And Robin dared no more ride with his love, for fear that his company all day with her should be marked.
* * * * * It was within an hour of sunset that Robin, riding ahead, having lost a hawk and his hat, having fallen into a bog-hole, being one mask of mud from head to foot, slid from his horse into Dick's hands and demanded if the ladies were back.
"Yes, sir; they are back half an hour ago.

They are in the parlour." Robin knew better.

"I shall be riding in ten minutes," he said; "give the mare a mouthful." He limped across the court, and looking behind him to see if any saw, and finding the court at that instant empty, ran up, as well as he could, the stone staircase that rose from the outside to the chapel door.

It was unlatched.

He pushed it open and went in.
* * * * * It was a brave thing that the FitzHerberts did in keeping such a place at all, since the greatest Protestant fool in the valley knew what the little chamber was that had the angels carved on the beam-ends, and the piscina in the south wall.