Lachlan laughed.
"Behold the proof of my statement," he cried. "Your ears have even caught gossip about my humble self. Now this girl of the garden—this Lady Sanguilla, as I have named her. Who is she? Whence came she? Who is this Gilbert that she is seeking? What is she doing in old Stanwicke's garden where a petticoat was never seen before?"
"She is Lord Stanwicke's daughter," said Almayne quietly.
"His daughter! I did not know that he had a daughter."
"That is not strange," the hunter muttered, and buried his face in his cup.
"Your tongue's lazy, Almayne," said Lachlan impatiently. "I'll liven it if it takes a hogshead of Marshall's ale!" He gave an order to the black boy in attendance. "Now what of this mysterious daughter of old Stanwicke, who calls himself a lord? Has he kept her hidden all these years in some dungeon of Stanwicke Hall?"
"He has kept her in England," Almayne answered slowly, "with her mother's kinsfolk there. It is her first taste of this raw New World. She arrived on the ship Queen Bess in custody of Mistress Wilkinson just two days after you rode to Willtown. On the same ship came Mr. Richard Barradell, of Hampshire and London, whom you miscall a popinjay. He is not the lady's lover and he returns to England on the Sea Swallow to-morrow, so you can dismiss him from
