"I only go on foot, my lord. Doubtless you have a horse in waiting, and will soon outride me."

"A horse! not I. I have neither beast nor man in waiting. I travel alone and on foot, and for the nonce am no more Lord Culverhouse, but only Rupert de Grey--thy trusty comrade Rupert--and a would-be follower of bold Robin Hood, did he but hold his court with his merry, merry men in the free forest now. See, I wear his livery. I feel as free as air. I marvel I never thought of such a masquerade before. We will have a right merry time this joyous springtide. How long dost thou purpose to remain in the greenwood thyself?"

"I know not," answered Cuthbert, as the pair strode southward together, quickly leaving behind the last houses of London, and striking away in the direction of the forest whither both were bound. It was the last day in April: the soft south wind was blowing in their faces, the trees were beginning to hang out their tassels of tender green, the hawthorn was bursting into bloom and filling the air with its fragrance. It was, in fact, the eve of one of those old-fashioned May Days which seem utterly to have gone by now, and all nature was rejoicing in the sweet exaltation of the happy springtide, full of the promises of the golden summer to come.

Cuthbert's heart swelled with delight as he looked about him and felt that the strife and bustle of the great city were at last shaken off. In spite of the spell exercised upon him by the life of London, he had for some weeks been pining like a caged bird for the freedom of the country again, the vault of the sky alone above him, the songs of the birds in his ears. The spring had brought to him yearnings and desires which he scarcely understood, and latterly he had been counting the days which must pass ere he should find himself in the forest once again.

In his uncle's house matters were growing a little strained. Martin Holt undoubtedly suspected something of the matter betwixt him and Cherry, and as plainly disapproved. He looked upon Cherry as promised to her cousin Jacob, and doubtless he thought the steady, plodding, slow-witted son of the house of Dyson a far safer husband for his feather-brained youngest than handsome Cuthbert Trevlyn, with his gentler birth, his quick and keen intelligence, and his versatile, inquiring mind, which was always inclining him to meddle in matters better left alone, and to judge for himself with an independence that was perilous in times like these. Not that Martin Holt was himself averse to independence of judgment, rather the reverse; but he knew the dangers besetting the path of those who were resolved to think and judge for themselves, and he would fain have seen his youngest and dearest child safely made over to the care of one who would be content to go through life without asking troublesome questions or intermeddling with matters of danger and difficulty, and would conform to all laws, civil and religious, without a qualm, recognizing the King's will as supreme in all matters, temporal and spiritual, without a doubt or a scruple. Cherry would be safe with Jacob, that was Martin's feeling, whilst with Cuthbert he could have no such security. Cuthbert had still his way to make in the world, and it had not yet appeared that he would be of any use in business matters. He was clever with his pen. He was a good scholar, and had been able to make himself useful to his uncle in a number of small matters where his quickness and sharp wits had room to work. He was also of no small use in the matter of the building and fitting up of the new sloop, in which he took such keen interest. He would go over every bit of the work, comparing it with what he saw in other vessels, and learning quickly to distinguish good workmanship from bad. He became so ready of resource and suggestion when any small difficulty occurred, that both Martin Holt and Abraham Dyson learned to think exceedingly well of his abilities, and employed him largely in matters where quickness of observation and apprehension was wanted. But for all that, and despite the fact that he had earned some considerable sum of money (as he reckoned it) during the winter and spring months, he had shown no great desire to settle himself down to any steady occupation or trade, and neither of the elder men saw any opening for him that should give him regular and permanent occupation.

"He has too much of the gay gallant about him for my taste," Abraham would say. "He is more Trevlyn than Holt; and some folks say more Wyvern than Trevlyn. Be that as it may, he is a gentleman to the fingertips; and one might as well try to tame an eagle as set him down to the round of work that comes natural to lads like Jacob."

And Martin Holt would nod assent, feeling that there was something about his sister's son that would never assimilate with the life of a merchant tradesman. He liked his nephew, and thought well of him in many ways; but he was not sorry to receive his request for leave to revisit his old haunts and his own kindred when the long spring days were upon the world; and he bid the lad please himself for the future, and return or not as he best liked. There was the gold to be given up to him when he should make formal claim for it. Martin had satisfied himself by now that he was worthy to be intrusted with it; but Cuthbert intended Petronella to have the bulk of that, so that she might wed Philip, if they were both inclined that way. As for himself, he was still bent on finding the lost treasure of Trevlyn, and he had vowed the whole of the long summer to the search, resolved that he would find it, be the perils and perplexities what they might.

So that although he saw by his uncle's manner that he was not especially anxious to see him back soon, and shrewdly guessed that this was in part on Cherry's account, he did not let the matter distress him. When good Jacob had had his turn, and had failed in winning Cherry's hand, and when he himself should return laden with the treasure which should enable him to place his little love in a nest in all ways worthy of her, surely then his uncle would give her up to him without opposition. This was how he spoke to Cherry, comforting her as the hour for his departure drew near, and vowing eternal constancy and unchanging love. He was beginning to feel that he was doing his cause more harm than good by lingering on, unable to declare himself, yet betraying himself, as he often felt, in a hundred little nameless ways. It would be better for all when the wrench was finally made; and neither he nor Cherry doubted for a moment that he would be successful in his search, and would come riding up at last to the house on the bridge, the gayest of gay gallants, to claim Cherry in the sight of all, lifting her upon his horse, and riding away with her in the fashion of the bold knights of old, whose deeds of prowess they both so greatly admired.

It was this brilliant prospect of glory to come which consoled Cherry and reconciled her to the parting of the present. Hard as it would be to live without Cuthbert, she would strive to do so in the thought that he would come again ere long and take her away for ever from the life which was becoming odious to her, she scarce knew why. So they had parted in hope as well as in sorrow, and Cuthbert felt all his elasticity of spirit returning to him as he strode along by his unexpected comrade's side.

"I know not how long I shall be absent from London," he said in answer to Culverhouse's question. "There be many things depending on that. I have set myself a task, and I know not how long a time it will take to accomplish. And you, my good lord, how goes it with you? Are you about to visit Trevlyn Chase, as you will be thus near, and see your kinsfolks there?"