“You look like a veritable ghost,” said Kate, still brimming over with pity and indignation.  “What did that miserable man do to you?”

“Why, naught that he has not done a score of times before—­tied me to the pillar and flogged me like a dog.  Only he laid his blows on something more fiercely than is his wont, and doubled the number of them.  Perchance he had some sort of inkling that it was his last chance, and used it accordingly.”

The bare trees did not screen the beams of the moon, and both Philip and Kate could see the expression on Cuthbert’s face.  What they read there caused Kate to ask suddenly and eagerly: 

“What meanest thou by that, Cuthbert?  What plan hast thou in thine head?”

“Why, a mighty simple one—­so simple that I marvel I have not carried it out before.  I could not live worse were I to beg my bread from door to door, and I should at least have my liberty; and if whipped for a vagabond, should scarce be so badly used as my father uses me.  Moreover, I have a pair of strong arms and some book learning; and I trow I need never sink to beggary.  I mind not what I do.  I will dig the fields sooner than be worse treated than a dog.  My mind is made up.  I have left my father’s house never to return.  I am going forth into the world to see what may befall me there, certain that nothing can be worse than what I have left behind.”

“Thou hast run away from thy cruel father?  Marry, that is good hearing!” cried Kate, with sparkling eyes.  “I marvel we had none of us thought of that plan ourselves; it is excellent.”

“It seemed the one thing left—­the only thing possible.  I could not endure such thralldom longer,” answered Cuthbert, speaking wearily, for he was in truth well nigh worn out with the tumult of his own feelings and the savage treatment he had received.  “But I know not if I shall accomplish it even now.  My father may discover my flight, pursue and bring me back.  This very day I asked to leave his house, and he refused to let me go.  If he overtakes me I shall be shut up in strait confinement; I shall be punished sorely for this night’s work.  I must make shift to put as many miles as may be betwixt myself and the Gate House tonight.”

“Nay, thou shalt do no such thing!” answered Kate, quickly and warmly.  “I have a better plan than that.  Thou shalt come home with us.  My good father will gladly give thee shelter and protection.  Thou shalt remain in hiding with us till the hue and cry (if there be any) shall be over past, and till thy wounds be healed and thou hast regained thy strength and spirit; and then thou shalt start forth reasonably equipped to seek thy fortune in the world; and if thou wilt go to merry London, as I would were I a man with mine own fortune to carve out, methinks I can give thee a letter to one there that will secure thee all that thou needest in the present, and may lead to advancement and good luck.”

Kate’s thoughts always worked like magic.  No sooner was an idea formed in her busy brain than she saw the whole story unwinding itself in glowing colours; and to hear her bright chatter as the three pursued their way to the house, one would have thought her cousin’s fortune already made.  A soft red glow had stolen into her cheeks as she had spoken of the missive she could furnish, and Philip gave her a quick glance, a smile crossing his face.