“It is a party of travellers,” he said carelessly; and then changing his tone, “’tis Sir William Carew of Mohun’s Ottery, that young coxcomb Raby, and a woman--a handsome one at that,” he added with an oath. The wizard, who was watching him as a cat watches a mouse, smiled maliciously. “Is it a young maid?” he asked, “tall and fine-shaped as Diana, with red cheeks and great brown eyes that sparkle and change at every glance, and with hair like the raven’s wing?” “You have made a fair description,” the tall man replied, “but, by heaven, you cannot do her justice! She is muffled up, but I saw her face as she came in, and she’s a beauty.” The wizard laughed again so wickedly that Sir Barton turned on him. “Thou grinning devil!” he said; “what is sticking in thy gullet?” “’Tis retribution, sir,” Sanders said coolly; “you discarded a penniless betrothed. Penniless she is, but marvellous fair.” An expression of amazement tinged with superstitious dread came over his companion’s face. “How in the fiend’s name do you track men out?” he asked. The wizard pointed upward. “The stars, noble sir,” he answered meekly; “my poor art.” “Who is this beauty?” Sir Barton demanded sharply; “you know well enough.” “Ay, I know,” replied Sanders, calmly; “no velvet-tempered kitten, either. ’Tis Sir William’s niece, the daughter of that rake, Sir Thomas.” Sir Barton, uttering an exclamation of profane surprise, opened the door and walked into the public room, leaving the wizard alone in the little closet. Sir William Carew was talking with the host, while in a retired corner, near the entrance, stood Mistress Betty, and beside her, Master Raby. The young girl’s mantle was muffled about her shoulders, but her hood had fallen back a little, revealing enough of the face beneath to draw the attention of many of the guests. But she was so busily engaged in talking to her companion that she was unconscious of the admiring glances cast in her direction. A servant had brought some hot drinks for the party and would have set a table for them, but this Sir William refused, saying that he was pressed for time. Sir Barton walked up to him, to be received in no very friendly fashion, Carew’s greeting indicating plainly that he desired no company upon the road. After an ineffectual attempt at conversation, the other drew back haughtily, but stood watching Mistress Betty, until the persistency of his gaze attracted the attention of her cavalier, who moved between, giving the offender a hard glance that was intended to teach him better manners. It was returned in kind, the two men looking defiance at each other over the heads of those who sat at the tables. In a few moments, however, Sir William led his party out again to resume their journey. As Raby helped Betty into the saddle, he saw the tall man standing on the threshold of the inn.