CHAPTER XXI.
The Arrest.
As he approached the cottage a heavy presentiment of ill seized Sir Jocelyn.

The place seemed to have lost its customary smiling air.

No fair countenance beamed upon him from the casement; no light footsteps were heard hastening to the door; no one opened it to give him welcome.
Could Aveline have fled' ?--or had some dire misfortune happened to her.
Suspense was worse than certainty of ill: and after a moment's hesitation, he raised the latch, and with trembling footsteps crossed the threshold.
She was gone--he could no longer doubt it.

The disordered appearance of the chamber in which he found himself, with its furniture scattered about, seemed to tell of a struggle, and a forcible abduction.
Nevertheless, though expecting no answer, he called forth her name in accents of wildest despair.

She came not to his cries--neither she nor her companion, Dame Sherborne, nor her faithful attendant old Anthony Rocke.