But he well knew the habits and the sullen ferocity of the grim old man his father, and it was with cautious steps that he approached the walls.  No light burned in any window.  The inmates of the building were doubtless wrapped in sleep.  He well knew his sister’s window, and cutting himself a long hazel bough, he gently swept it to and fro across the glass.  This had always been a signal between them in their childhood, and many had been their nocturnal rambles taken together when Cuthbert had contrived to escape from the house before it was locked up, and had then called Petronella and assisted her down by the tangled ivy that clung to the gray old walls.  He knew she would recognize in a moment who was outside when she heard the tapping of that hazel wand; and it seemed indeed as if she did, for in a moment the window was opened, and a soft tremulous voice asked eagerly: 

“Cuthbert, can it be thou?”

“It is indeed I, sweet sister.  Canst thou come to me?  Hast thou lost thy cunning or thy lightness of foot?  I am here to help thee.”

“I will come to thee anon; but the little postern door is seldom locked since thou art gone, and I can get out thus.  Linger not beside the house, Cuthbert; speed to the chantry—­I will meet thee there.  He might hear or see thee here.  Do not linger; go.  I will be with thee anon; I will not keep thee but a few short minutes.  But do not tarry; go!”

There was such earnestness in her soft whispers that Cuthbert did not attempt to reply save by a brief nod.  He slid away in the darkness and took the familiar but now tangled path to the chantry, looking round the old ruin with loving eyes; for it was the one spot connected with his home not fraught with memories of pain and fear.

“Poor little timid Petronella!” he mused.  “Was I right to leave her thus alone with our harsh father?  Yet I could do nothing for her; and it seemed as though my presence in the house stirred him up to continual fury.  I would I had a home to bring her to.  I would I might carry her off with me now.  But what could she do in the forest, away from the haunts of men?  Nay, she must tarry here but a little while.  Then will I come and claim her.  Then will she have dowry worthy her name and state.  Oh that lost treasure, that lost treasure! what happiness will there be in store for very many when that lost treasure is found!”

And then he paused and held out his arms, for light steps were speeding towards him through the dewy grass, and Petronella, with a little sobbing cry, flung herself upon him, to be enfolded in a strong embrace.

Chapter 15:  Petronella.

“Cuthbert, is it—­can it really be thou?”

“Petronella—­sister!  What happiness to see thee once more!”

She clung to him almost sobbing in the excitement of pure happiness.  He could feel that she trembled in his arms, and he enfolded the slight frame ever closer and closer.