But what a boisterously glad reunion was there when, upon Sir Richard halloaing out his name, the hut door was unbarred and set open! "By the mass, Sir Richard, but it doth mightily comfort me to clap eyes again upon thee ... eh! Weak as I am, boy, I'd have given yon miscreant somewhat of a battle ... eh. But Isabel would e'en padlock the door and thrust key in her bosom ... didst thou not, Dame de Claverlok? But tell me, Sir Richard, where hast thou been the while?" By way of an answer Sir Richard went back and fetched Rocelia out of the fog cloud; whereupon the two maids fell into a rapturous embrace, shedding some happy tears whilst Sir Richard made haste to explain to de Claverlok the case in which they stood. "Certes, boy, and I can procure thee a priest," shouted de Claverlok, responding to a whispered question in his ear. Then; "Thomas! Thomas!" he bellowed; "post you hot-foot to the goodman who tied us a fine knot the week gone. Speed! Avaunt, boy! Have him here within the hour's quarter on your horse's back.... Begone!" "They'll be after thee ... God! but they'll not let thee get free of their king-making clutches, an they can help. We'll be ready to journey coast-ward, Sir Richard, when the ceremony is over." Happily, the foot-boy returned soon with the monk, whom de Claverlok and the rest succeeded in persuading to do office at Rocelia's and Sir Richard's wedding, placating him with a promise of another ceremony more in keeping with the dignity of the Church when they should have arrived at Bretagne. Besides requiting him quite handsomely for that day's services, they paid him to have masses said for the dead doctor outside; providing as well for a fitting burial of his body. It set in to rain before the company of six was ready to start for Glasgow. As there had been even now too much precious time consumed, they decided to brave the weather and be at once upon their way. To their journey's end it was but something above five leagues, but the heavy roads made the going a slow and difficult task. By stretching a tent-cloth over a rude frame, upheld by four poles, the foot-boys contrived for Isabel and Rocelia a passing shelter from the rain, which was by now pelting hard and steadily against the helmets of Sir Richard and de Claverlok. They had ridden after this cumbrous fashion near half the distance when Sir Richard thought he heard the dull rumbling of a carriage to their rear. Adventuring the hazard of a hidden bog, the party turned aside and rode upon the moor till they had set an impenetrable curtain of mist between themselves and the highway. Leaving his horse in Harold's keeping the young knight crept back, stationing himself behind a thick clump of gorse growing by the roadside.