Hugh Dalton and Robin Hays had hastily proceeded to Cecil Place, discoursing, as they went along, upon the probable consequences of their friend's arrest. Bitterly did the Buccaneer comment upon the rashness and impetuosity so frequently evinced by De Guerre.

"It is perfectly useless," he said, "attempting to curb these boy heroes! the rushing blood must have its way until arrested by age, not wisdom; the hot head must be cooled by the ice of time, and not till then will the arguments or experience of others be regarded as they merit."

"It is Burrell, I fear," retorted Robin; "there is but one hope in that quarter—he cannot know him."

"But he may hear."

"How?"

"God knows; only I have ever observed that the keenness of such men exceeds that of better and wiser ones."

"Ay, ay," said Robin; "but we must sharpen our wits in due proportion: though, at present, I suspect it is arms we shall want. I know the room well, and there is a lot of creeping ivy and such plants under the window; the greatest difficulty will be with the iron stanchions."

"The greatest difficulty, methinks, will be to escape from the arrester; and you seem to think nothing of the danger I run in trusting myself within the grasp of such a man."

"The Cavalier is worth all risks."

"I know it, Robin. Did I ever shrink from peril in such a cause?"

"Faith, no!" replied the other with his usual chuckle; "if God had willed you to be born a snail, you would have crept out of your house, so careless are you in all things."

"Do you think there is aught of danger for Barbara?" said the Buccaneer, his manner clearly showing that, if he did not care for himself, there was something he did care for.

"If she is timid as a hare," replied Robin, "she is, as a hare, heedful and light-footed; no fear for her. How your heart clings to her, Captain!"

"So it does; and yet some strange shadow comes over me when I think of her—as if I knew she would despise, perhaps hate me—she has been brought up in such strict principles; still, I would not have her less right-minded."

He paused, and they proceeded silently on their way, Dalton pondering on the best method of procuring De Guerre's liberty, and then thinking of his sweet and gentle child.

Nature may lie buried or be stifled for a time—an apathetic temperament will seek to smother, a harsh one to bind, a strong one to subdue it—but it overcomes them all; and though a man's speech may run according to his learning, and his deeds according to his habits, yet nature thinks and speaks within him, often in direct opposition to the words that fall from his lips, and the actions in which he may be engaged. Thus it was with the Buccaneer; despite the fearful course his outlawed life had taken, the remembrance of his child would arise to his imagination, shaded by sorrow, or sunned by happiness, according to his mood of mind—but always as his child—the being upon whom his very existence seemed to hang.

"There is little light from his window," said Robin, as they came within view of the house; "let us over the fencing.—Hush!" he continued, elevating his hand so as to command the attention of his companion, at the same time bending his ear to the earth. Dalton listened, but, it would seem, heard no sound, for he exclaimed hastily,—

"Hush me no hush!—you are ever fancying something or other out of the way."

Robin repeated the signal.

"What mummery!" said the Buccaneer; "I hear nothing, and see nothing."

Robin laid himself on the ground, while the impatient and irritated seaman fumed and moved about, a curse whizzing from between his teeth as ever and anon he looked at Robin, and from Robin to the house.

"If you must have employment," said the Ranger at last, in a low tone, "see to your arms. Are your pistols loaded muzzle high?—are your weapons sharp?—Hush!"

The Buccaneer knew that these hints were not given in wantonness, and calmly examined his fire-arms.

"The tramp of horses!" continued Robin, "and of heavy ones too; but they are going from, not coming towards us. Ah! heard ye not that?"

He raised himself from the ground, and the neigh of a horse was borne to them on the blast. They both stood in breathless silence, the Buccaneer with his hand suspended over, but not touching, his sword-handle—Robin with open mouth and extended hands, as if the very movement of his limbs could destroy the quietness around, or impede the sound they watched for. Again the neigh was repeated, but more faintly, and evidently from a greater distance.

"Safe from one at least," said Robin, jumping in ecstasy, but yet speaking in a subdued voice. "I would know the neigh of that black steed amid a thousand; its tone is like that of a trumpet, mightiest among its kind. I feel as if the weight of a hundred stone was off my heart—don't you?"

Dalton replied not, for he was fearlessly striding towards the house, not, as before, sneaking among the bushes.

"Let us to the window, Captain," said Robin.

"Not I," he replied. "What care I for any of them now? I shall demand Walter from Sir Robert."

"You are foolhardy. What can be done quietly, ought to be done quietly. If we cannot succeed so, why dare both Sir Robert and Sir Willmott?"

"I believe you are right, though I hate sailing on a lee-shore. The open, open sea, for my money! Hark ye! Cecil dare not refuse me this."

