Joyce did as he told her, but, after straining her eyes for a few moments, she said: "I can't see anything, it is so dark. I don't know where we are. Oh, I don't know!" "You are safe with me," Gilbert said; and then added, fervently: "I am not afraid for God is with us." It was so unusual for Joyce to hear that Name spoken. She did not respond, but let her head fall upon his shoulder again. Presently he said: "There is a tiny light now--two lights--they must be in the shepherd's cottage. Take heart, my darling. We shall soon be home." The word had slipped from his lips unawares. "I am going away early to-morrow. You will not forget me?" Once more she raised her face, and in the dim light he saw her beautiful eyes gazing at him with an expression which was half wonder and half joy. But she said, simply: "No, I will never forget you." The light was close to them now, and there was a sound of men's feet drawing nearer and then Duke came bounding up. With a cry of "Father! father!" Joyce struggled to her feet, and threw herself into her father's arms. "Why, Joyce, my Sunshine, where have you been? We have been very anxious, your mother on thorns, and poor Piers imagining all kinds of disasters. Why did you not keep up with the boys? They had been at home an hour before I started. What has happened sir?" the squire said, turning a little sharply on Gilbert Arundel. "It is too long a story to tell now, sir," Gilbert said. "Miss Falconer and I fell into bad hands, and we may thank God nothing worse has happened." "Some of the miners, eh?" "One of them, sir, who is a host in himself; he blocked our way, and threatened us; but I would rather not go over it all now. She is so overwrought, though she has been so splendidly brave." "Oh! father, dearest dad! take me home," Joyce said. "Is it far; is it far?" "Some two miles, my Sunshine; but I can carry you. Now for it, be brave, my sweet one, and we shall soon be home. Now, then, Sam and Thomas, march on." "I think I can walk, father now," Joyce said; "and here is Duke, dear Duke!" "Why, of course, I brought Duke. He is cleverer at finding his way than I am. He soon snuffed you out, good old fellow." The two other men now turned towards home, with the big lanthorns in their hands, which served for guiding stars. Duke paced slowly between the men, and his master and young mistress, and Gilbert brought up the rear. The lights of the village were a welcome sight, and the hall door of Fair Acres was open as they came up the road, showing a group of dark, expectant figures, thrown out by the blaze of a wood fire. "The mistress has lit a fire that we might have a welcome; that is like her wisdom," the squire said. "A few tallow candles would not have been half as cheerful." "Here we are; here we are!" the squire called out; and then there was a rush of boyish feet, and a great chorus of rejoicing, and a host of questions.