“Good morning, Sir Francis,” said Flora, rising to receive him; and she could not avoid looking at him as he entered the room.  “I hope you have had a pleasant night?”

“It has been the best night’s rest I have had for some time, Miss Bannerworth.  I assure you I have to express my gratitude to you for so much kindness.  I have slept well, and soundly.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“I think yet I shall escape the search of these people who have hunted me from so many places.”

“I hope you may, indeed, Sir Francis.”

“You, Miss Bannerworth! and do you hope I may escape the vengeance of these people—­the populace?”

“I do, Sir Francis, most sincerely hope so.  Why should I wish evil to you, especially at their hands?”

Sir Francis did not speak for a minute or two, and then he said, turning full upon Flora—­

“I don’t know why, Miss Bannerworth, that I should think so, but perhaps it is because there are peculiar circumstances connected with myself, that have made me feel conscious that I have not deserved so much goodness at your hands.”

“You have not deserved any evil.  Sir Francis, we could not do that if it were in our power; we would do you a service at any time.”

“You have done so, Miss Bannerworth—­the greatest that can be performed.  You have saved my life.”

At that moment Charles Holland entered, and Sir Francis bowed, as he said,—­

“I hope you, Mr. Holland, have slept as well, and passed as good a night as I have passed?”

“I am glad you, at least, have passed a quiet one,” said Charles Holland; “you, I dare say, feel all the better for it?  How do you feel yourself?  Are you much hurt?”

“Not at all, not at all,” said Sir Francis Varney.  “Only a few bruises, and so forth, some of which, as you may perceive, do not add to one’s personal appearance.  A week or two’s quiet would rid me of them.  At all events, I would it may do the same with my enemies.”

“I wish they were as easily gotten rid of myself,” said Charles; “but as that cannot be, we must endeavour to baffle them in the best way we may.”

“I owe a debt to you I shall never be able to repay; but where there is a will, they say there is a way; and if the old saying be good for anything, I need not despair, though the way is by no means apparent at present.”

“Time is the magician,” said Flora, “whose wand changes all things—­the young to the aged, and the aged to nothing.”

“Certainly, that is true,” said Varney, “and many such changes have I seen.  My mind is stored with such events; but this is sadness, and I have cause to rejoice.”

* * * *

The breakfast was passed off in pleasing conversation, and Varney found himself much at home with the Bannerworths, whose calm and even tenour was quite new to him.

He could not but admit the charms of such a life as that led by the Bannerworths; but what it must have been when they were supplied by ample means, with nothing to prey upon their minds, and no fearful mystery to hang on and weigh down their spirits, he could scarcely imagine.