Lord Broke forwarded very favourable reports of the young esquire, and also strong recommendations to mercy on behalf of Sir George Lisle, who, seeing how hopeless were the aims of the Yorkist party, and conscious of the treachery that was going on within their ranks,--weary of the world, and sick at heart of his conduct towards his wife, as well as of his unjust suspicions of the Captain of the Wight, determined, if his life were spared, to become a monk, like an ancestor of his who had founded, and himself became the first arch-priest of, the little Oratory of Barton. Lord Broke, knowing this resolve, mentioned it as a further inducement to obtaining the royal pardon. However, on the arrival of the ship at Southampton, Sir George Lisle was taken at once to Winchester Castle, and kept there a close prisoner of state until the royal pleasure was known. Magdalen Lisle was not allowed to be with her father. Ralph promised he would take her to her grandfather at Briddlesford; and the same day that Sir George Lisle was carried off under a strong guard to Winchester, he and his cousin sailed for Wootton Creek. The news of the arrival of the only survivors of the expedition caused much stir, and Ralph found himself a greater hero than he had any wish to be. Fortunately for him it was expected he would come to Newport, and so he was enabled to reach Briddlesford unmolested. He dreaded the meeting with his relatives, as indeed he would have avoided, had it been possible, coming to the island at all. So many painful memories would be stirred by the sight of the sorrow-stricken people; but he had his duty to perform, and must go through with it. His meeting with old Sir William was easily got over. The old knight welcomed him heartily, and was evidently prepared to take to his grandchild Magdalen. Ralph was rejoiced to see this, for he had rather feared a stern reception for the poor desolate child, who had seen so much hardship in her young life, and had had so little of the pleasures of youth. However, events had occurred of which Ralph knew nothing. After the greetings were over, and Magdalen felt a little less strange, the old man said,-- "Now, my son, thou must see Yolande; she is awaiting thee in the parlour yonder." Ralph passed across the hall, and paused at the door of the little room. He tapped timidly. A low voice answered "Come in," and Ralph entered. He found his cousin sitting in a deep window-seat, the last glow of the setting sun streaming in through the narrow quarries of ill-made glass. The autumn tints were already blending with the still deep green of the thick oak woods. Along the valley the evening mist was rising, and the knell of the Abbey bell came deep sounding over the hills and water between. "Ralph, my brave cousin, welcome back home," said the low sweet voice of Yolande.