Gregory was silent.  He looked upwards to the bright moon and the quenched orbs that lay about her path.  Again Elizabeth whispered, first looking cautiously around—­

“Wilt do me a service?”

“Ay, for hire,” he quickly answered.

“If thine errand is done faithfully, thou mayest get more largess than thou dream’st of.”

“Ye want a spoon belike, that ye soil not your delicate fingers?”

“Ay, Gregory, an’ thou wilt, we ’ll first use thee.”

“And then the spoon shall be broken, I trow.  Well, if I am a spoon, I’ll be a golden one, and I shall be worth something when I’m done with.  Understand ye this, fair mistress?”

“Yes, knave; and thou shalt have thy reward.”

“What!  I shall swing the highest, eh?”

“Peace; I want a messenger.  Take this.”

“Not treason, I trow,” said Gregory, as he eyed the billet with a curious but hesitating glance.

“Go by the nearer path to the wood.  Where the road divides to the ford and the farther pastures; take the latter, then turn to the right, where the old fir-tree rises above the rock.  Walk carefully through the bushes at the base of the crag.  Near unto a sharp angle of the rock thy path will be stayed by a fallen tree.  Grasp this with both hands, and whistle thrice.  I know thou canst be trusty and discreet.  Yet remember thy life is in my power shouldst thou fail.”  She paused, pointing significantly at the billet.  “Now hasten.  Bring back, and to me only, what shall be committed to thy care.  I will expect thee at my window by midnight.”

Now it so happened that this precise spot was identified to Gregory’s apprehensions with the very place where his attention had that night been directed by the mysterious disappearance of the grey man of the mine.  He would certainly have preferred making his second visit by daylight; but needs must when a woman drives, especially when that woman is a mistress, and gold is the goad.  Besides he might perchance get a glimpse of the treasure; and his pockets were wide and his gripe close.  Thus stimulated to the adventure, he addressed himself to perform her behest.

The night was singularly clear, and the shadows lay on his path, still and beautifully distinct.  As he hastened onwards the wood grew darker and more impervious.  Here and there the moonbeams crept fantastically through the boughs, like fairy lamps glimmering on his path.  Sometimes, preternaturally bright, the wood seemed lit up as though for some magic festival.  He followed the directions he had received, pausing not until he saw the dark fir-tree rearing its broad crest and gigantic arms into the clear and twinkling heaven.  It looked like the guardian genius of the place,—­a huge monster lifting its terrific head, as though to watch and warn away intruders.  Beside this was the rock where his adventure must terminate.