"Hush, hush!" she answered, somewhat gravely; "I can think of nothing now but my poor sister; and you must not, Sir Edward, by one compliment, or fine speech--nay, nor by one kind speech either," she added, laying her hand upon his arm, and looking up in his face, with a glowing cheek--"for I know you mean it as kind--you must not, indeed, throw any embarrassment over an intercourse, which is necessary at present, and which is my only hope and resource, in the circumstances in which we are placed. So now tell me what you are going to do; for you seemed, but now, as if you were about to set out somewhere." "I am going to Woodchurch instantly," replied Digby. "Sir Henry Leyton must be there still----" "Sir Henry Leyton!" exclaimed Zara; "then he has, indeed, been a successful campaigner." "Most successful, and most deservedly so," answered his friend. "No man but Wolfe won more renown; and if he can but gain this battle, Leyton will have all that he desires on earth. But I will not stay here, skirmishing on the flanks, dear lady, while the main body is engaged. I will ride over as fast as possible, see Leyton, consult with him, and be back, if possible, by dinner time. If not, you must tell your father not to wait for me, as I was suddenly called away on business." "But how shall I know the result of your expedition?" demanded Zara; "we shall be surrounded, I fear, by watchful eyes." "We must trust to fortune and our own efforts to afford us some means of communication," replied Digby. "But remember, dearest lady, that for this great object, you have promised to cast away all reserve. For the time, at least, you must look upon Edward Digby as a brother, and treat him as such." "That I will!" answered the fair girl, heartily; and Digby, leaving her to explain their conduct to her aunt as she best might, ordered his horse, and rode away towards Woodchurch, in haste. Pulling in his rein at the door of the little inn, he inquired which was Sir Henry Leyton's room, and was directed up stairs; but on opening the door of the chamber which had been pointed out, he found no one in it, but the somewhat strange-looking old man, whom we have once before seen with Leyton, at Hythe. "Ah, Mr. Warde, you here!" exclaimed Sir Edward Digby. "Leyton told me you were in England. But where is he? I have business of some importance to talk with him upon;" and as he spoke, he shook the old man's hand warmly. "I know you have," answered Mr. Warde, gazing upon him--"at least, I can guess that such is the case.--So have I; and doubtless the subject is the same." "Nay, I should think not," refilled Digby; "mine refers only to private affairs." The old man smiled; and that sharp featured, rude countenance assumed an expression of indescribable sweetness: "Mine is the same," he said. "You come to speak of Edith Croyland--so do I."