of these days return to inquire if your health has taken ought of harm by
the rough buffeting of the storm of yester-even."

So saying he handed the child to its mother, and with a wave of the hand
took his leave, not waiting to listen to the renewed thanks which his late
guest endeavoured to give him.

The shop was open in front, a projecting penthouse sheltered it from the
weather; two or three bows lay upon a wide shelf in front, and several
large sheaves of arrows tied together stood by the wall. A powerful man of
some forty years old was standing in the middle of the shop with a bent bow
in his arm, taking aim at a spot in the wall. Through an open door three
men could be seen in an inner workshop cutting and shaping the wood for
bows. The bowyer looked round as his visitor entered the shop, and then,
with a sudden exclamation, lowered the bow.

"Hush, Giles!" the lady exclaimed; "it is I, but name no names; it were
best that none knew me here."

The craftsman closed the door of communication into the inner room. "My
Lady Alice," he exclaimed in a low tone, "you here, and in such a guise?"

"Surely it is I," the lady sighed, "although sometimes I am well-nigh
inclined to ask myself whether it be truly I or not, or whether this be not
all a dreadful dream."

"I had heard but vaguely of your troubles," Giles Fletcher said, "but hoped
that the rumours were false. Ever since the Duke of Kent was executed the
air has been full of rumours. Then came news of the killing of Mortimer and
of the imprisonment of the king's mother, and it was said that many who