"Canst not thou help us there ?" The old woman shifted her bright eyes to the flushed face of the girl, and a flicker passed over her face as she repeated: "Us--us?
And what part or lot has Martin Holt's daughter in the lost treasure of Trevlyn?
What, my pretty child, has thy handsome lover come so soon?
and art thou looking already to be made a lady of by him ?" The girl hid her blushing face on Cuthbert's shoulder, whilst he answered with boyish straightforwardness: "I will wed my cousin Cherry or none else.

We have plighted our troth secretly, and she shall one day be my bride.

If thou canst help me in this matter, it will make our lot easier; but, poor or rich, she shall be mine!" The old woman nodded her head several times, and Cuthbert fancied that a greater benignity of expression crossed her wrinkled face.
"Brave words! brave words!" she muttered, "and a brave heart behind.

Grandson to Isabel Wyvern! Ay, so it is; and there is Wyvern in that face as well as Trevlyn.

For her sake--for her sake! Ay, I would do much for that.
"Boy," she said suddenly, raising her voice and speaking in her witch-like accents again, "thou hast spoken a name which is as a talisman, and though thou hast asked a hard thing, I will help thee an I can.