Richard Ingle." Mary Brent started, for her brother had confided to her Richard Ingle's treasonable speeches, and in her eyes treason ranked next to blasphemy among the unpardonable sins. For an instant she hesitated and half withdrew her hand, then stretching it out again she looked full at him and said,-- "'Twere a pity frank truth-telling like yours should cost you dear. Let me ask but one question, Do you hold with your brother in his treason?" A pained look came into Ralph Ingle's eyes. "Lady," he said, "'tis a hard matter to hear or speak evil of one's brother--one's only brother." His lip trembled, but the voice rang clear and steady. "Yet when the time comes to choose between brotherly affection and one's duty to King and Commonwealth, the knot must be cut though the blood flows. So I told Richard yesterday, there on the deck of _The Reformation_, and hereafter we have sworn to forget that the same father called us both son." "You speak like a true man," said Mary Brent, "and shall be taken at your word. You find us celebrating the tenancy of Sir Christopher Neville yonder, who is taking up land of Mistress Calvert and her son. "Elinor, this is Master Ingle. Judge him on his deeds--not his name!" Ingle swept the ground with the plumes of his hat before Elinor as he murmured,-- "Nay, rather judge me of your own gentleness, and let mercy temper the verdict."