ssage　and　　doorstep　had　been　strewn　with　guinea…pieces。　　At　this　old　　Jonathan　looked　at　Mr。　Archer。　　Next　the　visitor　turned　to　　news　of　a　more　thrilling　character：　how　the　down　mail　had　　been　stopped　again　near　Grantham　by　three　men　on　horseback　…　　a　white　and　two　bays；　how　they　had　handkerchiefs　on　their　　faces；　how　Tom　the　guard's　blunderbuss　missed　fire；　but　he　　swore　he　had　winged　one　of　them　with　a　pistol；　and　how　they　　had　got　clean　away　with　seventy　pounds　in　money；　some　　valuable　papers；　and　a　watch　or　two。
  'Brave！　brave！'　cried　Jonathan　in　ecstasy。　　'Seventy　pounds！　　　O；　it's　brave！'
  'Well；　I　don't　see　the　great　bravery；'　observed　the　ostler；　　misapprehending　him。　　'Three　men；　and　you　may　call　that　three　　to　one。　　I'll　call　it　brave　when　some　one　stops　the　mail　　single…handed；　that's　a　risk。'
  'And　why　should　they　hesitate？'　inquired　Mr。　Archer。　　'The　　poor　souls　who　are　fallen　to　such　a　way　of　life；　pray　what　　have　they　to　lose？　　If　they　get　the　money；　well；　but　if　a　　ball　should　put　them　from　their　troubles；　why；　so　better。'
  'Well；　sir；'　said　the　ostler；　'I　believe　you'll　find　they　　won't　agree　with　you。　　They　count　on　a　good　fling；　you　see；　　or　who　would　risk　it？　…　And　here's　my　best　respects　to　you；　　Miss　Nance。'
  'And　I　forgot　the　part　of　cowardice；'　resumed　Mr。　Archer。　　　'All　men　fear。'
  'O；　surely　not！'　cried　Nance。
  'All　men；'　reiterated　Mr。　Archer。
  'Ay；　that's　a　true　word；'　observed　Old　Cumberland；　'and　a　　thief；　anyway；　for　it's　a　coward's　trade。'
  'But　these　fellows；　now；'　said　Jonathan；　with　a　curious；　　appealing　manner　…　'these　fellows　with　their　seventy　pounds！　　　Perhaps；　Mr。　Archer；　they　were　no　true　thieves　after　all；　but　　just　people　who　had　been　robbed　and　tried　to　get　their　own　　again。　　What　was　that　you　said；　about　all　England　and　the　　taxes？　　One　takes；　another　gives；　why；　that's　almost　fair。　　　If　I've　been　rooked　and　robbed；　and　the　coat　taken　off　my　　back；　I　call　it　almost　fair　to　take　another's。'
  'Ask　Old　Cumberland；'　observed　the　ostler；　'you　ask　Old　　Cumberland；　Miss　Nance！'　and　he　bestowed　a　wink　upon　his　　favoured　fair　one。
  'Why　that？'　asked　Jonathan。
  'He　had　his　coat　taken　…　ay；　and　his　shirt　too；'　returned　the　　ostler。
  'Is　that　so？'　cried　Jonathan　eagerly。　　'Was　you　robbed　too？'
  'That　was　I；'　replied　Cumberland；　'with　a　warrant！　　I　was　a　　well…to…do　man　when　I　was　young。'
  'Ay！　　See　that！'　says　Jonathan。　　'And　you　don't　long　for　a　　revenge？'
  'Eh！　　Not　me！'　answered　the　beggar。　　'It's　too　long　ago。　　But　　if　you'll　give　me　another　mug　of　your　good　ale；　my　pretty　　lady；　I　won't　say　no　to　that。'
  'And　shalt　have！　　And　shalt　have！'　cried　Jonathan。　　'Or　　brandy　even；　if　you　like　it　better。'
  And　as　Cumberland　did　like　it　better；　and　the　ostler　chimed　　in；　the　party　pledged　each　other　in　a　dram　of　brandy　before　　separating。
