"Aye; I think the lad is sure to have taken it at the inn." His voice was very gentle, as it always was when he addressed her.
"There he is!" shouted 'Bitha. And she darted down the steps to wave frantic arms at two horsemen coming up the wooded way to the house, while Dot lifted her head from her father's knee, as he now sat more erect in his chair.
"Have a care, 'Bitha, or we may run you down," called out John Devereux, laughingly. And at this the little maiden made haste to speed back to the porch.
It was Hugh Knollys who accompanied him,—a stalwart, broad-chested young fellow of twenty-five or six, with blunt features and a not over-handsome face. But for all this he had an irresistible magnetism for those who knew him; and no one could ever associate evil or untruth with his frank, keen-glancing gray eyes and clean-cut, smiling lips.
"Good-evening, Hugh, and welcome," said Joseph Devereux, rising to extend a friendly hand as the young man came up the steps.
Hugh removed his hat and nodded to Dorothy, glancing at her askance as she arose and with a demure greeting passed him and went to her brother, who was now giving some orders to old Leet.
"Jack," she whispered imploringly, under cover of the talk going on in the porch,—"Jack, tell me, please, that you will not speak to father of Mary and me seeing Moll Pitcher this afternoon."
He looked at her smilingly, and then took her chin in his fingers and gave her head a gentle shake, in a way he had of doing.
"If I do as you ask, will you promise not to go over to that part of the town again without telling me first, and then not to go unless I say you may?"
"Yes, yes," she answered eagerly.