Whilst she sat in the loose robe of an invalid, towards noon, looking out upon the green forest and smiling fields around her, with Henry close by her side, seeking to soothe and amuse her mind, they were enabled to descry a horseman, attended by a single servant, making his way up the hill from the ford, by the road that led directly to the door.
"As I live, sister," ejaculated Henry, "there is Tyrrel, covered with dust, and his horse all but worn down by travel."
"Heaven forbid that it should be Tyrrel indeed!" said Mildred, growing paler, and trembling as she spoke. "Oh, what ill fortune brings him hither?"
"I'll be bound," replied Henry, "that he comes with a whole budget of lies and foul thoughts. He has a knavish look, sister, and has been hatching mischief with every step of his horse. I, for one, will not see him; unless I can't help it. And you, sister, have an excuse to keep your room: so, he is like to have cold comfort here, with his rascally news of victory. We shall hear enough of Camden now. By-the-by, sister, I should like much to see our account of that business. I would bet it gives another face to the matter. These Tories do so bespatter his lordship with praises, and tell such improbable things about their victories! I will not see Tyrrel, that's flat."
"Nay, brother, not so fast. You must see him, for my sake. He has something to tell of Arthur. Persuade my father to ask him: tell him, if need be, that I requested this. And, Henry, if he says that Arthur is safe and well, if he has heard anything of him, knows anything of him, fly to and tell me it all. And, remember, brother," she said earnestly, "tell me all—whether it be good or bad."
"This is a new view of the case," said Henry. "Mildred, you are a wise woman, and think more ahead than I do. I did not reflect that this fellow might know something of Major Butler, though I am pretty sure he kept as clear of the major as a clean pair of heels would allow him. And, moreover, I take upon me to say, that he will bring as little good news of our Arthur in this direction, as he ever did of a good act in his life. But I will spy him out, sister, and report like a—like a—forty-two pounder, or the dispatch of a general who has won a fight. So, adieu, sister."
By the time that Henry had reached the porch, Tyrrel was already there. He had dismounted, and his weary steed stood panting on the grave walk, while the servant stripped him of his baggage.
"Well met, good master Henry!" said Tyrrel approaching, and offering the youth his hand, "I am somewhat of a soiled traveller, you see. Is your father at home? And your sister, how is she?"
"My father is at home," replied Henry, dropping the proffered hand of the visitor, almost as soon as it had touched his own. "I will send him to you, sir."
"But you have not asked me the news, Henry," said Tyrrel, "and, seeing that I have come from the very theatre of war, I could tell you something good."