"Thy brother? then thou art Petronella!" cried Cherry, in a maze of bewilderment; and even as she spoke the name she felt Petronella's arms about her, and they were laughing and kissing, questioning and exclaiming, all in the most incoherent fashion, yet contriving to make each other understand some fragments of their respective stories, till at last Petronella drew herself away and laid her hand on Cherry's arm, saying as she did so: "But remember that here I am Ellen Wyvern, and not even good Dyson knows more than that. Be on thy guard, good coz, and only speak familiarly to me in secret. O Cherry, how I have longed to see thee--Cuthbert's Cherry, of whom I have heard so much! And how comest thou hither? Has he sent thee?" "He? I have not seen him these six months past. Petronella, sweet cousin, give me good news of him." "Why, so I can--the very best. He has found the treasure. It is safely lodged here. And he has gone forth into the forest again, first to tell the tale to the gipsy queen, who has been his friend through all, and then to return to London to thy father's house to seek his Cherry once again, and claim her hand before all the world." Chapter 21: The Gipsy's Warning. "Thy task is done, and it is well done. But now get thee from the forest with all speed, for there is peril to thee here." So said Joanna, standing before Cuthbert in the pixies' dell, her hand upon the low stone wall, her tall figure drawn up to its full height. She had been looking thoughtfully down into the sparkling water, which was now filling the well as of old, whilst Cuthbert told his tale with graphic power. An expression of calm triumph was on her face as she heard how the long-lost hoard was lying safely stored within the house of the Wyverns--a house sacred to the gipsies and safe from any raids of robbers, such was the esteem in which that name was held. She looked like one whose task is done, who feels a heavy load lifted from the mind; but the glance fixed upon Cuthbert's eager face was also one of gravity and meaning. "The forest is no place for thee now," she said; "get thee hence as fast as thou canst." "And wherefore so?" asked Cuthbert, surprised. "Methought the peril ceased with the death of--" "Hush!" said the gipsy, almost sternly; "bethink thee that there may be listeners even now about us in these thick bushes, and guard thy words with caution. Remember the strange links that bind together those of the wild gipsy blood; and remember that Long Robin lies in his bloody grave not far from here." She lowered her voice as she spoke, and Cuthbert instinctively followed her example. "But no man knows that." "How canst thou tell?" "None saw the deed. It was done in the dead of night. Ere morning came he was laid below the earth. Thou thyself knew not what had befallen him till I spoke the word."