"They would not easily find us here. I could lead them through such a labyrinth that they would not know which way to turn to get out." "You seem to know the forest well, daughter," said the bishop, in a good-humoured tone. "I fear me you have been fonder of rambling in the woods than conning dry lessons in the abbey of St. Clare." He spoke in a gay and kindly manner, which conveyed no reproof; but Iola blushed a little while she answered-- "Surely! My dear aunt has not been very severe with me; and every day, when the sun was bright and the skies blue, I have gone out--sometimes with my girl Alice, sometimes alone, sometimes on foot, sometimes on a mule, sometimes to bear a message to woodman or tenant, sometimes for pure idleness. And yet not pure idleness either, my lord; for I do not know why, but amidst these old trees and upon the top of the hill, where I catch a view of all the woods and fields and rivers below, bright and beautiful and soft, it seems as if my heart rose up to Heaven more lightly than under the vault of the chapel and amongst its tall columns of stone. Then sometimes I sit beneath a spreading oak, and look at its giant limbs, and compare them with the wild anemone that grows at its foot, and lose myself in musing over the everlasting variety that I see. But hark! those voices are very loud. They cannot be coming nearer, surely." "You are brave at a distance, daughter," said the bishop calmly; "but be not alarmed. They are only raised a little higher." "Oh, no," she answered; "I am no coward; and you would see, if they did come near, I should not lose my wits." Almost as she spoke, a voice exclaimed, in a one not very loud-- "Who goes there?" and Iola started, and laid her hand on the bishop's arm, as if to keep him back. "It is Boyd the woodman's voice, I think," she said in a whisper. "Slip in behind that great tree, and I will go on and see." "Who goes there?" repeated the voice again raised higher; and Iola, taking a step or two forward, demanded-- "Who is it that asks?" "Is that you, Lady Iola?" said the voice, as soon as the woman's tone was distinguished. "Yes," answered Iola. "Is it Boyd who speaks?" "The same," answered the woodman. "Have you brought him? Where is he? Is he safe?" "He is here, he is here," answered Iola. "Father, this is Boyd the woodman, in whom you can fully trust." "Ah, lady, lady," murmured the woodman, coming forward, "where is the man in whom you can fully trust?" Advancing towards him, Iola and the prelate found that he had been standing in a small open space at the angle of two roads, both of which led more or less directly to St. Magdalen's cell. The light on the spot was faint, but the woodman's tall and powerful figure was not to be mistaken; and, having resigned her charge to him, Iola turned to the prelate, saying, "Now I will go back as fast as possible, father."