"Or any thing else, I suspect—though I know not why," replied Robin, as he commenced climbing by the creeping plants to the prison-window, beneath which they now stood. "How delighted he will be to see my ugly face, poor fellow!"

Robin continued muttering broken sentences all the while he ascended, having previously arranged with the Buccaneer that he was to remain below. "Ah! firm footing this old ivy. There, now we are up!—Master Walter! Master Walter!—He sleeps behind that screen, I warrant me, little thinking of his faithful friends. So, so! the rust has done its duty. Strong room! strong walls they mean; but what signify strong walls without strong windows?—Good! There goes another, and another—better still! And now——"

He entered the chamber, passed to the front of the screen, opened the large cupboard, cast his eyes upon the untrimmed lamp, and then perceived that the door was slightly ajar; but no vestige remained of Walter De Guerre, except his cloak, that was flung over the chair. His first movement was to close and bolt the door, and then call softly to the Buccaneer to ascend.

"He is gone!" exclaimed Robin with a trembling voice, as Dalton entered the room.

"Gone!" repeated the Skipper: "then is there treachery. My brave boy, that I loved as my own son! By Heavens! I'll rouse the house! Had it not been for my accursed plots, he would not have come over. I'll have him delivered up to me, did Sir Robert plan his destruction as skilfully as he plotted that of——"

Hugh was prevented from finishing his sentence by the sudden entrance of Sir Willmott Burrell, who appeared in the room they could not tell how, as the chair was still against the door, and there were no visible means of admission except by the window.

Dalton and the knight eyed each other with evident astonishment, but the fiery Buccaneer was the first to speak.

"And you are here, Sir Willmott! and for no good, or your face would not be so smooth, or your lip so smiling. Where, sir—where, I say—is your prisoner?"

"My prisoner, good Captain! I had no prisoner."

"Death and d—n! Sir Willmott, dare not to trifle with me. Where is the young man? where is Walter De Guerre? You know; you must know. Why come you here silently, secretly? Answer me, Sir Willmott Burrell. Where is the young man?"

"Captain Dalton," replied Sir Willmott, "although your anxiety about this malignant convinces me that you are not the man my friendship thought you, yet I confess that I came here for the express purpose of forwarding his escape. Doubt me if you will; but see, I am unarmed, and here is the secret key for unfastening the grating, which I suppose you, and my quondam servant, have so unceremoniously removed."

Dalton looked at him, and then at the key, which he took from his hand and scrupulously examined.

"Sir Willmott Burrell," he said, after a few moments' deliberation, "why did you this? You are not one to do an act of good—whatever you might of evil—for its own sake."

"Why?" repeated Burrell.

"Ay, why? Your motive, sir—your motive?"

"Motive? What motive had you for bringing over this fly-away Cavalier, and, when I questioned you, denying any knowledge of the youth?"

"Sir Willmott, my question was first asked, and must be first answered."

"Then, sir," replied Burrell, drawing himself up, "let it be enough that such was my pleasure. Now, Captain, your answer to my question."

"Your answer will save me the trouble," replied the Buccaneer, with as much height, if not as much dignity of manner. "Apply it in the same way."

"I must call you to account for this, as well as other matters; but now, think that considering who sleeps under this roof, it would be only wise to withdraw. It is somewhat upon my mind, despite your well-feigned surprise, that you have spirited away this fellow—if so——"

"Stuff, stuff!" interrupted the Buccaneer: "there has been here a stronger spirit at work than either yours or mine; and, as to calling me to account, you always know where I am to be found."

"I sought you there to-night on this very errand," replied the wily Sir Willmott, "but you were absent."

"Still I repeat, you know where to find me. And now for my parting words. Observe, I dread no meeting with any; you have more reason to tremble than I have, if all were known. But now—see that no harm happen to the Cavalier, who, but an hour since, occupied this chamber; for, by the God of heaven! if but a hair of his head fall to the earth, I will hunt you to your own destruction! Never tell me that you have no power, no control, over him or his destiny. All I say is,—see to it. It would be better that you had been drowned, like a blind kitten, at your birth, than that any harm happened to Walter De—De—De——" Dalton looked confused, then, recovering himself, he glanced a fierce look at Sir Willmott, and commenced his descent from the window, muttering, "Devil! I forgot his name; couldn't he have taken an English one? D—n all foreigners!" With this John-Bullish exclamation, which seems so natural to the natives of "Old England," the Skipper reached the ground. Nor was Robin long in following his example: he cared not to tarry Sir Willmott's questioning, and touched the earth sooner than his friend, inasmuch as he sprang down, when midway, with his usual agility.