  As　for　Nance；　she　slipped　forth　into　the　ruins；　partly　to　　avoid　the　ostler's　gallantries；　partly　to　lament　over　the　　defects　of　Mr。　Archer。　　Plainly；　he　was　no　hero。　　She　pitied　　him；　she　began　to　feel　a　protecting　interest　mingle　with　and　　almost　supersede　her　admiration；　and　was　at　the　same　time　　disappointed　and　yet　drawn　to　him。　　She　was；　indeed；　　conscious　of　such　unshaken　fortitude　in　her　own　heart；　that　　she　was　almost　tempted　by　an　occasion　to　be　bold　for　two。　　　She　saw　herself；　in　a　brave　attitude；　shielding　her　imperfect　　hero　from　the　world；　and　she　saw；　like　a　piece　of　heaven；　his　　gratitude　for　her　protection。
  THE　GREAT　NORTH　ROAD　CHAPTER　V　…　LIFE　IN　THE　CASTLE
  FROM　that　day　forth　the　life　of　these　three　persons　in　the　　ruin　ran　very　smoothly。　　Mr。　Archer　now　sat　by　the　fire　with　　a　book；　and　now　passed　whole　days　abroad；　returning　late；　　dead　weary。　　His　manner　was　a　mask；　but　it　was　half　　transparent；　through　the　even　tenor　of　his　gravity　and　　courtesy　profound　revolutions　of　feeling　were　betrayed；　　seasons　of　numb　despair；　of　restlessness；　of　aching　temper。　　　For　days　he　would　say　nothing　beyond　his　usual　courtesies　and　　solemn　compliments；　and　then；　all　of　a　sudden；　some　fine　　evening　beside　the　kitchen　fire；　he　would　fall　into　a　vein　of　　elegant　gossip；　tell　of　strange　and　interesting　events；　the　　secrets　of　families；　brave　deeds　of　war；　the　miraculous　　discovery　of　crime；　the　visitations　of　the　dead。　　Nance　and　　her　uncle　would　sit　till　the　small　hours　with　eyes　wide　open：　　Jonathan　applauding　the　unexpected　incidents　with　many　a　slap　　of　his　big　hand；　Nance；　perhaps；　more　pleased　with　the　　narrator's　eloquence　and　wise　reflections；　and　then；　again；　　days　would　follow　of　abstraction；　of　listless　humming；　of　　frequent　apologies　and　long　hours　of　silence。　　Once　only；　and　　then　after　a　week　of　unrelieved　melancholy；　he　went　over　to　　the　'Green　Dragon；'　spent　the　afternoon　with　the　landlord　and　　a　bowl　of　punch；　and　returned　as　on　the　first　night；　devious　　in　step　but　courteous　and　unperturbed　of　speech。
  If　he　seemed　more　natural　and　more　at　his　ease　it　was　when　he　　found　Nance　alone；　and；　laying　by　some　of　his　reserve；　talked　　before　her　rather　than　to　her　of　his　destiny；　character　and　　hopes。　　To　Nance　these　interviews　were　but　a　doubtful　　privilege。　　At　times　he　would　seem　to　take　a　pleasure　in　her　　presence；　to　consult　her　gravely；　to　hear　and　to　discuss　her　　counsels；　at　times　even；　but　these　were　rare　and　brief；　he　　would　talk　of　herself；　praise　the　qualities　that　she　　possessed；　touch　indulgently　on　her　defects；　and　lend　her　　books　to　read　and　even　examine　her　upon　her　reading；　but　far　　more　often　he　would　fall　into　a　half　unconsciousness；　put　her　　a　question　and　then　answer　it　himself；　drop　into　the　veiled　　tone　of　voice　of　one　soliloquising；　and　leave　her　at　last　as　　though　he　had　forgotten　her　existence。　　It　was　odd；　too；　that　　in　all　this　random　converse；　not　a　fact　of　his　past　life；　and　　scarce　a　name；　should　ever　cross　his　lips。　　A　profound　　reserve　kept　watch　upon　his　most　unguarded　moments。　　He　spoke　　continually　of　himself；　indeed；　but　still　in　enigmas；　a　　veiled　prophet　of　egoism。
