organize a thorough hunt for the highwayman. Until that had been tried,
he would postpone all further plans of action. Miss Lavender did not say
much, except to encourage him in this determination. She felt that there
was grave matter for reflection in what had happened. The threads of
mystery seemed to increase, and she imagined it possible that they might
all converge to one unknown point.

"Mary," she said, when she descended to the kitchen, "I don't see but
what the boy's goin' on finely. Go to bed, you, and sleep quietly; I'll
take the settle, here, and I promise you I'll go up every hour through
the night, to see whether he's kicked his coverin's off."

Which promise she faithfully kept, and in the morning Gilbert came down
to breakfast, a little haggard, but apparently as sound as ever. Even
the Doctor, when he arrived, was slightly surprised at the rapid
improvement.

"A fine constitution for medicines to work on," he remarked. "I wouldn't
wish thee to be sick, but when thee is, it's a pleasure to see how thy
system obeys the treatment."

Martha Deane, during Miss Lavender's absence, had again discussed, in
her heart, her duty to Gilbert. Her conscience was hardly satisfied with
the relinquishment of her first impulse. She felt that there was, there
must be, something for her to do in this emergency. She knew that he had
toiled, and dared, and suffered for her sake, while she had done
nothing. It was not pride,--at least not the haughty quality which bears
an obligation uneasily,--but rather the impulse, at once brave and
tender, to stand side by side with him in the struggle, and win an equal
right to the final blessing.