"What can be done?" said Aunt Dorothy. "How can it be that we have not heard from my brother or Dr. Antony? The king's forces must be between us and Oxford, and the letters must have been seized. But never fear, Rachel," she added, in a consoling tone. "At first they talked of treating all the Parliament prisoners as traitors; but that will never be. A ransom or an exchange is certain. Stay here to-night; it will be less lonely for you. We can take counsel together; and to morrow we will think what to do." "I have been thinking, Mistress Dorothy; and I have taken counsel. I am going at day-break to-morrow to Oxford; and I came to ask if I could do aught for you, or take any message to Master Roger." "How?" said Aunt Dorothy. "And who will go with you? Who will venture within the grasp of those plunderers?" "I have not asked any one, Mistress Dorothy. I am going alone on our own old farm-horse." "You travel scores of miles alone, and into the midst of the king's army, Rachel!" said Aunt Dorothy. "I have taken counsel, Mistress Dorothy," said Rachel calmly, and, looking up, Aunt Dorothy met that in Rachel's quiet eyes which she understood, and she made no further remonstrance. "We will write letters to Roger," she said, after a pause. In a short time they were ready, with one from me to Lettice Davenant. Neither my Aunts nor I slept much that night. We were revolving various plans for helping Rachel, each unknown to the other. I had thought of a letter to a friend of my Father's who lived half-way between us and Oxford, and rising softly in the night, without telling any one, I wrote it. For I had removed to Roger's chamber while he was away; it seemed to bring me nearer to him. Then, before daybreak, feeling sure Rachel would be watching for the first streaks of light, I crept out of our house to hers. She was dressed, and was quietly packing up the great Bible which lay always on the table, and laying it in the cupboard. "Happy Rachel!" I said, kissing her; "to be old enough to dare to go." "There is always some work, sweetheart," said she, "for every season, not to be done before or after. That is why we need never be afraid of growing old." I gave her my letter. She took it gratefully; but she said-- "Too fine folks for a plain body like me, Mistress Olive. God bless you for the thought. But in one village I must pass there is a humble godly man who has oft tarried with us for a night, and has expounded the word to us, and no doubt he will give me a token to another. And if not, the seven thousand are always known to the Lord. The prophet Elijah, indeed, did not know; but after he was told about it once for all, none of us ought ever to say again, 'I only am left alone.'" "But how will you manage when you get to Oxford?" I said.