"We have known it for some time," said Hugh. "We shall wait till he comes, and ask him if he has room for us. If he says he has not, we must go somewhere on our own hook. We want no more from him, Aline, than anyone else, but it would be less lonesome if he were our friend." "The old nest will soon be deserted," said Aline, looking round on us. "I shall be like the wood-pigeon we saw last summer after the hawk had eaten her mate and the young ones, and she used to call them about the empty nest." "The hawk is the world, Aline," I said, "but the world shall not swallow us. We shall be with you, and the boys will return." "Ah, yes!" said Aline, "they will return, perhaps." She got up suddenly and went out of the room, and after a little while, when we went to look for her we found she had gone to her room for the night. We went to bed somewhat melancholy in consequence, and I think Esther and I were glad to have each other's company. With the night the wind had risen, and as we went along the corridors to our bedrooms it raved and shrieked outside, and whistled through every key-hole as though it were trying to drown the noise of the thunder. We scurried fast along the upper floor, for the lightning made the well of the staircase as light as day with its almost incessant flashing, and the ragged tapestry on the walls trailed out like banners, and flapped in our faces as we passed by. When we had reached my room at last, I ran to draw the curtains and shut out the night. Very vividly in the white lightning I saw the sister mountains of Brandon and Angry, for now that the trees were leafless the latter showed its frowning head. I paused an instant to gaze at them, and as I did so the lightning passed, leaving a gulf of profound blackness. The side of Castle Angry was towards us as we stood, and I could see the flashing of a light travelling apparently from floor to floor. "Come, Esther, and look," I said. "There is a light in Angry. I wonder how they are feeling over there about the escape of the captive." Esther looked with me an instant, and then cried to me to come away, for a zigzag of blue lightning smote the head of Angry, and then seemed to leap down the chasm. As the thunder rattled and roared behind it, I closed the shutters and then stirred the fire, so that the room was cheerful. We went to bed after praying for the poor people who were in danger from the night's storm. We lay awake for long talking of our own affairs, and of the boys and their resolution. Esther was the first to sleep. I looked at her where she lay in the shadow, smiling in sleep--for I had kept a lamp burning to mitigate the glare of the lightning,--and I thanked God for the peace the events of the last twenty-four hours had brought to my sister's heart. Mine, too, felt at peace about her and her love. I remember thinking, the last thing before I slept, that God was stronger than Sir Rupert De Lacy, and the thought sent me asleep smiling.