"Petronella's light!" murmured Cuthbert to himself. "I trow well she is thinking of me and praying for me before the little shrine in the turret. May the Holy Saints and Blessed Virgin watch over and protect her! I trust the day may come ere long when I may have power to rescue her from that evil home, and give to her a dower that shall make her not unworthy of being Philip's wife."
By which it may be seen that Cuthbert's thoughts were still running on the lost treasure, and that he had by no means relinquished his dream of discovery through hearing how others had sought and failed.
"If I may but win a little gold in these winter days when the forest is too inhospitable to be scoured and searched, I can give the whole of the summer to the quest. I will find these gipsies or their descendants and live amongst them as one of them. I will learn their ways, win their trust, and gradually discover all that they themselves know. Who dare say that I may not yet be the one to bring back the lost luck to the house of Trevlyn? Has it always been the prosperous and rich that have won the greatest prize? A humble youth such as I may do far more in the wild forest than those who have been bred to ease and luxury, and have to keep state and dignity."
Thus musing, Cuthbert rode slowly along in the light of the rising moon, his thoughts less occupied with the things he was leaving behind than with thoughts of the future and what it was to bring forth. The lad had all the pride of his house latent within him, and it delighted him to picture the day when he might return all Sir Richard's benefits a thousandfold by coming to him with the news of the lost treasure, and bidding him take the elder brother's share before ever his own father even knew that it had been found at last. His heart beat high as he pictured that day, and thought how he should watch the light coming into Kate's bright eyes, as the obstacle to her nuptials should be thus removed. Sure she could coax her father to remove his veto and overlook the cousinship if she had dower to satisfy Lord Andover. And if the Trevlyn treasure were but half what men believed, there would be ample to dower all three daughters and fill the family coffers, too.
"In truth it is a thing well worth living for!" cried the eager lad, as he pushed his way out of the wood and upon the highroad, where for a time travelling was somewhat better. "And why should I not succeed even though others have failed? My proud kinsmen have never lived in the forest themselves, learning its every secret winding track, making friends of its wild sons and daughters, learning the strange lore that only the children of the forest gather. What chance had they of learning secrets which but few may know? I trow none. I will not believe that great treasure has been cast away to the four winds. I verily believe it is still hidden away beneath the earth in some strange resting place known but to a few living souls. What do these wild gipsy folks want with gold and silver and jewels? They have all they need with the heavens above them and the earth beneath. They may love to have a buried hoard; they may love to feel that they have treasure at command if they desire it; but I can better believe they would keep it safe hidden in their forest or moorland home than that they would scatter it abroad by dividing it amongst their tribe. Moreover, any such sudden wealth would draw upon them suspicion and contumely. They would be hunted down and persecuted like the Jews in old days. No: they may well have stolen it out of revenge, but I believe they have hidden it away as they took it. It shall be my part to learn where it lies; and may the Holy Saints aid and bless me in the search!"
Cuthbert crossed himself as he invoked the Saints, for at heart he was a Romanist still, albeit he had had the wit to see that the same cardinal doctrines were taught by the Established Church of the land, whose services he had several times attended. And even as he made the gesture he became suddenly aware that he was not alone on the road. A solitary traveller mounted on a strong horse was standing beneath the shadow of a tree hard by, and regarding his approach with some curiosity, though the lad had not been aware of his close proximity until his horse paused and snorted.
"Good even, young man," said this traveller, in a pleasant voice that bespoke gentle birth. "I was waiting to see if I had an enemy to deal with in the shape of one of those rogues of the road, cutpurses or highwaymen, of whom one bears so many a long tale. But these travel in companies, and it behoves wise travellers to do likewise. How comes it that a stripling like you are out alone in this lone place? Is it a hardy courage or stern necessity?"
"I know not that it is one or the other," answered Cuthbert. "But I have not far to go this night, and I have not much to lose, though as that little is my all I shall make a fight ere I part with it. But by what I hear there is little danger of molestation till one reaches Hammerton Heath. And I propose to halt on the edge of that place, and sleep at the hostelry there."
"If you follow my counsel, my young friend," said the stranger as he paced along beside Cuthbert, "you will not adventure yourself in that den of thieves. Not long ago it was a safe place for a traveller, but now it is more perilous to enter those doors than to spend the darkest night upon the road. The new landlord is in league with the worst of the rogues and foot pads who frequent the heath, and no traveller who dares to ask a night's shelter there is allowed to depart without suffering injury either in person or pocket. Whither are you bound, my young friend, if I may ask the question?"
"For London, sir. I have an uncle there whom I am about to seek. But the way is something strange to me when the heath be passed, and I know not if I can find it in the dark."
"I also am bound for London," answered the stranger, "and in these days it is better to travel two than one, and four than two. But being no more than two, we must e'en hope for the best if we fall not in with other belated travellers. My business brooked not delay; wherefore I came alone. I mislike the fetter of a retinue of servants, and I have had wonderful good hap on the roads; but there be others who tell a different tale, and I often join company when I find a traveller to my liking going my way."
Cuthbert was glad enough to have a companion. This man was many years his senior, so that he was somewhat flattered by the proposition of riding in his company; moreover, he was plainly a gentleman of some condition, whose fancy it was (not his necessity) to travel thus unattended. Also he was speedily conscious of a strange sense of fascination which this stranger exercised upon him, for which he could not in the least account; and he quickly found himself answering the questions carelessly addressed to him with a freedom that surprised himself; for why should there be such pleasure in talking of himself and his prospects to one whose name he did not even know?
When first he had pronounced his name, he observed that the stranger gave him a quick, keen glance; and after they had been some time in conversation, he spoke with a sudden gravity and earnestness that was decidedly impressive.
"Young man, I trust that you are loyal and true to the faith of those forefathers of yours who have been one of England's brightest ornaments. In these latter days there has been a falling away. Men have let slip the ancient truths. Love of the world has been stronger within them than love of the truth. They have let themselves be corrupted by heresy; they have lost their first love. I trust it is not so with you. I trust you are one of the faithful who are yet looking for brighter days for England, when she shall be gathered again to the arms of the true Church. But a few minutes ago I saw you make the holy sign, and my heart went out to you as to a brother. These Protestants deny and contemn that symbol, as they despise and contemn in their wantonness the ordinances of God and the authority of His Vicar. I trust you have not fallen into like error; I trust that you are a true son of the old stock of Trevlyn?"
"I know little of such disputed matters," answered Cuthbert, made a little nervous by the ardent glance bent upon him from the bright eyes of the speaker. He had a dark, narrow face, pale and eager, a small, pointed beard trimmed after the fashion of the times, and the wide-brimmed sugar-loaf hat drawn down upon his brows cast a deep shadow over his features. But his voice was peculiarly melodious and persuasive, and there was a nameless attraction about him that Cuthbert was quick to feel. Others in the days to follow felt it to their own undoing, but of that the lad knew nothing. He only wished to retain the good opinion this stranger seemed to have formed of him.
"I have led but a hermit's life, as I have told you. I have been bred up in the faith of my forefathers, and that faith