Of late the lack of direct news from the Duke had been a source of mystification to his friends in the West, and now, suddenly, the information went abroad--it was something more than rumour this time--that a letter of the greatest importance had been intercepted.

From whom that letter proceeded or to whom it was addressed, could not yet be discovered.

But it seemed clear that it was connected with the Monmouth Cause, and it behoved Mr.Wilding to discover what he could.

With this intent he rode with Trenchard that Sunday morning to Taunton, hoping that at the Red Lion Inn--that meeting-place of dissenters--he might cull reliable information.
It was in consequence of this that the meeting with Richard Westmacott was not to take place until the evening, and therefore Vallancey came not to Lupton House as early as Richard thought he should expect him.
Blake, however--more no doubt out of a selfish fear of losing a valued ally in the winning of Ruth's hand than out of any excessive concern for Richard himself--had risen early and hastened to Lupton House, in the hope, which he recognized as all but forlorn, of yet being able to avert the disaster he foresaw for Richard.
Peering over the orchard wall as he rode by, he caught a glimpse, through an opening between the trees, of Ruth herself and Diana on the lawn beyond.

There was a wicket gate that stood unlatched, and availing himself of this Sir Rowland tethered his horse in the lane and threading his way briskly through the orchard came suddenly upon the girls.
Their laughter reached him as he advanced, and told him they could know nothing yet of Richard's danger.
On his abrupt and unexpected apparition, Diana paled and Ruth flushed slightly, whereupon Sir Rowland might have bethought him, had he been book-learned, of the axiom, "Amour qui rougit, fleurette; amour qui plit, drame du coeur." He doffed his hat and bowed, his fair ringlets tumbling forward till they hid his face, which was exceeding grave.
Ruth gave him good morning pleasantly.