“On the apex of the shrine there is a broken cross.  The night is dark and you may pass without seeing it, therefore I shall direct you how to find it.  A short distance this side of the shrine the road turns sharply to the left, just before crossing a bourne which is six leagues from Westminster.  After you have crossed the bourne, bring your horses to a walk, and when you have counted a number equal to the sum of seven times the square of eleven, counting as the clock ticks, halt, and you will find the shrine on a hillock in a bleak moor.  You may easily see it, as it will be dark against the snow.  Neither rain nor snow touches it, and the storm spares it.  It has been abandoned by men hundreds of years, therefore the Blessed Virgin protects it from further decay.”

He seemed to be a long time coming to the house, but after another pause, he continued:—­

“Half a league beyond the shrine a narrow road branches to the south.  Take it, and soon you will be in the midst of a forest, dark and wild.  The road will be dim and difficult to follow in its windings, but your horses will keep the way and will take you to a gate in the midst of the forest.  Enter by the gate and follow the road winding among the trees till you reach the double door or gate in the wall.  The house will be dark save in the third story of the stone tower, where you will see a star beaming in the window.  Raphael, my familiar spirit, will hold the star for your guidance.  In the room of the star, you will find the person you seek.  Delay not!”

He stopped speaking, bent forward, breathed upon a gold plate covered with mystic signs which rested on a table, rose to an upright posture, again became rigid, stretched out his hands with face upturned, and whispered in tones almost inaudible:—­

“Come thou, great Raphael, spirit of rescue, and help me this night in a righteous cause.  In the name of Jupiter, the father of the gods, Mercury, his son, and Psyche, the spirit of the stars!”

He stood dazed for a moment, as though just awakened, then turning quickly to me, said:  “Lose not a moment’s time.  Hasten at once to the rescue.  I am sure my directions will lead you to her whom you seek.”

Betty, George, and I gathered our hats and cloaks, and George, turning to me, said:—­

“We must find a light coach and four good horses.  The road will be heavy with snow, and we must be prepared to travel rapidly.”

“Father has four good horses, as strong and swift as any in London,” suggested Betty.  “He has a light coach, too.  Let us return to the Old Swan and prepare to start at once.”

“Betty, you are too wise for one of your age and sex,” said George.  “But without your wisdom, I don’t know what we should have done this night.  Let us go immediately.”

Our coachman put his horses to a gallop, we reached the Old Swan in a short time, and within less than half an hour, a porter informed me that a coach and four were awaiting us in the courtyard.  Pickering lent us greatcoats and rugs and all things needful to keep us warm.  He did not know the exact reason for our journey, but had learned from Betty that it was undertaken in an affair of great moment, involving my cousin’s safety.