"And maybe 'tis good for gentlemen as well," laughed Dorothy.

"It is the true elixir of life, for which the alchemysts labour in vain to find," exclaimed Manners. "Sir Benedict knows leechcraft, let us take his opinion upon its merits.

"Nay," laughingly responded Margaret, "Cousin Benedict, I fear, is too much engaged in other affairs to attend to us just now."

"Why, how?" asked Crowleigh in surprise, "surely no one would be ungallant enough not to lend their services to two such fair maidens.

Never! I cannot conceive it."

"Margaret means," interposed Dorothy, "that he has been taking too much wine again, and then he goes wandering about the cellars and pa.s.sages until he falls down and goes to sleep. n.o.body takes any notice of him now, though, we have all got too familiar with his ways."

"Well, we will go," decided the elder sister, "but which way--north, south, east, or west? Bakewell, Rowsley, or where? Let us determine quickly, for it will soon be dark."

"We are at your service," gallantly responded John Manners. "Any way will suit us equally well." Certainly, provided that the walk was long enough, the direction they should take was of little importance to him. He had a more important matter on his mind.

"Let it be Rowsley way, Margaret," asked Dorothy.

"Well, then," she agreed, "we will say Rowsley, 'tis a pretty walk; but we might first see our venerable protector in safety, then nothing could be nicer. Follow me, brave gentlemen," said Margaret, and the two girls led the way through the banqueting-room and down the stone-flagged pa.s.sage into the capacious wine cellar below.

Benedict was not there, but it was evident, from signs which could not be mistaken, that he had been there shortly before. All the neighbouring cellars were thoroughly explored, but to no purpose; he could not be discovered, and, finding that he had just been seen in the vicinity of the old archer's room, they turned their feet in that direction, only to find themselves once more baffled when they arrived there.

"No, your ladyships," replied the serving-maid, in answer to their inquiry, "he has gone again just now; you will be sure to find him in the kitchen, though."

"'Tis as good as a badger hunt," laughed Crowleigh, as they trailed into the kitchen again, "but prithee, fair mistress, what shall we gain by discovering the august knight?"

"In truth I cannot tell," replied Dorothy; "but, trust me, Margaret has some plan or other in her head.

"Yes," said Margaret, "but see him, here he is; the master of the house, our guardian, our protector; behold him where he lies," and she pointed to where the too festive knight lay doubled uncomfortably up in the salting trough.

"I expected about as much," she went on, "and I want to cure him; what shall we do?"

"Salt him," slyly suggested Dorothy, "that is the usual way."

"Fasten him down in the box for the night," suggested Crowleigh.

"We will," she said; "here is the lid, we can easily fasten it down so that he cannot undo it, and we will have a peep at him to see that he is not smothered when we come back."

In accordance with this decision Sir Benedict was unconsciously made a prisoner, as securely as any culprit in Derby gaol, and leaving him in this position the merry quartette started off upon their evening stroll.

Disdaining the highway, they followed the beaten path which led through the wood to Rowsley, Crowleigh doing his part to aid his friend by walking on with Margaret in front, and so deeply engaged her interest by recounting some of his adventures in badger hunting that she entirely forgot her sister, who followed behind her in a more leisurely fashion with Master Manners.

In vain the anxious esquire sought to broach the topic which lay so near to his heart; the words would not come, and beyond a few gallant and courtier-like remarks--to the like of which Dorothy had often listened beforetimes with impatience--he could not succeed; and when at last he began to give expression to his feelings, it was in a wild and almost incoherent manner.

As for the maiden who lightly tripped by his side, although she wore a sober, pensive look, yet she was filled with a silent joy, and the great fire of love which was burning in her breast she found difficult to control. With that quick and subtle faculty which belongs to womankind alone she had intuitively guessed his mission at the outset, and with perceptions rendered keener by the intensity of her pa.s.sion, she was on the alert to detect his advances and respond to them with a due amount of proper maidenly reserve. Finding, however, that he was slow to approach the subject, yet feeling sure of his intentions and fearing lest the opportunity should slip by, she sought to precipitate his movements by a few, delicate hints.

"Why, we are all alone," she exclaimed, "Wherever can my sister be?

Let us hasten on."

"She is in safe hands, fair Dorothy," he replied, "and you will not be missed awhile."

Dorothy noted with satisfaction that he had dropped the "Mistress"

from before her name, and this, she argued, denoted that he was awakening at last, and encouraged her to venture again with another remark.

"Margaret is such a scold," she teasingly said; "I fear we must really hasten forward."

"Nay, we will not hurry, we should not catch her now were we to try."

"Why not, prithee?"

"Because--because: well, do not let us try," he responded. He had fully meant to have declared his love to her then, but that "because"

stuck in his throat and blocked up all the other words he would have said. The very intensity of his love hindered him from declaring his pa.s.sion.

"What would Sir Thomas Stanley say if he knew Sir Everard were out courting with Meg?" wickedly suggested Dorothy. "Would he not be in a towering rage?"

"There would be another tournament, maybe," laughed Manners, not noticing the tender tone in which his fair companion had addressed him.

"Poor De la Zouch will remember his attempt to provide amus.e.m.e.nt for us for some time yet, I fear," she continued coquettishly. As her previous efforts had led to nothing, she had started afresh in another vein, mentally resolving that her companion was wretchedly slow in responding to her advances.

"I fear he will," he replied; "but he is improving, I hear. Sir Benedict seems to understand his case."

"He is like to be scarred for life, though," Dorothy returned. "Poor Sir Henry."

"You are sorry for him," exclaimed Manners, who felt a little piqued at the tone of Dorothy's reply, as, indeed, she intended he should be.

"Yes," she said, "I am; very sorry."

Manners bit his lip with annoyance, and made a foolish remark.

"Ha, he was your lover, perchance?" he said.

Dorothy flushed up hotly at the taunt. Manners saw it, and would have done much to have recalled his hasty words, but they were gone.

"Master Manners!" Doll exclaimed, turning quickly round upon him; "I have spurned him; I have told him what I think. Once and for ever have I refused him, and he knows I shall not change."

"Fair Dorothy, sweet Dorothy," Manners penitently exclaimed, dropping hurriedly upon his knees; "you shall be my queen. Forgive me--or condemn. I sue you for your pardon, nor will I rise until I have gained it."

"I will visit you to-morrow, then," she said, turning to go.

"Farewell."

Her voice was sweet again, and her brow was once more clear.

"You have forgiven me?" he cried, rising up and following her.

"What, sir knight?" she exclaimed, in feigned surprise, "risen, eh?

Upon my word, you are a fickle cavalier. Well, I suppose I must extend my clemency to you. At what price will you be willing to purchase my forgiveness?"

Manners was just going to tell her he would give himself and all he had to her if she would take it, but a sudden bend in the path brought them face to face with Margaret and Crowleigh, and the words were left unspoken.

It needed no question to inform Sir Everard that his friend's mission was not accomplished yet. He looked to see the sparkling eyes and a countenance beaming with delight, but was met by a face the very picture of disappointment; and shrewdly seeing that their company would be in no wise acceptable at such a juncture, he adroitly led Margaret on, still an interested listener to his wonderful tales, and intimating that they were returning to Haddon, they pa.s.sed the lovers by.