That sound repose lasted far into the afternoon of the next day. The Manor House was kept quiet by the master's order, lest word or foot-fall should waken the young knight out of season. He left his chamber, on Andrew's arm, as the tall clock on the landing of the staircase struck four. "Ha! you look like a new man!" exclaimed Gilbert; "your color has come back; your eye sparkles like a live coal!" Seated at the table in the dining-room, the master showed that, while his guest had slept, he had not been careless for his welfare. In the first place, the trustworthy servants of the Manor had been solemnly informed of the situation at morning prayers, and each one pledged to secrecy and assistance. "And when do you think that I can proceed eastward to the sea-coast?" asked Lord Geoffry, anxiously. "Within three weeks, I trust," replied the master--"not before. Inside of that time I shall have marked out your route for you, and started you in loyal hands upon it from one shelter to the other. In the meantime, you must abide here with us plain folk of Windlestrae. I am glad to say that we have heard no more of Danforth to-day." Nor came there any such unwelcome tidings. The day passed quietly, each hour benefiting Lord Armitage in body and spirit. The second night that he slept under the Manor's roof was spent as tranquilly as the first. His strength and vivacity were doubled by it. The next few days he did nothing but eat and sleep, or, shut up for the most part within the comfortable Purple Chamber, talk with Andrew and Boyd or Mistress Annan of his travels and hardships. The rest and a sense of security did him worlds of good, and he grew more entertaining and full of merriment each hour of it. "I never saw such a fellow!" Gilbert remarked once to Mistress Annan. "One would think that he were at ease and freedom in some court, instead of in daily danger of a hanging! What a careless, happy temper! Hearken to him, laughing this minute with my lad, as though he had never a trouble in the world!" "And I am na sorry for it, sir," Mistress Annan stoutly responded; "'tis o' God's favor that his heart is sae licht! Wad ye hae the puir man gae roun' wi' the shadow o' the gibbet in front o' his twa bonny eyes?" Mistress Annan, in truth, was quite bewitched with Lord Geoffry's engaging glances and his gay tongue. Both Andrew and his father observed one thing--how little the young exile spoke of England; of his home there, or of the Lowland life and cities. But he explained this one morning by confessing that he had lived most of his life in Paris, his only brother, Guy, looking after the family estate.