  The　base　of　Nance's　feelings　for　Mr。　Archer　was　admiration　as　　for　a　superior　being；　and　with　this；　his　treatment；　　consciously　or　not；　accorded　happily。　　When　he　forgot　her；　　she　took　the　blame　upon　herself。　　His　formal　politeness　was　　so　exquisite　that　this　essential　brutality　stood　excused。　　　His　compliments；　besides；　were　always　grave　and　rational；　he　　would　offer　reason　for　his　praise；　convict　her　of　merit；　and　　thus　disarm　suspicion。　　Nay；　and　the　very　hours　when　he　　forgot　and　remembered　her　alternately　could　by　the　ardent　　fallacies　of　youth　be　read　in　the　light　of　an　attention。　　She　　might　be　far　from　his　confidence；　but　still　she　was　nearer　it　　than　any　one。　　He　might　ignore　her　presence；　but　yet　he　　sought　it。
  Moreover；　she；　upon　her　side；　was　conscious　of　one　point　of　　superiority。　　Beside　this　rather　dismal；　rather　effeminate　　man；　who　recoiled　from　a　worm；　who　grew　giddy　on　the　castle　　wall；　who　bore　so　helplessly　the　weight　of　his　misfortunes；　　she　felt　herself　a　head　and　shoulders　taller　in　cheerful　and　　sterling　courage。　　She　could　walk　head　in　air　along　the　most　　precarious　rafter；　her　hand　feared　neither　the　grossness　nor　　the　harshness　of　life's　web；　but　was　thrust　cheerfully；　if　　need　were；　into　the　briar　bush；　and　could　take　hold　of　any　　crawling　horror。　　Ruin　was　mining　the　walls　of　her　cottage；　　as　already　it　had　mined　and　subverted　Mr。　Archer's　palace。　　　Well；　she　faced　it　with　a　bright　countenance　and　a　busy　hand。　　　She　had　got　some　washing；　some　rough　seamstress　work　from　the　　'Green　Dragon；'　and　from　another　neighbour　ten　miles　away　　across　the　moor。　　At　this　she　cheerfully　laboured；　and　from　　that　height　she　could　afford　to　pity　the　useless　talents　and　　poor　attitude　of　Mr。　Archer。　　It　did　not　change　her　　admiration；　but　it　made　it　bearable。　　He　was　above　her　in　all　　ways；　but　she　was　above　him　in　one。　　She　kept　it　to　herself；　　and　hugged　it。　　When；　like　all　young　creatures；　she　made　long　　stories　to　justify；　to　nourish；　and　to　forecast　the　course　of　　her　affection；　it　was　this　private　superiority　that　made　all　　rosy；　that　cut　the　knot；　and　that；　at　last；　in　some　great　　situation；　fetched　to　her　knees　the　dazzling　but　imperfect　　hero。　　With　this　pretty　exercise　she　beguiled　the　hours　of　　labour；　and　consoled　herself　for　Mr。　Archer's　bearing。
  Pity　was　her　weapon　and　her　weakness。　　To　accept　the　loved　　one's　faults；　although　it　has　an　air　of　freedom；　is　to　kiss　　the　chain；　and　this　pity　it　was　which；　lying　nearer　to　her　　heart；　lent　the　one　element　of　true　emotion　to　a　fanciful　and　　merely　brain…sick　love。
  Thus　it　fell　out　one　day　that　she　had　gone　to　the　'Green　　Dragon'　and　brought　back　thence　a　letter　to　Mr。　Archer。　　He；　　upon　seeing　it；　winced　like　a　man　under　the　knife：　pain；　　shame；　sorrow；　and　the　most　trenchant　edge　of　mortification　　cut　into　his　heart　and　wrung　the　steady　composure　of　his　　face。
  'Dear　heart！　have　you　bad　news？'　she　cried。
  But　he　only　replied　by　a　gesture　and　fled　to　his　room；　and　　when；　later　on；　she　ventured　to　refer　to　it；　he　stopped　her　　on　the　threshold；　as　if　with　words　prepared　beforehand。　　　'There　are　some　pains；'　said　he；　'too　acute　for　consolation；　　or　I　would　bring　them　to　my　kind　consoler。　　Let　the　memory　of　　that　letter；　if　you　ple