“I cannot lay claim to success as yet,” answered Cuthbert, smiling.  “I have not said the treasure is mine, only that I trow I know where soon I may lay hands upon it.  Sweet Kate, when all that gold is brought back to the halls of Trevlyn Chase whence it was taken, sure thy dowry will be fair enough to win Lord Andover’s smiles.  Sure thou wilt not then be afraid to own—­”

But Kate laid her soft hand upon his lips and glanced round with startled eyes.  Courageous as she was to carry out a bold resolution, she was not free from nervous timidity, too.

“Speak not the words, good Cuthbert, neither here nor yet within the walls of the Chase.  I have not dared to breathe to them at home the thing I have done.  Heaven pardon me if it were a sin; but I may not wish it undone.  It is so sweet to feel myself his; and if it be as thou sayest, we may not have long to wait ere he may claim me before the world.  But if thou findest the treasure thyself, will it not be all thine?”

“I trow not, and I trust thou hast no such evil thoughts of me, fair cousin, as to think that I would keep all, when but a portion was my father’s share, and that will scarce be mine whilst he lives.  I do but hope to restore it to those to whom it rightfully belongs.  I trow there will be enough to make all glad and happy, and I doubt not that something of good hap may come to me thereby.  But to lay claim to all—­why, that would be a scurvy thought, unworthy a man of honour.”

Kate’s bright face was full of eager sympathy and approval.

“I like thee, Cuthbert,” she cried; “I like thy honest thoughts and words.  Thou art in sooth a very proper youth.  Thou art worthy of thy Wyvern blood, which I hold to be purer than that of Trevlyn, which has times and again been stained by acts of malice, greed, and violence.  But see, the sun is rising in the sky!  We must back to the house for the morning meal.  And, Cuthbert, good Cuthbert, thou wilt keep my secret?  Thou wilt not tell of our meeting on May Day in the forest?”

“Never a word an thou biddest me not,” answered Cuthbert, with a smile.  “So that is to be a secret, Lady Culverhouse?”

She recoiled with a little start, her eyes dancing, her cheeks aglow.

“O Cuthbert, I had not thought that my name was changed.  Lady Culverhouse!  What a pleasant sound it has!  But oh, not a word at home!  I dare not tell them aught till Culverhouse be by my side.  I misdoubt me that I did right to let him persuade me thus; and yet I could not say him nay, and I longed to hear the words spoken that should bind us to each other.  But I dare not tell my father!  I trow both he and my mother would chide full sternly.  In truth, I fear me it were scarce a maidenly act.  But, O Cuthbert, love is so strong—­so hard a task master.  Where he drives, it seems that one needs must go;” and she looked up at him with such arch appeal that he felt those glances would go far to soften the sternest parental heart.