Owing to the torch, Grace saw her first, and uttered a little scream; a loud scream of rapture replied:  the torch went anywhere, and gentle and simple were locked in each other’s arms, Jael sobbing for very joy after terror, and Grace for sympathy, and also because she wanted to cry, on more accounts than one.

Another torch came on, and Jael cried triumphantly, “This way, Squire.  She is here!” and kissed her violently again.

Mr. Raby came up, and took her in his arms, without a word, being broken with emotion:  and, after he had shaken Coventry by both hands, they all turned homeward, and went so fast that Coventry gave in with a groan.

Then Grace told Jael what had befallen him, and just then another torch came in, held by George the blacksmith, who, at sight of the party, uttered a stentorian cheer, and danced upon the snow.

“Behave, now,” said Jael, “and here’s the gentleman sore hurt in the river; Geordie, come and make a chair with me.”

George obeyed and put out his hands, with the fingers upward, Jael did the same, with the fingers downward:  they took hands, and, putting their stalwart arms under Coventry, told him to fling an arm round each of their necks:  he did so, and up he went; he was no more than a feather to this pair, the strongest man and woman in Cairnhope.

As they went along, he told them his adventure in the stream, and, when they heard it, they ejaculated to each other, and condoled with him kindly, and assured him he was alive by a miracle.

They reached Raby, and, in the great hall, the Squire collected his people and gave his orders.  “Stop the bell.  Broach a barrel of ale, and keep open house, so long as malt, and bacon, and cheese last.  Turn neither body nor beast from my door this night, or may God shut His gate in your faces.  Here are two guineas, George, to ring the church-bells, you and your fellows; but sup here first.  Cans of hot water upstairs, for us.  Lay supper, instead of dinner; brew a bowl of punch.  Light all the Yule candles, as if it was Christmas eve.  But first down on your knees, all of ye, whilst I thank God, who has baffled those Gabriel Hell-hounds for once, and saved a good man and a bonny lass from a dog’s death.”

They all went down on their knees, on the marble floor, directly, and the Squire uttered a few words of hearty thanksgiving, and there was scarcely a dry eye.

Then the guests went upstairs, and had their hot baths, and changed their clothes, and came down to supper in the blazing room.

Whilst they were at supper, the old servant who waited on them said something in a low voice to his master.  He replied that he would speak to the man in the hall.

As soon as he was gone, Miss Carden said in French, “Did you hear that?”

“No.”

“Well, I did.  Now, mind your promise.  We shall have to fib.  You had better say nothing.  Let me speak for you; ladies fib so much better than gentlemen.”