They had not gone three steps on their path when Sir Willmott's voice arrested their progress.

"Hist, Dalton! hist!—here is the youth's cloak—put it on, good Dalton, the night is raw; here it goes. Well caught, Robin; make the Captain put it on; you can return it to the Cavalier when you see him, which you doubtless will, and soon—I entreat you put it on. The path by the lake leads straight to the Gull's Nest. I wish, Robin, you could tarry here till morning—I shall want you on business of importance."

Robin shook his head in denial. Dalton threw the cloak over his shoulder, and almost mechanically took the path that Burrell had pointed out. Sir Willmott immediately withdrew from the window. They had not gone more than a hundred yards when Robin looked back towards the house, and, by the light of the moon, caught a glimpse of the Master of Burrell, as if intent on their movements. He at the time took no notice of this to the Buccaneer, but they no sooner arrived at a spot where the branches of the trees overshadowed their path, than Robin plucked the cloak from the shoulders of his companion.

"Well, Robin!" exclaimed the Skipper in astonishment.

"It is not well," replied the manikin; "it cannot be well when the devil turns nurse-tender. He would not have been so careful of your health, if he thought your life would be of long duration. And why point out this path?—it is not the shortest; and if it were, what cares he for our legs? Wanting me to stay at the Place too—it's all ill. Besides, I saw him watching us from the window: why should he watch us? was it love, think ye? Go to, Master Dalton, you are not the man you were: let us strike into another path; I will be all ears and eyes, and do you keep your arms in readiness."

"You are right, Robin; you are right—right in one thing, at all events," replied Dalton, leaning his arm against a tree, and pressing his forehead with his hand; "I am not, indeed, the man I was! The lion spirit is yet within me; but, Robin, that spirit which never quailed to mortal authority, is become weak and yielding as a young girl's heart, to the still, but appalling voice of my own conscience. After every effort there is a re-action:—the blood!—the blood, shed through my instrumentality, and often by my own hand, rises before me, like a crimson cloud, and shuts out all that is pure and holy from my sight. It used not to be thus! My passions—my whirlwind passions, that carried me forward for so many years—are dead, or dying. It takes time to wind me up to a brave action:—my joints are stiffening, and crack within their sockets, when called upon to do their duty. The very good I would, I cannot! This Walter, whom I love next to my own Barbara—to find him in the lion's net! That Jewish girl I sought, merely to save her from yon hell-hound's grasp!—she unconsciously eludes my search; in some shape or other she will be sacrificed. I am sick—sick of villains and villany! With wealth enough to purchase lands, broader and fairer than these we now tread upon, I would thank God, night and day upon my bended knees, to make me as one of the poor hinds, who has not wherewith to purchase a morning meal—or as a savage—a wild untamed savage—who hunts the woods for food!"

"You'd do foolishly then, Captain; under favour, very foolishly," replied Robin, yielding to the Buccaneer's humour, and yet seeking to calm it away. "Know ye not that every rose has its own thorns, and every bosom its own stings? Besides," he continued, faintly, "the wealth you speak of will richly dower Barbara; make her a match for a gentleman, or mayhap a knight!"

"Did you say a gentleman? No, no, I will never marry her to one who would take her as so much ballast to her gold, and scorn her as the Rover's daughter."

"But you would scorn a poor man for her?"

"Blessed poverty!" exclaimed the sailor; "how would I hug it to my heart—make it joint partner with my child in my affections, if it would only bring a fair unspotted name in exchange for the gold it might take away. Blessed poverty!"

It would appear that Robin was too much occupied by his own feelings to be on the alert as usual; for Dalton was the first to perceive a man stealing along by the side of, but not on, the path they had quitted; he pointed him out to Robin's attention. In an instant the little Ranger commenced reconnoitring; and came back without delay, to tell the Captain that it was no other than Jack Roupall.

"Jack Roupall!" repeated Dalton, returning instantly to the path they had quitted, saying aloud at the same time, "Why, Jack, what sends you on this tack?"

Whether from some sudden tremor or astonishment, it cannot be ascertained, nor could the ruffian himself account for it, he discharged a pistol, evidently without aim, and Robin as instantly struck it from his hand.

It was this report that had so terrified Barbara. But there was another ear upon which it struck—in the solitude of that wild room in Cecil Place. It sent the blood rushing to his evil brain;—he clasped his hands in exultation; for the death-sound was to him the voice of security; and he prayed—(that such wretches are allowed to pray!)—that the bullet was at that moment wading in the life-stream of the Buccaneer.