Accordingly, on the subsequent morning, Bridgenorth went to Martindale Castle, and gave Lady Peveril the welcome assurances of her husband’s safety.

“May Almighty God be praised!” said the Lady Peveril.  The door of the apartment opened as she spoke, and two lovely children entered.  The eldest, Julian Peveril, a fine boy betwixt four and five years old, led in his hand a little girl of eighteen months, who rolled and tottered along.

Bridgenorth cast a hasty glance upon his daughter, and then caught her in his arms and pressed her to his heart.  The child, though at first alarmed at the vehemence of his caresses, presently smiled in reply to them.

“Julian must lose his playfellow now, I suppose?” said Lady Peveril.  “But the hall is not distant, and I will see my little charge often.”

“God forbid my girl should ever come to Moultrassie,” said Major Bridgenorth hastily; “it has been the grave of her race.  The air of the low grounds suited them not.  I will seek for her some other place of abode.”

“Major Bridgenorth,” answered the lady, “if she goes not to her father’s house, she shall not quit mine.  I will keep the little lady as a pledge of her safety and my own skill; and since you are afraid of the damp of the low grounds, I hope you will come here frequently to visit her.”

This was a proposal which went to the heart of Major Bridgenorth.  He expressed his grateful duty to Lady Peveril, and having solemnly blessed his little girl, took his departure for Moultrassie Hall.

II.—­Separation

The friendly relations between the inhabitants of Martindale and Moultrassie came to an end with the common rejoicing over the restoration of Charles II.

The Countess of Derby, queen in the Isle of Man, whose husband had perished for the crown, took refuge at the castle, fleeing from a warrant for her arrest, and told her story to Lady Peveril in the presence of Major Bridgenorth.

The countess had kept the royal standard flying in Man until her vassal, William Christian, turned against her.  Then for seven years she had endured strict captivity, until the tide turned, and she was once more in possession of the sovereignty of the island.  “I was no sooner placed in possession of my rightful power,” said the countess, “than I ordered the dempster to hold a high court of justice upon the traitor Christian, according to all the formalities of the isle.  He was fully convicted of his crime, and without delay was shot to death by a file of musketeers.”

At hearing this, Bridgenorth clasped his hands together and groaned bitterly.  “O Christian—­worthy, well worthy of the name thou didst bear!  My friend, my brother—­the brother of my blessed wife Alice, art thou, then, cruelly murdered!”

Then, drawing himself up with resolution, he demanded the arrest of the countess.