"Farewell, Frederick," said Hazel—for now she looked on him as her big brother, and spoke unto him as such—"I may not again see thee until the fate of us all hath been decided. May Heaven bless thee and bring thee back to this dear girl, safe and victorious. And then may our old happy days that passed like sunbeams in the park at Windsor be repeated without disturbing interruption."
This was a confirmation of my suspicion that Harleston had asked Mary that question which is the London-stone in the lives of us all, and she had made the promise that I could, long months since, have told she would.
"Farewell, dear lady," returned Frederick, whilst Mary took advantage of his speech in trying to regain her wonted complexion; "I hope to see thee again ere a fortnight be past. One great battle shall decide our fate; and what that will be I am assured of."
Then turning to me he said:—"We shall meet, no doubt, in the ranks of the conquering Richmond. Till then farewell, my dear friend."
"Farewell, Frederick, we shall meet near Leicester; that is if Richard there awaits the Earl."
I kissed Mary, and she and Harleston did bid farewell to big Michael.
Then we proceeded to where our horses waited, Michael bearing upon his arm a basket, in which was our food for the day.
The morning was now well dawned, and the red bars from the fiery sun were glancing along the floor of Heaven in beauteous ribbons, like the gay trappings of a May-pole.
Hazel's palfrey was now brought up; and as we mounted and rode off, the little group at the door still stood and waved a silent, fluttering farewell.
We rode on in silence until we came to the turning that we should take, were we to be guided by the letter.