"You have met Miss Lincoln before to-day? Yes--Miss Windsor told me so." "Yes; I have seen her several times at Arundel House." "Her father is a good man, Dacre. How will he regard our revolution?" "As we regarded his, no doubt--as a crime." "God!" thought Geoffrey, pacing the floor, "how strange that two men so noble as these should look upon each other as traitors and enemies!" "Were it not for Richard Lincoln the Monarchy would have been restored ten years ago. He is a powerful supporter of his class," said Dacre, slowly. "Dacre!" said Geoffrey, stopping in front of him, "it is we who are class men. Richard Lincoln is a patriot!" Dacre leaned his chin on the old sword, and looked silently into the fire. "What will you do with such men as he, should this revolution succeed?" continued Geoffrey. "They will never submit." "They must," said Dacre, with compressed lips, "or--" The sentence was left unspoken. Geoffrey saw it was no use to argue. He had cast in his lot with Dacre, and there could be no drawing back. "Stay with me to-night," said Geoffrey, as his friend was buttoning his coat. "Reynolds has prepared a room for you." "No; I must see Featherstone, who returns to London early to-morrow. I should like to see you later in the day. I shall come here, I think." "Yes; it is quiet here. Well, let me walk with you as far as the end of the cliff." And lighting their cigars the two men struck across the field, Geoffrey having ordered old Reynolds to go to bed. Mrs. Oswald Carey waited till the old man had left the kitchen and retired. Then she came from her hiding-place and at one glance saw what she wanted--the list of conspirators, which Geoffrey had laid open on the table. Her keen sense of hearing had followed this paper as if it were visible to her eyes, and she knew that it had not been returned to Dacre. With a firm hand she seized the document, and the next moment she had left the room, closing the two doors behind her. She kept close to the wall as she circled the lodge to the lower path, and then she started on a rapid walk for Ripon House. As Geoffrey returned he was thinking of the list, and he looked for it, with something of alarm at its absence. When he realized that it was gone he walked through the kitchen and called up Reynolds. "Were you in the room since I went out?" he asked. "No, my lord." "Is there any one else in the house?" "No, my lord." "Has there been any one else here to-night?" The old man hesitated before he answered this time. "No, my lord; no one has been here." Geoffrey had not the slightest reason to doubt the faithful old man, but had asked the questions for reassurance. As he retired for the night, or rather morning, he said to himself that Dacre had no doubt taken the document, which was too precious and too dangerous to be left in any other hands. CHAPTER VII. A FOUR-IN-HAND AND ONE IN THE BUSH.