whichever likes him best. We could do with a few more bold lads,
since death has been something busy of late; and he seems to have
the grit in him one looks for in those who join with us. Moreover,
he has the dark eyes, and would soon have the swarth skin, that
distinguish our merry men all.

"How now, mother! Thou hast eyes for none but the lad! Why lookst
thou at him so?"

Cuthbert, too, gazed wonderingly at the handsome old gipsy, who
continued to keep her eyes fixed upon him, as if by a species of
fascination. He could no more withdraw his gaze than can the bird
whom the snake is luring to destruction.

"Boy, what is thy name?" she asked, in a quick, harsh whisper.

"Cuthbert Trevlyn," he answered, without hesitation, and at the
name a wild laugh rang out through the vaulted room, illumined by
the glow of a huge fire of logs, whilst all present started and
looked at one another.

"I knew it--I knew it!" cried the old woman, with a wild gesture of
her withered arms, which were bare to the elbow, as though she had
been engaged in culinary tasks. "I knew it--I knew it! I knew it
the moment the light fell upon his face. Trevlyn--Trevlyn! one of
that accursed brood! Heaven be praised, the hour of vengeance has
come! We will do unto one of them even as they did unto us;" and
she waved her arms again in the air, and glanced towards the
glowing fire on the hearth with a look in her wild eyes that for a
moment caused Cuthbert's heart to stand still. For he remembered