face. As he donned his hat and took up a heavy oaken staff that lay
upon the table, his whole aspect changed. He seemed to don likewise
a new action, a new outward appearance altogether. His straight
back bent and assumed a stoop such as one sees in men who have long
grown old. There came a feebleness into his gait, a slight
uncertainty into his movements. And all this was done so naturally,
so cleverly, that Cuthbert, as he gazed fascinated at the figure
before him, could scarcely believe that his eyes had not played him
some strange trick--could scarcely credit that this could be the
same being as the upright, stalwart man, whose movements he had
been watching during the past half hour. But all this only went to
show how shrewd Joanna's surmise had been, and every corroborating
fact increased Cuthbert's confidence in all that she had told him.

Leaving the last torch to die into obscurity by itself, Long Robin
made for the opening in the wall which led to the outer cave, and
Cuthbert rose swiftly and silently and crept after him, gaining the
opening in time to see the tall figure slouching across the
moorland track in the direction of the westering sun.

Afraid of following too closely, and so of being seen, Cuthbert
retreated once more into the cave, and had the forethought to fill
his wallet with the remains of the meal of which both he and Long
Robin had partaken. He did not know exactly what was his best
course to pursue, but it seemed a pity to let Long Robin out of his
sight without tracking him to some one of his lairs or hiding
places.

Cuthbert now knew that he had slept during the greater part of the
day, and taking a draught of mead, and rapidly munching some bread