Nay, look not at me, Alleyne.

It is no time for dallying.

Win my father's love, and all may follow.

It is when the brave soldier hath done his devoir that he hopes for his reward, Farewell, and may God be with you!" She held out her white, slim hand to him, but as he bent his lips over it she whisked away and was gone, leaving in his outstretched hand the very green veil for which poor Peter Terlake had craved in vain.

Again the hoarse cheering burst out from below, and he heard the clang of the rising portcullis.