“I love not such disputings neither,” said Jacob, with unwonted energy.  “Good Kezzie, let us twain slip below to help Cherry over her task.”

Keziah gave a quick glance at the face of her stern aunt, who loved not this sort of slipping away during times of ceremony; but she had her back to them and to the door, and was engrossed in the talk as well as in the stocking fabric upon her needles.  Jemima and Walter were still talking unrebuked in a low key.  Perchance this flitting could be accomplished without drawing down either notice or remark.  To please Jacob, Keziah would have done much, even to running the risk of a scolding from her aunt.  She had none of saucy Cherry’s scorn of the big boorish fellow with the red face and hairy hands.  She looked below the surface, and knew that a kindly heart beat beneath the ungainly habit; and being but plain herself, Keziah would have taken shame to herself for thinking scorn of another for a like defect.

Putting her finger on her lip in token of caution, she effected a quiet retreat, and the next moment the two cousins stood flushed but elated in the eating parlour below.  But though it was now past five o’clock, there was no sign of Cherry or her rushes, and Keziah looked both surprised and uneasy.

“Belike she came in with dirty clogs and skirt, and has gone up to her bed chamber to change them, for fear of Aunt Susan telling her she was cluttering up the parlour,” said the sister, anxiously.  “I will run and see.  Sure she can never have lingered so late beside the river!  The sun has been long down, and the fog is rising.”

Keziah tripped upstairs lightly enough, but speedily came down with a grave face.

“She is not there,” was her answer to Jacob’s glance of inquiry.  “What must we do?  If we make a coil about it, and she comes in, having only gossiped awhile with the neighbours along the bridge, aunt will surely chide her sharply, and send her to bed supperless.  But if she should have met some mischance—­” and Keziah broke off, looking frightened enough, for it was no light matter to meet mischance alone and unprotected in the dark.

“I will go forth to seek her,” cried Jacob, with unwonted animation.  “It boots not for a man to be abroad after dark, but for a maid it is an ill tiding indeed.  Which way went she? to the osier beds!  Sure I must find her ere long.  Were it not well for me to go, good Kezzie?”

“I would that some would go, but I trow thou hadst better not adventure thyself alone.  Belike Master Walter would be thy companion.  If there be peril abroad, it is better there should be twain than one.  And you will want lanterns and stout staffs, too.”

“Run thou and light the lanterns, good coz, and I will to Walter and ask his company.  It grows thicker and darker every moment.  If Cherry be not within, it behoves us to make search for her.”