gave to me. Thou wouldst have Cherry for a sister. Thou--"

But Petronella shrank away a little, and looked scared at the
thought. Hers was one of those timid natures that find it easier to
endure even a terrible wrong than to take a bold step to escape
from it. The life of the forest might have attracted her, for she
loved the freedom of the woodlands, and had no fears of loneliness
or privation. But she had heard from Cuthbert of the bands of
outlaws and gipsies, of Long Robin and his murderous hatred; and of
other perils which she felt she had scarce courage to face. She
feared that if she let Cuthbert carry her off she would but prove a
burden and a care, whilst the thought of London and the strange
relations there filled her with distaste and dread.

"Nay, nay, my brother; I have borne much--I will bear a little
more. I love the old Gate House as thou hast never loved it; and
perchance after this storm there may be a lull of quiet peace. I
should but hamper thee, and hold thee back from that great purpose;
and--"

"But Martin Holt, he would welcome thee; and once beneath his
roof--"

"Nay, Cuthbert, it might well be that our father would guess
whither I had fled, and would come and drag me back. I am not of an
age to resist him. And I am a helpless woman, not a man. I have
thought many times of flight, but I fear me it would but lead to
worse."

"I know not that," answered Cuthbert thoughtfully. "Our uncle