About seven o'clock she went to her brother's room, and brought away a suit of his clothing; and when she had dressed herself in it, and put a pistol and hunting-knife in her belt, and a large plumed hat on her head, she looked in the mirror with the utmost satisfaction. She was her brother's double; quite his height, and singularly like him in carriage, face and manner. Of this resemblance she had soon a very convincing proof, for as she passed through the hall, her own maid Delia curtsied to her, and said, "My lady is sick to-night, sir, and will not be disturbed." And Matilda bowed and passed on. As for the other servants, in and out of the house, they knew they were to have eyes and see not; and ears, and hear not. Therefore, though several met, as they supposed, the young Earl leaving the house, there was no further recognition of the fact among themselves, than a lifting of the eyebrows, or some enigmatical remark, only to be understood by those en rapport with the circumstances.

Matilda walked quickly through the garden, and still more quickly through the lonely chase. She was not afraid of the thing she was going to do, but she was afraid of the toads and snails, and the unknown deer and dogs that thought the wooded space their own. But without molestation she arrived at the three oaks. Yupon Slade was already there. He showed her the light of the lanthorn for a moment, and then his black-cloaked figure and masked face blended indeterminately with the darkness around him. For nearly an hour Matilda walked up and down the road, keeping well within call of her companion. But about nine o'clock the sound of a horse coming at an easy gallop was heard, and Yupon was softly called. He was at Matilda's side as the rider came near them. She advanced to meet him, calling pleasantly, "Miles Watson, a word, if it please you."

The voice was familiar and kind, and Miles drew rein and asked, "Who calls me? I am on the Commonwealth's business, and cannot be delayed."

Then Matilda, pointing the pistol in his face said, "You must light from your horse, Miles Watson." Miles tried then to proceed, but Yupon had whispered to the animal he rode, and the creature took no notice of his rider's persuasions. The pistol was dangerously near; Yupon's rough order "to tumble" was not unaccompanied by threats, and Watson thought it best to obey quietly, where he could not resist. When Yupon had bound him securely, Matilda took the lanthorn, and drawing from her girdle the sharp hunting-knife, she cut open the leathern mail-bag, and turned the light upon its contents. The small private letters she hardly noticed, but there were three ominous-looking papers closed with large red seals, and these she instantly seized. They were all directed to the Sheriff of Ely; and she felt sure they were the authority for Stephen's arrest. She took possession of the whole three, bade Yupon set loose the horse, and leaving the other contents of the rifled mail-bag on the grass by the side of the bound carrier, she put into her companion's hand the promised gold pieces, and then slipped away into the shadows and darkness of de Wick chase.

"THREE OMINOUS-LOOKING PAPERS."

Once within its boundaries she ran like a deer till she reached the house. All was shut and silent, but she was prepared for this emergency. She had a key to her private rooms, and she reached them without sight or sound that could betray her. Indeed, she felt reasonably certain that neither Yupon nor the mail-rider had suspected her disguise. When she put the gold in Yupon's hand he had said quite naturally, "Thanks to you, Earl Stephen;" and twice over Miles Watson vowed, "I shall be equal to you yet, Earl de Wick. I know who you be, Earl de Wick."

There was still fire on her hearth, and she pushed the dying logs together, and lit a candle by their blaze. Then she opened one of the letters. It was a warrant for the arrest of Squire Mason. The next opened was a warrant for the arrest of Lord Frederick Blythe; but the third was, truly enough, the warrant for the arrest of Stephen de Wick, for treason against the Commonwealth and conspiracy against the life of the Protector. She drew her mouth tightly, and tore the whole three warrants across, and threw them into the flames. When they were ashes, she turned quickly, divested herself of her brother's clothing, and put on her own garments. Then she carried Stephen's suit to his room, and afterwards put out the candle and went to bed.

But it was dawn before she could sleep. She lay calculating the time that it would take to get fresh warrants, and her conclusion was, "If Stephen have the least bit of good fortune, he will be out of danger, before they know in London that their lying warrants are beyond looking after. And I am glad I have done Mason and Blythe a good turn. At dawn I will send them a message they will understand. Oh, indeed, Mr. Cromwell, if you can spy, others can spy also!" She was a little troubled when she thought of her aunt and Anthony Lynn. "But, Lord!" she said audibly, "it is not time yet to face the question; I shall be ready for it when it comes."

She did not anticipate this trial for some days. "They will begin to wonder in two days what the sheriff has done in the matter; in three days they may write to ask; about the fifth day he may let them know he never got the warrants; then there will be new warrants to make out, and to send, and all this net spread in the sight of the birds, and the birds flown. In all conscience, I may take my ease for one clear week—then—perhaps I may be in London. I will consider of it."