"Marry you did!" said the Captain of the Wight, glancing at his companion; and adding, in a voice not intended for Ralph’s ear,--"Fair knight, we shall have to take care that thy gentle companion doth not spoil our island of its comeliest damoiselle." As Ralph rode across the courtyard, he met Humphrey, who was astonished to see his young master riding forth so late, for the sun was just setting, and the gates were shut for the night; but Ralph with great pride told him, he was riding forth in all haste on the business of the Captain, and the worthy varlet shared in his young master’s importance. At the sight of the pass given to Ralph by Sir John Trenchard, the captain of the guard ordered the gates to open, and the heavy rattle of the chains showed that the drawbridge was being let down, and in another moment Ralph rode out into the glorious light of the after-glow which illumined all the sky to the west. With a light heart he heard the heavy drawbridge creak up again, and, rejoicing in his freedom, he put spurs to his horse and rode fast over the hill, away towards the distant downs to the south. His horse was fresh, and, under Ralph’s light weight, cantered swiftly along. He knew the way, or at least thought he did, and took no notice of objects; his mind was full of the approaching tilt, and his one idea was how he could obtain leave from Lord Woodville to let him splinter a lance. And so he cantered on in the ever-increasing gloom, not seeing how dim it was growing, or how damp a mist from the sea was drifting down the valley. The few roads that went through the island were bad in the most frequented parts, but in the cross tracks over the downs to the back of the island they were little more than muddy quagmires in wet weather, and ruts hard as rock in fine. Ralph galloped past Gatcombe, belonging to the Bremshotts, the last male of which family was then very old, and his lands were about to pass away to other names. Little did Ralph know that he was passing what once had belonged to his ancestors, and how that fair manor had come down, through three successive ladies, from the Fitz Stuar to the Lisles, and thence, in the female line, to the Bremshotts, whose daughters again would share it with the Dudleys and the Pakenhams. He breathed his horse up the steep slope that led past Chillerton Down, and as he descended on the further side, he first felt how damp was the night air, and noticed how difficult it was to find his way. Mindful, however, of his lord’s injunction to make all the speed he could, he urged his horse to a reckless pace, and it was not until he had ridden for another half-hour that he began to be anxious as to his whereabouts. The air seemed much keener than it had been, and there was a salt freshness in it, that ought to have told him he must be near the sea. Could he have mistaken his way? There was no building he could see anywhere, and the track had entirely ceased. Ralph got off his horse to