“Is Mistress Dowsabel’s hot posset ready, Dyson? she has asked for it more than once.”

Both women started and turned round, and Cherry uttered a little involuntary cry, whilst the name “Cuthbert” sprang to her lips so fast that she was not sure that she had not uttered it aloud.  Her eyes were fixed upon the face of the dark-eyed girl who had brought the message.

“I will take it at once,” said Dyson, hastily lifting it from the fire.  “I crave my lady’s pardon for being late with it; but my niece from London has but just arrived, and I was hindered for the moment.

“Cherry, wait here till I return, and then I will speak more with thee.”

Dyson hurried away with the posset, and the two girls stood gazing at each other, a light of welcome and amaze in both their eyes.

“Cherry! did she call thee Cherry? and from London, too?  And Kate bath ofttimes said that—­Oh, why waste words?” cried the girl, breaking off quickly.  “Tell me, art thou Martin Holt’s daughter? art thou my brother Cuthbert’s Cherry?”

“Thy brother? then thou art Petronella!” cried Cherry, in a maze of bewilderment; and even as she spoke the name she felt Petronella’s arms about her, and they were laughing and kissing, questioning and exclaiming, all in the most incoherent fashion, yet contriving to make each other understand some fragments of their respective stories, till at last Petronella drew herself away and laid her hand on Cherry’s arm, saying as she did so: 

“But remember that here I am Ellen Wyvern, and not even good Dyson knows more than that.  Be on thy guard, good coz, and only speak familiarly to me in secret.  O Cherry, how I have longed to see thee—­Cuthbert’s Cherry, of whom I have heard so much!  And how comest thou hither?  Has he sent thee?”

“He?  I have not seen him these six months past.  Petronella, sweet cousin, give me good news of him.”

“Why, so I can—­the very best.  He has found the treasure.  It is safely lodged here.  And he has gone forth into the forest again, first to tell the tale to the gipsy queen, who has been his friend through all, and then to return to London to thy father’s house to seek his Cherry once again, and claim her hand before all the world.”

Chapter 21:  The Gipsy’s Warning.

“Thy task is done, and it is well done.  But now get thee from the forest with all speed, for there is peril to thee here.”

So said Joanna, standing before Cuthbert in the pixies’ dell, her hand upon the low stone wall, her tall figure drawn up to its full height.  She had been looking thoughtfully down into the sparkling water, which was now filling the well as of old, whilst Cuthbert told his tale with graphic power.  An expression of calm triumph was on her face as she heard how the long-lost hoard was lying safely stored within the house of the Wyverns—­a house sacred to the gipsies and safe from any raids of robbers, such was the esteem in which that name was held.  She looked like one whose task is done, who feels a heavy load lifted from the mind; but the glance fixed upon Cuthbert’s eager face was also one of gravity and meaning.